Mr. Complex - Gitcha, Gitcha, Gitcha lyrics
[Mr. Complex - Gitcha, Gitcha, Gitcha lyrics]
Yeeeeaaaaaa-a ahhAAAHHHHhhhhhh!
Got'cha, got'cha, got'cha, got'cha uh, yeah
Y'all, yes yes y'all
Yo I said, ya ready?
Check it out now, we gon' set it on the world
Like this one time (one time)
Check it out yo in- dable, mark-, mark-
Plex where you at!? Where you at yo?
Yo run it back
Ok one more time ready, check it out yo
In- (cred) -able (re) mark- (able)
(Marksman) -ship, able to (hit)
Tar- (gets, gets, gets)
Without aimin!
Divide (Multiply) Subtract the wack (fact remainin)
Like off the
(actions) ashes (We brandish one)
(Flash at the bat that
Burnt off ya eyelashes) yo, we gitcha movin!
We gitcha violent - we gitcha creepin
We gitcha whylin - we gitcha movin
We gitcha amped up - now gitcha ass up
We gitcha clothes wet - now gitcha hands up
We gitcha violent - we gitcha groovin
We gitcha whylin - we gitcha movin
We gitcha amped up - now gitcha ass up
We gitcha clothes wet - now gitcha hands up
Ohhhthem Bells say "Isn't he nice"
The Black Star like Talib
Kweli plus Sicily Tice
Pharoahe Monch threepeat, repeat the rhyme
Defeat competitors then delete the grime
My spine allows me to suck my own cock
Fuckin with these Queens niggas ya get stuck
The strategy off the beat - is
The removal of ya brains
So when I slice ya toes ya
Never felt the agony of defeat the feet
Casually I depleat, blood cells coagulated
From maggot emcees who congregated
Slash macks that hafta blast
Crush fast and crash competition
Math plus what plus what's
The oppositions ass (C'mon think fast now)
Who want it? Pharoahe Monch
Mr complex you'll think you fronted
When I'm in a hot seat
I meet or greet or treat or eat the beat
I bring heat to the beat
I talk sweet to the beat
You sweet bitch you belong on the beach
I reach each and every motherfucker that
I pucker to kiss a mic no matter who it be
Want nothin to do with me
Even if ya court me or ya dislike
I don't battle a fistfight
Check my knuckles, see this one here?
This is the one that'll fuck you up real good
Feel it, feels like wood
If I wanna plant it
I stand slanted to get good leverage
And you'll be goin down like a cool beverage
Like a Bahama Mama when
The drama's microscopic
Like in a tall glass with
Little umbrellas from the tropics
Now what's tropical is typical
The reciprocal of flippin you
Is ah, you've been, flipped
Now just watch you lip
But, your nose is in the way
Throw ya foes away, there's, no shows today
Is been closed for renovations
Your flows have no innovation
I could flip it in front
Of a crowd of cripples
And still get a standing ovation
Gitcha hands up gitcha hands up
Gitcha hands up gitcha hands up
Music to fade
Got'cha, got'cha, got'cha, got'cha uh, yeah
Y'all, yes yes y'all
Yo I said, ya ready?
Check it out now, we gon' set it on the world
Like this one time (one time)
Check it out yo in- dable, mark-, mark-
Plex where you at!? Where you at yo?
Yo run it back
Ok one more time ready, check it out yo
In- (cred) -able (re) mark- (able)
(Marksman) -ship, able to (hit)
Tar- (gets, gets, gets)
Without aimin!
Divide (Multiply) Subtract the wack (fact remainin)
Like off the
(actions) ashes (We brandish one)
(Flash at the bat that
Burnt off ya eyelashes) yo, we gitcha movin!
We gitcha violent - we gitcha creepin
We gitcha whylin - we gitcha movin
We gitcha amped up - now gitcha ass up
We gitcha clothes wet - now gitcha hands up
We gitcha violent - we gitcha groovin
We gitcha whylin - we gitcha movin
We gitcha amped up - now gitcha ass up
We gitcha clothes wet - now gitcha hands up
Ohhhthem Bells say "Isn't he nice"
The Black Star like Talib
Kweli plus Sicily Tice
Pharoahe Monch threepeat, repeat the rhyme
Defeat competitors then delete the grime
My spine allows me to suck my own cock
Fuckin with these Queens niggas ya get stuck
The strategy off the beat - is
The removal of ya brains
So when I slice ya toes ya
Never felt the agony of defeat the feet
Casually I depleat, blood cells coagulated
From maggot emcees who congregated
Slash macks that hafta blast
Crush fast and crash competition
Math plus what plus what's
The oppositions ass (C'mon think fast now)
Who want it? Pharoahe Monch
Mr complex you'll think you fronted
When I'm in a hot seat
I meet or greet or treat or eat the beat
I bring heat to the beat
I talk sweet to the beat
You sweet bitch you belong on the beach
I reach each and every motherfucker that
I pucker to kiss a mic no matter who it be
Want nothin to do with me
Even if ya court me or ya dislike
I don't battle a fistfight
Check my knuckles, see this one here?
This is the one that'll fuck you up real good
Feel it, feels like wood
If I wanna plant it
I stand slanted to get good leverage
And you'll be goin down like a cool beverage
Like a Bahama Mama when
The drama's microscopic
Like in a tall glass with
Little umbrellas from the tropics
Now what's tropical is typical
The reciprocal of flippin you
Is ah, you've been, flipped
Now just watch you lip
But, your nose is in the way
Throw ya foes away, there's, no shows today
Is been closed for renovations
Your flows have no innovation
I could flip it in front
Of a crowd of cripples
And still get a standing ovation
Gitcha hands up gitcha hands up
Gitcha hands up gitcha hands up
Music to fade