I Can't Get Wid Dat

[Intro]

Yeahhhh... check it, check it, check it out

Uh, uh, uh...

Uhn, uhn, uhn...

Gotta keep it phat...

[Hook]

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this (Uh)

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

[Verse 1]

Strict to the track, my lyrics is phat, I rip it the fuck down

More than a fluke, I'm regularly wreckin' this shit, so what now?

When so many brothers is bitin' it's hard to detect who I be

Well check out the J, check out the A, check out the Y – Z

Original rap, I'm makin it slap, I'm hemmin' it up like that

Stringin' and strikin' and swingin' it fat, bring it back

I be that nigga, with a gat, boom-clack

Don't ever sweat it when I go, I soon bag

Better than ever, never better; you better? Whatever

I suggest an Ex-Lax, and that'll get your shit together

I give you a snotty nose from body blows

Nobody's safe at a party, even Gotti goes adios

I got-got-got flav-flav-flav-flavor, so save your's

One verse and it's a hearse, I played and I slayed yours

Get it, got it, ready to flip? I doubt it

No need to prolong, Jigga the man, gone! I'm out

[Hook]

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

[Verse 2]

The next nigga never, get no rest, you're livin' with stress

'Cause just around the corner, be's the best nigga

You're fearin' my clout, if weed got you runnin' your mouth...

You better blow that shit out

The Jigga's back, you niggas are flat

I'll amaze, the way that Jay rap

"Now how in the hell did he say that?"

You diggin' me, the–epitome of rippin' it raw

You kiddin' me? No nigga that rap gettin' bigger than me

Although ya niggas are wettin' my style, I'm still thristy

And we all gotta fall off, but you first, G

I'll be the last, it'd be a cold day in hell

Before you see me, Sauce, and Jaz chillin' with your wack ass

We break shit, in harmony like Take 6

While ya niggas double-pumped off the fake shit

A Roc-A-Fella, never sell-out

Brothers who don't have the heart, you better tape ya mouth, nigga

[Hook]

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

[Verse 3]

Listen – I don't kick it, I punt it

I'm so wicked, ya want it?

My tongue is taxed from lickin' my fingers and countin' up hundreds

So I bought a money machine and it goes

A tat-tit-trrrrrrr-at-tit-trrrrrt-at-git-git-Git-Dough

How many styles I gotta kick to prove I'm def?

I can even–kick my––rip that–shit–and catch a breath

I'm nicer than a bitch, ask this nigga Dash

Nah, he don't count, 'cause I'm makin' his ass rich

This nigga's nothin but the truth

Many view Jay-Z as a threat to they loot – fuck 'em

My shit is tight, can't slip, gotta grip

Like a pit in a dog fight, my shit is aight

I ain't checkin' for you 'less you my peoples

And just in case you didn't know, peep the steelo

It goes, one dime for ya mind

And two bone crushers for your spine

'Cause none of ya game is rougher than mine

[Hook]

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

I can't get with that

I gotta keep it thick, never miss, so I hit 'em like this

[Outro]

Ha haaa... Jay-Z and Clark Kent

1994 and forever

Big ups to everybody in Brooklyn

Marcy definitely representin'

Sauce Money in the house – no question

Garçon definitely in the house – no question

Money Flynn and all the Roc-A-Fellas

Bee-High... ha ha... exit