It's On Lyrics

[Intro: Rhyme Recka]
Yeah, Yeah, Big boy shit, Big boy shit
Except then your talk'n all that fabulous love, (Bling)
Big icy chains, Big car, Rims, You know
Rob'n shit

[Rhyme Recka]
I pull up at hot spots front'n, 808's thump'n
Gold diggers want'n my 411 and
Cause they can see something in the dudes that's stunt'n
Multicolored jewels, Seven figure moves
Big residuals, I'm headline news
Watchers enthused, Deep interviews
Albums reviews, Critically acclaimed
Changing the game, Flow's all flame
He's off the chain, Rockstar status
Do nothing average, Lifestyle lavish
Wrist full of carrots, More Jacob then Jerod's
Don't get embarrassed, Tote automatics
Camera stay flashing, Polaroid fashion
I keep hoes gasping, The black shades
The waves, The mystique attracts them
I should of been a Jackson, Lights-Camera-Action
Rich and famous, It's on

[Chorus: Rhyme Recka]
It's on, Superstars, Fancy cars
Bottle pop at the bars with the big entourage
It's on, Hot flows tours and shows
In and out studios, TVs, Videos
It's on, Playa haters spectators
Dime pieces and fakers, Record labels that play us
It's on, Violate cross the line
Plot and scheme on my shine like I don't carry mine
It's on

[Rhyme Recka]
Wardrobe relentless, Red carpet entrance
Hustle every sentence, My convo is vintage
Forbes magazine, Paper on the scene
Fortune five hundred with that C.E.O. lean
Aviators tinted, Cloths weed scented
The hood ??? underwood now re-invented
Batton hard bottoms, Giving haters problems
What you want I got em, Already rockin'
I walk in to purchase you still window shopping
Asking the prices I just pop the tags
Count big faces and walk out with bags
Spectators spot me, I duck paparazzi
Clones try to copy, But obviously not me
They product is sloppy, I'm just too cocky
Neck and wrist blinging, Supermodels clinging
To the all I see in, Fly human being

[Chorus]

[Rhyme Recka]
I step on stages, (Yes-Yes yall, One-Two yall) For six digit wages
My income ranges, I front cover pages
Aggravate haters, Intimidate players
Record spit razors, Buck fifty rhyme sayers
Status is major, Autograph signer
Billboard charter, Live show headliner
Backstage passes, I tap backstage asses
Record label industry parties I crashes
V.I.P. loungers, I'm drunk cursing out the bouncers
Recka in the house the D.J. announces
Burning down ounces, Big clouds of smoke
Three hundred dollar bottles, Champagne wet my throat
The opposite of broke, Direct deposit
Ill logic, You can't afford it I copped it
Flowing in a rocket, Chrome in it, Drop it
Wood grain in the cockpit, Pull up in hot shit

[Chorus]
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