What? What?

Lyrics

[Verse 1] Killin' these rappers, leadin' the scene back up The Crooked Eye [?], Illy the beat jacker Streets back us, we turnin' the heat back up Your stats don't stack up, pack up, that's what's up Set up shop, get us props Never let not one stop invest a stock In the team so we all G, so I'm next to rock And I ain't sweatin' 'bout budgets or guestin' spots, uh Dear summer burnin' all year From the fire out my mouth and I ain't seein' near-comers I'm new to it, picked up how the crew do it and uh Yeah, I'm gettin' used to it, the who's who o' the sick shit Tip scales, flip the script with Constantly dope renditions when I spit this I burn but just as quick to build bridges Could kill with the shit that I'm spittin' to steal pictures [Chorus] What? What? Who the fuck gon' bring it Like that, that, nah, I ain't fuckin' with you Crap cats, sideways motherfuckers off Track, track and that's fact, fact Yeah, what? What? Who the fuck gon' bring it Like that, that, nah, I ain't fuckin' with you Crap cats, sideways motherfuckers off Track and that's fact [Verse 2] Bit o' the high life, bit o' the hood, they never get it as tight They get it right, never spit it as good Crooked Eye [?], get the shit understood Never give 'em an inch, all good to give 'em a foot Burn boot up the arse, I groove to the beat When them other cats step up, you're glued to your seat If dudes wanna ask, I'm the dude with the heat With the crew known to spit the truth when they speak Real motherfuckers, still with yas Haters in the Matrix, just glitches, bitches Permanent victim o' Ill's spit addiction Rookies wanna try but my kicks' too big to fit them Too much soul, too much heart Got full control over my music paths And dudes can start it up and pull the spar I'd rather play with ladies in pools and spas, you know [Chorus] Yeah, what? What? Who the fuck gon' bring it Like that, that, nah, I ain't fuckin' with you Crap cats, sideways motherfuckers off Track, track and that's fact, fact Yeah, what? What? Who the fuck gon' bring it Like that, that, nah, I ain't fuckin' with you Crap cats, sideways motherfuckers off Track and that's fact, yeah