I Can't Get With That Lyrics - Jay-z

Yeah!! 

Check it, check it out 

Uhhh, haha, gotta keep it fat 

I can't get with that 

I gotta keep it thick never miss so I hit em like this 

Straight to the track, my lyrics is phat, I rip it the hell -- down 

More than a fluke, I'm regularly wreckin this joint so what -- now 

With so many niggas that's biting it's harder to detect who I be 

Well check out the J, check out the A, check out the Y, Z 

Original rap, I'm makin it slap, I'm hemmin it up like that 

Stingin it, strikin it, swingin it fat, bring it back 

I be that nigga with a gat, boom-clack 

Don't ever sweat it when I go, I zoom back 

Better than ever, never better, you better, whatever 

I suggest the Ex-Lax and that'll get your shit together 

I give you a snotty nose from body blows 

Nobody's safe at a party even Gotti goes adios 

I got-got-got Flav-flav-flav-flavor, so save yours 

One verse and it's a hearse, I played and I slayed yours 

Get it, got it, ready to flip, I doubt it 

No need to prolong, check out the man gone, haha 

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The next, player, never get no rest, you're livin with stress 

Cause just around the corner beez the best player 

You're fearin my clout, if weed got you runnin your mouth 

You better blow that shhhiiitt out 

The Jigga's back, you brothers are flat 

I'll amaze the way that Jay rap, now how in the hell did he say that? 

You diggin me, the, epitome of, rippin it raw 

You kiddin me, no artist that rap, gettin bigger thzn me 

Although these cats are wettin my style, I'm still thristy 

And we all gotta fall off, but you first G 

I'll be the last, it'll be a, cold day in hell 

before you see me, Sauce and Jaz, chillin with your wack ass 

We make hits, and harmony, like Take 6 

While you brothers double pumped up them fake hits 

Our Roc-A-Fella never Sell-A-Out 

Brothers who don't have the heart, you better tell your mouth, uh 

Photos 

Ha-hah 

This how we do 

All year round, this is how it goes down 

Now check it out 

I don't kick it I punt it, I'm so wicked you want it? 

My tongue is tired from lickin my fingers and countin up hundreds 

So I bought a money machine and it goes 

A tat-tat-trrrittaat-tat-triiatttt-at-tit-tit-tit-dough 

How many styles I gotta kick to prove I'm def? 

I can even-hah-kick my-hah-rip that shit-hah-and catch a breath 

You can't see this, ask this nigga Dash 

Now he don't count cause I'm makin him mad rich 

This nigga's nothin but the truth 

Many view Jay-Z as a threat to they loot. so 

my thing is tight, can't slip, gotta grip 

like a pit in a dog fight, yo, I'm a-iight 

I ain't checkin for you 'less you my peoples 

And just in case you didn't know peep the -- steelo 

It goes, one dime for your mind 

Two bone crushers for your spine 

Cause none of ya game is rougher than mine 

Ha-hah. Jay-Z. live in the ninety-five 

with a little help along, c'mon 

Sacue Money defintly repesentin 

Big Jaz in the house 

Superman production type shit