That’s Me

Album cover art for "That’s Me" by DJ Clue

DJ Clue - Rap, New York Rap

That’s Me

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Duration: 4:38

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Lyrics

[Intro] I'm not gonna watch this go on any longer You know, they put my food in the dark And then expect me to look for my plate on some Mr. Magoo shit Fuck I look like?! I'm not gon' watch this go on any longer (Killa, Killa, Killa...) Uh (Y'all want to live my life, but...) I'm home, y'all (Y'all just can't live my life, though) Harlem (Y'all want to live my life, but...) Who else is gon' hold us down? (Y'all just can't, y'all just can't) Bloodshed, nigga (Y'all want to live my life, but...) Let's get it right this time (Y'all just can't live my life, though) Understand (Y'all want to live my life, but...) Killa (Y'all just can't) [Verse 1] Yo, I don't understand how these cats sip daiquiris Like it's all good, down at The Hit Factory Be on 54th, whole clique backing me All that click-clackery take your wrist-wrappery I ain't no rapper, B, I skeet Uzis And I can't act, turned down three movies So gimme your chain, your jewels, and your cash And your fast food, I'll eat your food fast My rude ass–carry three weapons And I'll give your face a C-section and keep stepping Who else in a hurry to murk? We kill girls, rape 'em, bury their skirts Imagine me wakin' up 7:30 for work (What?!) I'd rather run the streets, 7-30 with work But met this knucklehead, thought he want the order Came to ask me stop pitching to his daughter (Fuck outta here) Serious? This man can't be Be glad I'm not in her damn panties, got a damn handy How you gon' ever ask stop Cam candy? I'ma sell to anybody in your damn family Uncle Tom, your Aunt Tammy, your grandmammy Your right hand man Randy, understand me In Atlanta, I got an outlandish land piece And a matching Land, desert-colored, sandy [Chorus] You know the one with the whips: THAT'S ME The one with the chicks and the chips: THAT'S ME The one with the toast, pants baggy, yelling out "Get at me!" Get at me, nigga, THAT'S ME The one that be running and dodging: YOU The one that be sucking mad dick: YOU The one that's scared of some yayo Always wanna lay low, 'cause your girl say so: YOU, biatch [Verse 2] I could show you some ice, throw you advice You not that good, dawg, who told you you nice? Your crew, switch-siders When I come through, "Hey, Cam" – dick riders But I only mess with Navigator 528 6 drivers, big buyers – where you live, we live liver Come through, stick your supplier Mack so many hoes, dick in saliva Gas her up, "Ma, put it in your mouth" Then I grab her neck and try to take her tonsils out And I ain't got beef, I don't play them games If I did though, believe me, I would say y'all names Go to your house, red dot scope your crib Smack your earth, snatch your seed, choke your wiz My crew split, it was my mistake But to my nigga Duke, we all make mistakes I'ma get shit right if I spend my cake Jimmy, I'ma get you up out of 5H This is for my niggas that load the pipe Saying "I'm the best, just not promoted right" You know my life – drink, smoke, roll some dice Control the heist, know how my patrol get shiesty – we all get shiest Ma, keep all your rice Wedding ring? HELL NO, I like all my ice Niggas tried to make Killa Cam all polite Turn on the set now, bitch, I'm like 'Poltergeist' You the type talk about everything you got now I interrupt you like, "Not now" – you hot how?! My rings like a dog, all rock wild When I flash it, everybody shocked – "wow!" I see y'all concerned about me You ain't gotta go to school to learn about me [Chorus] Yo, the one with mad guns: THAT'S ME The one with the yay for 23: THAT'S ME The one with the ice, slice, coke half price Yoke that's nice: THAT'S ME The one that's scared of a scuffle: YOU The one that say "Baby girl, I love you": YOU The one that talk about hustling, never seen a oven You all about nothing: YOU, biatch [Outro] Told you I got us this time around, nigga Feeling me, Self, huh?! Harlem – I got us, nigga Santana, Freekey Zekey, Jim Jones... Salty, Fat Shawn... Run with us, or run from us, or get run the fuck over It's fuck us, so fuck y'all! Killa, bitch! Killa, bitch! Killa, bitch! Killa, bitch! Killa, bitch! Killa, bitch!

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Credits

Writers
  • Cam’ron
  • Self Service