We Got It

Written by: Michael Turner & Christopher Portugal

[Double K:]
Give me that mic! Punk, you don't deserve it!
Take this 40 to the head, glass break, now you're dead
Sad-faced clowns with a sad-faced sound
Me and Chris came to fuck up your town, now get down
The party providing a gift and prolific, get splifted
Everytime we throw a jam, it's the ill shit
Unlike these androgynous niggas rapping like hos
Pay attention to the beat and not your goddamn clothes
Pumping the radio, it just ain't the way to go
So I smash the console and take control
In my b-boy stance and appear like Chris Hansen
Keep the girls dancin', so fuck romancin'
We raunchy in this, niggas can't copy this
You a floppy, I'm a flash and drive your beat off a cliff
Get out with one scratch, the chronic of the batch
Play the old school lock and key and do the damn latch
Stay firing up, I got the perfect match
Stay lit in forty knots, blowing fast to the West rap
Like a Vietnam vet without a fucking vest
So fuck what you heard, down there, we the best
Smashing, we 'bout to bring Death Row back
The P, schooled in the trade of ol' boom bap

[Thes One:]
I'm about to plant this mic stand like Iwo Jima
I'mma be Katrina, you complain to fucking FEMA
Like you and you ain't shit when I levy this tax
On wax, hit the Internet, boy, check facts
Get on Wikipedia, media, meta-tag
I metaphysically made a beat better, rap better
Crowds clap better when I rap letters together
To make words come together, kinetically, I'm a veteran
A better man than you, but that's a moot point
I'm three decades down and still dropping new joints
And I'm just getting started like a charcoal briquette
I'm bringing hot shit and haven't gone grey yet
And still jump your whole crew like Evel Knievel
I whip it, whip it, whip it, Devo on a TiVo
Half Brian Eno, half Brian, the drunk beagle
I'm a Family Guy, I could die s loud, drive a Regal
Bumpin' Shock G and Hank Shocklee and playing hooky
While you were shook, G, a short career like Snooki
I bet your bookie, rookie, out on a hello dope
Fret when I grab your damn neck like Tom Morello
I'm a Jello Biafra, too drunk to funk
Come for this, Mike & Chris, ultimate cool shitness

*Important Note: These transcriptions are not verified with P.U.T.S., so there may be errors. We are especially unsure of the greyed-out text. We encourage you to offer your suggestions for lyrics corrections on the site's main page.


This track appears on the following releases:

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The Next Step Question in the Form of an Answer American Men, Vol. 1
"O.S.T." ...Or Stay Tuned Stepfather
The Om Years Fun DMC Carried Away
Highlighter 12 Step Program American Men, Vol. 2
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