Artist: T.I. Album: Paper Trail Song: I'm Illy Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [T.I.] 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 70, 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 10 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 [Chorus: T.I.] Wrist so frosty, neck so chilly (bing) All on my mind is to get more millies (what?) Niggaz 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 [T.I.] Where niggaz 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'ma fizz off Never cooled off, Tip scorchin Minimal injury thought 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 30 mil' out the store quick Of course this case lost all my endorsements Tripled up on real estate, still buyin more shit But Tip 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 hoe nigga, but still though [Chorus] - 2X [T.I. - over Chorus] Hahaha, HEY... 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! Yeahhhhh - this the King, bitch!