Get Yours

By D.I.T.C.

On D.I.T.C.

Released on February 22, 2000

5K Views

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[Intro: Big L]

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, uh, Big L, uh, Corleone A.K.A. Tommy Gibbs

Flamboyant Entertainment

D.I.T.C. forever, word up!

Tired of these punk niggas, yo

We gon' hit 'em like this, check it out


[Verse 1: Big L]

Yo! While y'all standin' on the corner bummy and high

I'm out buyin' the finest things money can buy

Cats frontin' like they holdin', but them crabs is broke

Chippin' in for $10 bags of smoke

All on my back because of the fame and the wealth

You male groupie, you ought to be ashamed of yourself

Plus I'm runnin' with thugs who bust slugs with the heat

I be that MC who mad chicks be lovin' to meet

And I'm not just a rapper, I got drugs on the street

I swear you'll never catch Corleone with Lugz on his feet

If you think I'm not as nice as whoever, then put your money up!

Put your jewels up! Whatever, put your honey up!

Put your raggedy house up, punk! Or shut your mouth up

Before I buck lead, make a lot of blood shed, turn your tux red

Far from broke, got enough bread

Mad hoes — ask Beavis, I get nothin' but head


[Hook x2: O.C.]

To the.. tick-tick and you don't quit

Let no man stand in between you and your dough and shit

Bein' broke is a bitch, y'all!

There's no such thing as quit, y'all!

As long as you breathe life, you gotta get yours!


[Verse 2: O.C.]

True indeed, L, I hear these niggas talkin' out they mouth slick

Mad ‘cause they bitches is all on our dick

Peepin' us out at the bar, checkin' out what kind of champagne we sip

Jealous of the ice on my wrist

We pop Don and Cris', no less

Hard-pressed motherfuckers chippin' in for White Star Moët

Chickenheads flock around us, thug niggas protect us

At the end of the night, all the hoes wanna sex us

While y'all stand stagnated with blue balls

You face the song, "You'll Never Find" like Lou Rawls

Shit! How the fuck a nigga with two good hands and feet

Be a bum and not survive in the streets?

Get your weight up! Right now! We ain't promised later

Do what you gotta do to get them big-headed papers

Even if it mean you and ya team pullin' a caper

Instead of goin' out like Pushead & Black, straight up!


[Hook x2: O.C.]

To the.. tick-tick and you don't quit

Let no man stand in between you and your dough and shit

Bein' broke is a bitch, y'all!

There's no such thing as quit, y'all!

As long as you breathe life, you gotta get yours!

[Verse 3: Big L & O.C.]

Check it! My shit's so hot, I give the mic a heat rash

I keep cash, you couldn't pay me to rhyme if the beat trash

I stay bulletproofed up, Benz Couped up

When it's cold, I rock the mink or I'm Triple Goosed up

Yeah, no doubt we're souped up, arrogant as fuck!

Niggas can't touch what we're holdin' when it comes to the buck

I push the double R, ride through the city like a star

Dough bulgin' out my pockets like my dick be hard!

I gotta go see papi and snatch this brick up

But first, I'mma smack this bitch up ‘cause she scratched my 6 up

I ain't the one to tax or stick up

Cats get hit up frontin' on me, that nigga's got nothin on me!

Yo, let's double the C.R.E.A.M. and stick papi, hold it for ransom

Keep the bricks, sell 'em all, triple the pie and some

Kill two birds with one stone, get full blown

Tango and Cash, live niggas, Mush and Corleone


[Hook x2: O.C.]

To the.. tick-tick and you don't quit

Let no man stand in between you and your dough and shit

Bein' broke is a bitch, y'all!

There's no such thing as quit, y'all!

As long as you breathe life, you gotta get yours!


[Verse 4: Diamond D]

I be up in the cut, up in some guts

While you home, busy, stuck in a rut

And wonder why you keep fuckin' it up

I got your whole crew suckin' it up

Them pussy cats ain't nothin' but butt

Better go back to cuttin' it up, button it up

Plus I heard your girl was up in the butt

Metro North bound niggas while I'm truckin' it up

And if you ever get ahead, it ain't nothin' but luck

I'm the beat digga, hip-hop complete nigga

You never fall off ‘cause I move sweet, nigga

Street nigga, but I can talk to the whitey

Push seven buttons and organize an all-nighty

Sons call me almighty ‘cause I'm nice with mines

Surrounded by ice and dimes while you bite your rhymes

Full equipped with rhetoric that enlights the mind

Love it when the sun lights my shine, do the knowledge, uh!