T.I., B.o.B and DJ Ideal - We Don't Get Down Like Y'all

We don't get down like y'all
Na, na, na-na, na, na-na, na-na
Na, na, na, na-na, na, na, na
Na, na, na-na, na, na-na, na-na
We don't get down like y'all (nope)
Sucka nigga, we don't get down like y'all (nope)

Hey, it's been a lot of back and forth over this and that
So I don't pick the bobo no more, I just get it fact
Listen, pimpin', let me tell you what the business is
Y'all know some so I'ma tell you what the difference is
See, we're old school, you're just old news
We used to move blow, and you just blow dude
See we the talk of the town, me and my whole crew
You run around town gossip, like the hoes do
See you name-drop when nobody knows you
We get the lames out our sector, like we 'posed to
My crew, we cop the Bentley, Brooklyn and the Rolls too
You give her roses, I'm the one she bring the rose to
So you, say you're shining well I guess I'm shining more
So high up, I'm soaring, thirty I'm like a dinosaur
Carnivore, meat eater year, G's they respect
Me to you like a comparing a vet to a cadet, nigga

We don't get down like y'all (nope)
I ball
I do, you talk
I'm real, you flaw
Pussy nigga, we don't get down like y'all
Sucka nigga, we don't get down like y'all

Don't call it a comeback
Again ride, being from the fed pen
Pull up on them suckers, pop the trunk and tell 'em get in
Thought I lost a step, well guess again
Back to balling, getting bread, bringing checks in
Yeah, like we did on my last case
I show you how to make a blessing out of bad breaks
Hey, let me set you niggas ass straight
Hoe want there clothes back, loosen up fagbay
Them hot pants bad for your prostate
Lime green high, make a drag queen, hot date
At stores asking for the same size the bitches buy
They say is hip, but where I'm from we call it sissy-fied

We don't get down like y'all
I ball
I do, you talk
I'm real, you flaw
Pussy nigga, we don't get down like y'all
Sucka nigga, we don't get down like y'all

Ayy, before us there was none, after us no more to ever be
This is the greatest show on Earth you'll ever see
I still do it for my niggas in the streets, getting to it
Blowing money like my nigga, Big Meech used to do it
Say we blowing money fast, big old money bag
Three to four hundred cash just to make them suckers mad
Back in the saddle the winner of every battle
Been the best since I was rapping in the rattle, world travel
As you comment on the rumors of what have you beware, dude
Prayer can't prepare you, how dare you
Disrespect my presence peasants? I will tear you
A new one, I'll poop on your egos then move on
Rolls Royce back seat, no grey poupon
A true don, three piece Paul Smith suit on
Peon, see it ain't no neon in my nuance
Hear the truth on every song I spew on (blaow)

We don't get down like y'all
I ball
I do, you talk
I'm real, you flaw
Pussy nigga, we don't get down like y'all
Sucka nigga, we don't get down like y'all

Na, na, na-na, na, na-na, na-na
Na, na, na, na-na, na, na, na
Na, na, na-na, na, na-na, na-na
We don't get down like y'all
Sucka nigga, we don't get down like y'all
Pussy nigga (hahaha)

Written by:
Clifford Harris, Kevin Cossom, Jermaine Jackson, Andrew Harr

Publisher:
Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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