| Wu, Shaolin, yeah, yeah
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| Lets stand up y’all
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| What up, we on the rise
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| 10 304 types
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| Move with The Movement
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| Its like Roy Jones said
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| What’s that son
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| Y’all must of forgot or sutten word
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| Yo INS
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| We love fast cash, trickin' on a few girls
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| Spazzin' like the yellow cab, through the new world
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| I walk slow, slaughter order like new kicks
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| On some Wu shit, two chicks shootin' my flicks
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| Might creep through ya town all wrong
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| Half a bone, twenty inch chrome
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| Illuminatin' off ya dome
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| Like OT status, the one to get at
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| Never sweat that, I’m focused at the X on the map
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| Treasure chest stash, the guest house attached
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| Forty acres and a mule with the sawed off gat
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| Fuck the media hype, I’m into Stereotype
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| Name ya price, then let me get my hand on the dice
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| All my life, nine out of ten involved in the heist
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| Only for ayallytes with the target sliced
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| Now the parasite blined by your neon light
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| Tryna eat right so maybe I can sleep nights, yo see
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| Heads get ripe off-a this
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| Thug all night off-a this
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| Ladies fight off-a this
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| This is That Shit
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| The Projects flip off-a this
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| The trees get lent off-a this
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| Crash your whip off-a this
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| Cuz this is That Shit
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| Yeah yeah, niggas stay showin' they teeth, knowin' they weak
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| We supply you with the fire son, cope with the heat
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| Roamin' the streets, slowin' the Jeeps, ownin' the beat
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| No sleep, chasin' papers, stay focused, it’s deep
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| Keep an eye on boy, he gonna rise like the crime rate
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| Vibrate the tristate, I make ya jaw aque
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| Been around the world, put a house on the hill
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| But still greasy like the corner store grill
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| We roll like Vegas dice, pay the price
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| Watch me roll straight strikes in this game of life
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| See me, yankee hats, John John, blue boots on
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| Movin' in the Ucon, schoolin' all the new borns
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| Mommy get ya groove on, ya bustin' out ya outfit
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| Lovin' how ya move on the floor, baby bounce it
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| Big boys step through, they all step aside
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| They all mesmurised man, y’all recognise
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| Heads get ripe off-a this
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| Some will bite this, Rebel INS your highness
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| Screamin' high pitched, survivalist you bare a likeness
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| In the pits where it’s high risk, I work the Nightshift
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| Like this, like that, put pressure on rap
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| Cheques stack, watch a sex trap
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| Shorty through an X in my 'yac
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| Caddy stretched black, don’t question the fact
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| I lay my head back, spazzin' off a new Meth track
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| Count weed, bag green, blue, purple and brown
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| Crown King with my down Queen lurkin' the town
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| Circle round, get a glimpse of the kid gettin' big
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| Feel that, I peel back, heavy into ya wig
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| For the fugitives and big timers throwin' bricks
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| Plus the plot thugs locked up proven to this
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| Son hit it like Arabs, the world don’t curb haters
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| Don’t quit ya day job, ya girl know the words |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song That Shit , by - Inspectah Deck. Song from the album The Movement, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп