Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Got the Power, artist - Puff Daddy.
Date of issue: 19.04.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
I Got the Power |
My click is in it til it’s over, never sober |
Bustin over, lay in the lane with the 'caine in the Rover |
Pray to Jehovah, for the nigga with the Ruger |
The young Don, the Heron mover |
You know my hustle, I bring the fo' pound to the tussle |
Motherfuck your pit with no muzzle |
So chill cuzo, let me blow for my niggas |
Runnin round, get down like motherfuckin gorillas |
Shorty bop the wolop, in the spot with the dollop |
Pot full of acid, I got the game mastered |
Move dimes, hit twenties addicted to gettin money |
It could be a hundred degrees and never look sunny |
Black I’m tryin to live, somethin got to give |
But everyday’s the same old, runnin from po-po |
Mom think I’m loco, cause I sell crack and puff cocoa |
Yo, it’s the style see it’s still the same |
And when worse comes to worse, I steal the 'ciane |
Papi know my face, so he don’t expect it |
Runnin from the gutter so he gots to accept it |
Stripped his ass naked, then I put a slug in him |
He just another motherfucker, ain’t no love in him |
I put a bug in him, never sleep on one who never slept |
I take my last breath every time I hit the meth |
It’s the D to the E, M to the O N |
Blowin, steady playin shotgun, throwin |
Don’t you see the shorty with the baseball cap |
Don’t make me flip motherfucker with this baseball bat |
Best to brace yo' gat, 'fore I brace mine, cause I lace nine |
From yo' dome to yo' motherfuckin spine |
I be, that nigga that yo' niggas can’t fuck wit |
That nigga that yo' bitches wanna creep wit |
That nigga that you can’t get along wit |
Playa hate but you wanna do a song wit |
That nigga that you see in the videos |
That nigga with the jewels and the jiggy hoes |
That nigga that’ll die for his main man |
That nigga with the gettin money gameplan |
Haven’t you heard that Bad Boys move in silence yet? |
When you increase the peace, the mo' wild it get |
I’m only sizin you niggas from the waist up |
And I ain’t, wettin no parts you can’t touch with makeup |
Mr. Jacob without the Ladder |
It don’t matter clap your wake up and do a shakeup |
Nobody badder, since the, baby finksta |
I was in the playpen wai-tin for kids to enter |
Shit I even blitz the rich to get chips |
Housekeeper disguised with the nine bubble grip |
Extra clip in the vacumn if I slip |
Room service ring the alarm and get the bomb |
Blown to Hong Kong wide been long gone |
Plus I got the power to ramshack, you dig that? |
Worldwide while you simply thug where you live at |
You don’t really wanna get involved, with the L-O-X car-tellers, Goodfellas, |
that’s who we are |
You can’t outsell us, it ain’t shit you could tell us |
Jealous dog, cause we spread like relish |
Bad Boys, and we all eat together |
When it go down, then we draw heat together |
Since I made the connection with the big man |
I done got big plans, to be a little nigga in the big Land |
Ghetto star, presidential all gift wrapped |
And what you call weight? |
I know cats who sniff that |
Enjoy life, what are you sayin? |
If the DA ain’t got a nigga payin, papi got him weighin |
Anything to do with money you can count J in |
Next time we bring it to these faggots we ain’t playin |
Cream of the crop, and we ain’t never gon' stop |
Hittin you in your head with that butter from The Lox |
— fades out |