T.I. – I'm Illy Lyrics
Rebel for the hell of it, hella rich
Never have to sell a brick again, must I tell a bitch again?
The bullshit I'm addressin', check, I'm on some next level shit
Never been fucked in the game, I'm celibate
Rarely out my element, barely out the ghetto with
One foot out and one foot in, intelligent as fellas get
Listen, let's settle this: be clear
I could fall back seven years, still it ain't no one ahead of me
Consider it a blessin' if you get to stand next to me
Five star general, O.G. veteran
Caked like Entenmann's, blowin' that celery
Stack that cash like the U.S. Treasury
Every single thing I ever did was done heavily
Rap until you're seventy, still ain't no catchin' me
Put it on my pops, Big Phil, Aunt Beverly
Be standin' on the top still after they bury me
Nose in the air, so stuck up, arrogant
Ain't got long hot songs, best cherish it
Cool when I drop mine; that's over, finito
You payin' for your foul like a free throw: BAOW!
Now, how could a nigga think that he could see me
Other than the magazine covers or the TV?
Know I sold mo' mixtapes than your CD
You're waitin' on your big break, prayin' you could be me
You ain't made it far as D.C., on the low
I been all around the globe like a god how they treat me
Broads hit they knees, eyes closed when they greet me
Mouth wide open, just beggin' me to skeet-skeet
You in a deep sleep, stop dreamin'
I'm six albums in for ten years, I been five hot steamin'
The limelight's mine, I'm gleamin', beamin'
That's why I say I'm King, bitch, I got my reasons
Wrist so frosty, neck so chilly (bing)
All on my mind is to get more millies (what?)
Niggas talk shit, that's silly (HA!)
Shawty, he ain't about that really? (nah) Is he? (AY!)
Nigga, I'm illy (yeahhhh)
Haha, haha, haha, hey
Ay, I run this city, clearly (BANKHEAD!)
Tell 'em get lost, I'm busy, really?
Nigga, I'm illy
Where niggas get off? Piss off!
Me and mine oughta take time to pop a lid off
Shit, all over the whereabouts of me is y'all
Sick in yo fuckin' mind, you figurin I'mma fizz off
Never cooled off, T.I.P. scorchin'
Minimal injury, though they wishin' me maximum misfortune
Number one hands down, flows paint portraits
Everybody thinks you stink like horse shit
House full of chicks on some Girl Next Door shit
A king who once sell thirty mil out the store quick
Of course this case lost all my endorsements
Tripled up on real estate, still buyin' more shit
But T.I.P. bankrupt accordin to your sources
I'm still caked up along with more reinforcements
Tore shit up from the lab up to the rooftops
Officially the hottest nigga rappin since 2Pac
'Fore you rap 'bout me, best ask 'bout me
I'm out my fuckin' mind, need counselin'
Please don't doubt me, trust me, drama ain't nothin'
It's all fun and games 'til somebody start bustin'
'Member my discussion when rappers be battlin'
I find out about it, better get to skedaddlin'
Pack your family bags, move 'em out to Seattle and
We ever cross paths, you'll need ambulance and bandages
Live life glamorous, so extravagant
Mandarin Oriental, worldwide travellin'
Hip-Hop champion, for real though
You couldn't fuck with me with a Brazil ho, nigga
But still though
[Hook] - 2X
Ay just remember I do this shit when I want to nigga
It's me nigga! Zone One, homie! Yeah, yeah
I don't wanna hear shit 'bout I can't rap like this
When I ain't did it that way nigga
FUCK you partner!
Yeah! Yeah! this the King, bitch!
Edit song description to add:
- Historical context: what album the song's on, how popular it was
- The sample used for the beat — use WhoSampled.com and wikipedia as references