Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Who Got It, artist - Talib Kweli. Album song Right About Now, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.05.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Javotti Media
Song language: English
Who Got It |
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s, let’s |
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s, let’s |
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s, let’s |
Let’s go, let’s, c’mon |
Ask anybody that you bump into |
Who got it poppin when it come to these rhymes (who got it?) |
We got the sound that you jump into |
You automatically pressin rewind (jump up!) |
They call him Kwe' for short, really talk to the children |
But too many people feel him and they might, try to kill him |
Try to test me I survive, like your grandma recipe |
(Survive) like a Child with a Destiny |
Survive like a Cuban holdin piece of wood floatin to Miami |
Like, Elian Gonzalez cause they back with the family |
Survivin in the streets of Brooklyn, that’s where you find me |
Survivin like somebody mommy clutchin a palm tree in a tsunami |
Who woulda thunk that would ever happen? |
Rootin for Kweli cause he brung back clever rappin |
Sister — heads wrapped in fabric of the standard music |
Chicks — with their tits, made of plastic look, dancin to it |
In this arena I balance, your boy stand alone |
And win it cause these rappers is more annoying than camera phones |
Maybe it’s me, it could be hard to move me |
But these niggas got me trippin like a white girl in a horror movie! |
Do you like the way he jumped on it? |
Take a step back, you don’t want it |
Do you like the way he jumped on it? |
Take a step back, you don’t, you don’t |
Yeah… this the one right here, put it on everything |
Drop it heavy then get in the wind like a weather vane |
Let it rain, let it pour, metaphor so let it off |
Like the 38th special edition of «Set it Off» |
Yo the trap, got you blastin your heat |
It’s hot ones like shotguns from the passenger seat |
The mic booth, the district where they be packin the meat |
Cause they kept it raw as the jump off, I hop, back on the beat |
Back on the street like an ex-con |
With enough in his pocket for a tip at a restaurant |
It’s a cold world, dress warm |
Cuttin through the bullshit record labels and the shady deals |
Ladies feel the beat when they out clubbin like baby seals |
Let me chill out cause the raw image to focus on |
Get back to my point, this joint is jumpin like a circus song |
Yeah, to break it down to the basic components |
They don’t want it so I’m runnin out of worthy opponents, whoa |
Even when I be sleepin my brain it keep goin deep inside |
A street poem with rhymes that keep blowin your mind |
With a unique flow and heat showin |
Grown men weepin in the open, tears leak into the ocean |
Today is (Training Day), I passed the test like Ethan Hawk and |
I’m droppin signs like Craig G, or Stephen Hawkins |
Y’all don’t rhyme, y’all speak in quotes of MC’s that sleep in coffins |
Latchin on like a leech and eatin off 'em, you weak and soft and |
Jump, jump, jump — Brooklyn jump up |
Jump, jump, jump — Harlem jump up |
Jump, jump, jump — yo, West coast jump up |
Jump, jump, jump — everybody jump up |
Jump, jump, jump — Queens jump up |
Jump, jump, jump — jump up |
Jump, jump, jump — Midwest jump up |
Jump, jump, jump — here we go (everybody like) yeah |