Lyrics What I Gotta Say - 9th Wonder, Buckshot

What I Gotta Say

Wait a minute, just you listen
To what I’ve got so say, yeah
Say yeah, say yeah, say yeah
I started out wearin hoodies and the knapsack
Now I sell them, so you know I get a cash back
All leather like a brand new hatchback
Silver bullet BMW, they’re yelling past that
How did you pass that
Test when the rest labels fell faster than a day at Nasdaq
Go and ask that
Man, he’s standing right there, hundred gram in his hand telling the fans, yeah
He’s courteous, never nervous
Superbious, hood nigga but he ain’t suburbians
I got it all from the killas from the nerdiest
Clean mouth niggas to the south where the dirty is
All connect to global
So when I do shows overseas with my peeps I can show you
Plus we set up whatever we call
Me and 9th setting every mall
You’re wasting time, dawg
When I first came in the game, they said I couldn’t do it
So I just grand pu’d it, meaning I brand-newed it
Y’all pursued it, you’re still pursuing it
I did it, yup, and still doing it
Still (?) it, yeah, gets better
Like a Cashmere sweater, or it’s last year’s cheddar
Duckdown’s ahead of
Anybody trying to rap the hip-hop ‘cause it was a wrap when I met her
You said hi, she said bye
You said why, she said, «I met Beady-Eyed»
He’s that guy, crownded, but his head in the sky
Anytime he looks around it, then it’s lead in your eye
Think it’s a joke?
Feel them fo-fo's arrive
This ain’t a game, nah, this ain’t poker’s eyes
Oversize, you ain’t even game-affiliated
Shit on Worldstar, man, you really made it
Buckshot’s created, flows like the hurricane seas
And 9th and Buckshot’s smile for no reason
You wasting time, dawg
I shut down the streets, barricade blocks like
What up fella?
When you wanna rock?
And roll, in my pocket AKA a nine
Old school term, mint like condition, I am not (Get it?)
I am similar to brown blocks
Angelina Jolie shots for shooting around blocks
If you see a dot on your head that don’t mean you’re Hindu
That mean you’re withdrew
First thing on my mind is get mine
Break rules with the hammer on my waistline, waste time
Screw you?
Nah, I bring drills
So I forklift money everyday when I eat a mill
Remember them skills up in Brownsville
That you got nice with, got broke, and broke nice with
I remember that like my first arrest
9th, bring in the chorus, give the verse a rest
Don’t play with me, I’m far from a game
I got this label shit locked, bars in a chain
You might see me, but I’m far from your lane
I’m the bullet with the shot, y’all just the stains