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Gimme What You Got

I'm on my way to my show, uh, shirt Polo

Gortex figaro, jeans Hillfiger though

Starched up, hit the Amaco bought a Philly sparked up

Lunatics will blow the park up

Ooh, this herb, got me geekin' like a nerd

F what you heard, federal roll like a bird

You were, actin' funny when you first saw me

Now, I'm makin' jams have you bein' like go Lee

Hell na trick, I'm picky now

I'm spiffy now, smoke sticky now

Hit the door at the club yellin', "Grip and love"

Met me with a dub, what

(Was it fire playa?)

Straight to the bar, got a Henny and Coke

Ain't been in five minutes, rats sendin' me notes

Could it be the way I get down, the way I throw down?

I don't know but it's one thing I know for sure

With the scenery of St. Louie, we can't be touched

MIS, show your rifle, we just too much

We crossed the bridge, you tripped, uh oh, it's the alarm

Once hear sounds, get down, hope you lucky like Charms

Lunatics will explode, okay, call me the Rigga

Representer, St. Louis figures, chronic hitters

So what's up? Let me introduce my click and I

Lunatics, I'm little T rollin' ninety miles an hour

And you say St. Louis City, c'mon, uh

(Gimme what you got, gimme what you got)

And you say St. Louis City

(Gimme what you got, gimme what you got)

You wild boy, you need to change your whole style boy

Your team will never be the same like Jimmy Johnson's Cowboys

What you gonna try for? You guilty of bein' wack

If Carl Louis was your cousin I wouldn't put you on my track

Get some lyrical jack, get down, Neal like Shaq

Now where we at, so when you try that, Lunatics got my back

It's a fact, you see a blunt you supposed to match

It's a fact, Lunatics gonna put St. Lou on the map

I put St. Lou on my cap and it's obvious see

Keyuan's true when he rap, is you mad at that?

A handsome man 'cause all the rats that I flash

Be havin' some matches, spark it, put yourself in trap

Got 'cha

Want some, get some

'Cause everybody on my team could give some

You know my squad, rip ya girl if ya thorough son

From the clit, what with the gun, son

Work it down, freak it anyway you want son, uh

Is he really real with the skill son, uh?

Did he make a mill with the skill son, uh?

Gotta make 'em dance in this here son, yeah

And you say St. Louis City, c'mon, uh

(Gimme what you got, gimme what you got)

And you say St. Louis City

(Gimme what you got, gimme what you got)

In my spare time unwind and grind fools like coffee

Softly is how I speak to them punks who come actin' salty

Then Ali, I let this thing go, back on up off me

(Boy yeah)

I heard you was on my tail now you yellin', "Nelly, you lost 'em"

Fool, my click is off the hook like O.J.

Fool, there ain't no way, that we could ever be deep in four-play

Run and ask your lady, smokin', hay, hay, hay

I bust a rhyme and I line all them draws, my sign for all a y'all

Be that L on the top of skyscrapers, my lyrics rape ya

Tape your mouth like a hostage, you be talkin' garbage

Makin' my stomach nauseous with that shh that, ah

Tryna' compare your click to mine, you need to hide and catch up

You be like Duff know I'm a liar, makin' you fools transpire

To sweatshirts like Champion attire, so why you try-ah

Lunatic for hire

(Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha)

And you say St. Louis City, c'mon, uh

(Gimme what you got, gimme what you got)

And you say St. Louis City

(Gimme what you got, gimme what you got)

And you say St. Louis City, c'mon, uh

(Gimme what you got, gimme what you got)

And you say St. Louis City

(Gimme what you got, gimme what you got)

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