I.g.t.
I.g.t. - Make Cents lyrics
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(feat. Inspectah Deck) [Verse One: ?] Yo we ice, you gold (uh-huh), we the dicks, you the pussy ho Move your eyes if you're Whoopi Gold- The game's over, lame soldier Got my '99 Dana Dane froze on ya dame's poster Once again, peon, I puff-puff the marijuan, nothin' beyond No coke, no her-on, ya dead wrong Tryna Magic Don the war dons when you double bronze Money replenish, cook crack like a chemist, nigga yap? Twist his cap back like a gymnast I'm sick, worse than syphilis, I smack niggas on the wall, lookin' inconspicuous Pops wasn't shit, I was bred to be nigger-ish Record deal route, to make bitches bounce If they don't, take me Uptown to cop an ounce I walk around with down payment for a house On my neck alone, I'm the Down South cousin on ya wifey's phone Break ya Bone, Thug and move in Harmony The choice is yours, it don't bother me Roosevelt 'til I'm dust, I.G.T. [Chorus: ?] What ch'all wanna do, make money? Or make cents But it makes sense to make money, and stay bent What ch'all wanna do, make money? Or make cents But it makes sense to make money, and stay bent [Verse Two: ? (O.T.?)] We could blast it out of orbit like a space shuttle, dust you Off in ya huddle, 38 Specials make wet puddles when they bust you A sick sight for sore eyes might disgust you Loud sounds make cassettes settle when they hear it, like a scratched needle O.T. is that evil, I slap people, who act feeble, and not meager Don't measure up, y'act too eager But not to leave ya, we got true beef like tarryin' the beat with duel heatas Take on forms like amoebas, a true character Actin' out scenes, like Drew Barrymore Before we got warrior, you had to have it, now ya don't want it No more, at all, what's wrong wit'cha? I'm gone, so long nigga, it's on critter, let's get it on Word is bond, nigga [Chorus] [Verse Three: Inspectah Deck] Deep in the lobby, fiend clockin' me for my stash Dirty cop passed, flashin' the Glock, he's stoppin' Kash We grabbed the mask and act fools, pack tools to crash crews Brand-new niggas get used, for Cash Rules Chameleons blend, expose theyself in the end Risk they life before thinkin' twice, dyin' ta get in Tha circle, new society, those that die for me I.N.S, I.G.T., my heir lights a sodomy The hunger burns fiery, I'm still wide-eyed from the last high Catchin' visions five-times magnified I spit grammar, lickin' like a twin-hammer To snatch the fame and the wealth, without the glitz nor the glamour Kill the cameras, and all with this act of murda This cat pack a burna, take ya head off, like Nat Turner The war's on, the block ain't safe for you to walk on With new bloodstains, the battleground we just fall-ed on Sign of the times, I'm on a mission to eat right, creepin' at night (yo, yo) Livin' after street life [Verse Four: ?] I'm high energy, low maintenance, born atheist Wrapped in a towel with some Avias Black patriot, computeristic, I spit hot rhymes consistent Leak liquid, combined with the same substance that cyanide is mixed with On every gem I flow different, go the distance Speak persistent, burn incense, meditate, strange mindstate Put it down, with the PaperMate Pen and a pad, that's how I operate, we the total opposite With the same opportunities, same enemies Streak forth from my brain, forms a trinity Without ?Clee? we a trilogy, break me down and re-assemble me This is my assembly, I go hard, with the gift that God has given me The cry, into the night has risen me I'm the epitome, of bein' lyrically Come closer if you ain't hearin' me It's impossible to mimic me--stick a nozzle in my neck Turn it on and empty me, empty me (Fake fuck!) [Chorus]