Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Get Ya Shit Together , by - T.I.. Release date: 28.11.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Get Ya Shit Together |
| As you see the O.G.s from Grand Hustle done laid it down again |
| T.I.P. |
| shawty |
| Hey yo, this for all my homegirls like to see a baller do his thing |
| Get ya shit together come on |
| All the eight, nines, and dimes |
| I’d like to welcome y’all to the best time of ya life |
| Ya understand that |
| All the stones is real |
| And it’s all chrome on the wheels, ya know |
| Anything less is uncivilized |
| Pull up to the club, lift both doors up |
| Hopped out clean and yo ho chose us |
| Walked in the door, make the show hold up |
| Cause my neck and my bracelet is so froze up |
| The kind of stones bitches wanna see close up |
| So we don’t approach them, they come and approach us |
| Roll the dro up then go post up |
| Look down with the west finna go sho' nuff |
| In the V.I.P. |
| and all eyes on us |
| Hoes chill, poppin' pills blowin' dro no dust |
| What cha say, got a man so what |
| I don’t know him baby and he don’t know her |
| I got a new Phantom and my own chauffeur |
| Ya think ya finna be thinkin' 'bout him, no sir |
| Probably prefer to tell ya man good night |
| Unless you don’t wanna know what the good life look like |
| If you ain’t gettin' money good night |
| I know what a broke nigga look like |
| When ya ridin' in ya wheels get ya shit together |
| Boy them diamonds ain’t real, get ya shit together |
| Now we can ball seven days, six nights |
| If tht head and that pussy hit right |
| Hey, match ya panties with ya bras get ya shit together |
| Go get ya hair and nails done get ya shit together |
| Hey, I’m off the scene with Louis the thirteenth |
| Chains swings to my jeans, and my T-shirt clean |
| In case you been researching, I’m the King |
| With a style as mean as the Earth seem |
| Chest on ice, and my wrist on gleam |
| 30 karats in the ring, money ain’t no thing |
| You think I’m playin' but I ain’t joking |
| The dro king, if it ain’t purple, I ain’t smoking |
| Rubberband bank rolls, fifty thousand dollar cheddar knots |
| Try to shine, is you out your mind, boy you better not |
| I walk around with more money than you ever got |
| Shrewd attitude like I never had to sell a rock |
| Shawty I can get you in whatever spot |
| Backstage, front row, what I got to front for |
| I’m getting bored, don’t even know what I stunt for |
| Got a lot of rides, what it hurt to cop one more |
| To all my hot girls, if you wanna come chill |
| Or roll on chrome wheels, let me tell you what it is |
| We fixin' throw a little party at the crib |
| Where the floors tricked out and the rooms like ill |
| The basement’s cool, but the pools unreal |
| Where that millionaire lives, shit remains concealled |
| So pop a pill, put on your blindfold |
| I’m hitting the dance floor, and grab eighty-nine more |
| Let em' know we on the way where they been trying to go |
| I knew I had em' when they asked me «What kind of diamonds are those» |
| Headed to the spot pouring double shots of XO |
| Play the «Love Below» ane watch’em undress slow |
| Flicks on the flat screen, make em' want to «Get Low» |
| And spit shine this dick of mine until it gets swole |
| When they kick it with the king, they don’t wanna let go |
| So whatcha gonna tell a nigga, when he tell ya «Let's Go» |