Released: November 30, 2004
Songwriter: T.I.
Producer: Khao
[Verse 1]
Remember late nights earn stripes serving straight white
Talk shit slapbox clear into the day light
Might fuss may fight but stay tight
Keep what the J need 'fore the lighter hit the base pipe
If the trap was the ocean or the sea
You could consider me and them the killa whales and great whites
Before a nigga tried to click it make them think twice
Cause they knew Cap would kill a nigga 'fore you blink twice
They right. I'm reciting my life
Nigga I was there no matter what: through sirens, on a silent night
Cold Sundays, slow Mondays, hot Friday nights
Tuesday, Thursdays, serving whether or not they ride tonight
On peaceful days, hostile evenings, even violent nights
Chip on my shoulder, hold a grudge -- cause you can die tonight
I swear you niggas have no idea what my life was like
Before the bright lights and a half a mil just to grab the mic
[Hook]
Is it cause I came from the bottom to the top
Why you mad at me?
Maybe cause I Spent a hundred on a drop
Why you mad at me?
Is it cause I kept it pimping and stayed down
Why you mad at me?
Or is it cause I am the A-Town
Why you mad at me?
Is cause you a lame and I'm a "G"
Why you mad at me?
Is it cause I got love in the streets
Why you mad at me?
Is cause you know your time running out
Why you mad at me?
Is it cause you know I'm King of the South
[Verse 2]
Niggas mad cause I got it like this
Gold on my wrist hoes on my dick, my dick
But I could give a fuck about this industry
I'm a be the same Tip til the end of me
That's something you know automatically if you a friend of me
You question that or think other wise now you've offended me
I came in this game not looking for a friend or enemy
Found them both now that niggas in to me
Got little rap niggas lighting into me
Major labels and police want to censor me
Feds on my ass cause I'm in the streets
Think I still slang, listen to lame niggas who lie to snitch on me
It ain't my fault that you can't picture me
Riding in a Phantom. Man I swear I never fathomed
All the fame that a nigga can gain from Atlanta
Now I'm just trying to maintain for Atlanta
Before niggas was saying Atlanta
I was Grove Park, Doug High -- I stayed in Atlanta
Now true enough I sold yay in Atlanta
But what is that compared to contributions I made to Atlanta?
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Ay pick a reason any reason all excuses'll do
But man you lucky I ain't bucking like I used to do fools
While you was throwing one's and two's
I was lifting up tools and then
Shoot at his shoes just to see if he move
Or either bust at his head to check if he dead man
Don't talk around him cause I heard he the fed's man
They offer him time and they knowing he scared and tell him
"Give me they names or you doing the stretch man
Or wear a wire go record what he said."
And then you can tell his lawyer that his clients a dead man
A rat I'm smelling. Blow? I ain't selling
Where you got that impression? Ain't no telling
Yes I'm a felon, why was that in question?
What about all these records I'm selling?
I'm Bankhead born and Bankhead bred
And when a nigga die I'm gone be Bankhead dead
Remember late nights earn stripes serving straight white
Talk shit slapbox clear into the day light
Might fuss may fight but stay tight
Keep what the J need 'fore the lighter hit the base pipe
If the trap was the ocean or the sea
You could consider me and them the killa whales and great whites
Before a nigga tried to click it make them think twice
Cause they knew Cap would kill a nigga 'fore you blink twice
They right. I'm reciting my life
Nigga I was there no matter what: through sirens, on a silent night
Cold Sundays, slow Mondays, hot Friday nights
Tuesday, Thursdays, serving whether or not they ride tonight
On peaceful days, hostile evenings, even violent nights
Chip on my shoulder, hold a grudge -- cause you can die tonight
I swear you niggas have no idea what my life was like
Before the bright lights and a half a mil just to grab the mic
[Hook]
Is it cause I came from the bottom to the top
Why you mad at me?
Maybe cause I Spent a hundred on a drop
Why you mad at me?
Is it cause I kept it pimping and stayed down
Why you mad at me?
Or is it cause I am the A-Town
Why you mad at me?
Is cause you a lame and I'm a "G"
Why you mad at me?
Is it cause I got love in the streets
Why you mad at me?
Is cause you know your time running out
Why you mad at me?
Is it cause you know I'm King of the South
[Verse 2]
Niggas mad cause I got it like this
Gold on my wrist hoes on my dick, my dick
But I could give a fuck about this industry
I'm a be the same Tip til the end of me
That's something you know automatically if you a friend of me
You question that or think other wise now you've offended me
I came in this game not looking for a friend or enemy
Found them both now that niggas in to me
Got little rap niggas lighting into me
Major labels and police want to censor me
Feds on my ass cause I'm in the streets
Think I still slang, listen to lame niggas who lie to snitch on me
It ain't my fault that you can't picture me
Riding in a Phantom. Man I swear I never fathomed
All the fame that a nigga can gain from Atlanta
Now I'm just trying to maintain for Atlanta
Before niggas was saying Atlanta
I was Grove Park, Doug High -- I stayed in Atlanta
Now true enough I sold yay in Atlanta
But what is that compared to contributions I made to Atlanta?
[Hook]
[Verse 3]
Ay pick a reason any reason all excuses'll do
But man you lucky I ain't bucking like I used to do fools
While you was throwing one's and two's
I was lifting up tools and then
Shoot at his shoes just to see if he move
Or either bust at his head to check if he dead man
Don't talk around him cause I heard he the fed's man
They offer him time and they knowing he scared and tell him
"Give me they names or you doing the stretch man
Or wear a wire go record what he said."
And then you can tell his lawyer that his clients a dead man
A rat I'm smelling. Blow? I ain't selling
Where you got that impression? Ain't no telling
Yes I'm a felon, why was that in question?
What about all these records I'm selling?
I'm Bankhead born and Bankhead bred
And when a nigga die I'm gone be Bankhead dead
more tracks from the album
From the album
- Urban Legend (2004)
T.I. popular songs
- About The Money
- Memories Back Then
- No Mediocre
- That’s All She Wrote
- Live Your Life
- Sorry
- Dead and Gone
- Whatever You Like
- Go Get It
- Ball
- What You Know
- Wit Me
- Guns and Roses
- Rubber Band Man
- No Matter What
- About the Money (Remix)
- Peanut Butter Jelly
- Private Show
- Bring Em Out
- Poppin Bottles
- Why You Wanna
- Trap Back Jumping
- Jefe
- Welcome to the World