Got It Bad Y'all Lyrics - King Tee

Ladies and gentleman 

That nigga King Tee and the Al-cum-a-holiks 

Pooh-butts play the rear? cause I'm makin? yapes 

The rhymes ain't no thicker than a Skittle grapes 

A lot of girls would like to thank me for the hanky-panky 

On the mic I hold a belt, now I know no one could spank me 

It took a long time for the people to hear my rhymes 

Seems like I been rappin? since my birth in '69 

Sorry to keep you waitin?, I run rhymes like Walter Payton 

I get a rhyme like spokes on a Dayton 

But I won't knock off, because I just rock off 

The beats to get funky, like when you take your sock off 

To all the white folks I would like to say howdy 

And to all my brothers I say peace, quit actin? rowdy 

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Wack MCs in? 92, ew, you need to take a rest 

The public don't you aim the best 

You're softer than a hooker? s chest 

Raps, I make? em, snaps, I make? em 

For duties movin? booties? cause I shake, shake, shake? em 

And I got rhymes, funky funky rhymes 

E-Swift hold the needle down with nickels and dimes 

I drink Olde English, St. Ide's and Mickeys 

When it's time to roll, I throw on my black Dickeys 

On the mic I get wicked, like Wilson Pickett 

I get the place jumpin? like a cricket when I kick shit 

I'm from the West Coast but don't sleep home-stimpy 

Even if I was a paperboy, you still couldn't rip me 

I walk up and chalk up pairs like the Knicks 

I'm all in the mix like snares and kicks 

When it comes to rhymes I get loose like belt buckles 

Those who chose to oppose this nose is felt knuckles 

Photos 

(Where you goin' to?) 

To the tip 

(And what cha? bout to do?) 

? Bout to rip 

Some people use the word funky too loosely 

And just how many rappers say they kick it like Bruce Lee 

(What's your favorite brew?) 

Olde E 

(And what it make you do?) 

Go pee 

It used to be about rhymes, all about rhymes 

Now rappers rearrangin? and changin? like times 

I got it bad, y'all, I got it bad, y'all 

When it comes to the pen and the pad, y'all 

I got it bad, y'all, I got it bad, y'all 

When it comes to the pen and the pad, y'all 

Back the fuck up, gimme room to breathe 

Not too many niggaz can flip the rhymes like these 

I freak the technique as if it was a bitch 

Got more soul than the pit with a fifth 

Pitch the ball, so I can beat it with the bat 

Talk some shit, so I can smoke ya with my gat 

I'm feelin? kind, feelin? kinda, feelin? kinda, feelin? kinda 

Feelin? kinda buzzed off a sack of chocolate tie 

My, my, my ho, I like to rip the shows up 

Smack the hoes that walk around with they nose up 

Run to the liquor store before they close up 

Buy a few 40s,? cause daily I get to' up 

Sit at the crib and write riggy riggy rhymes 

Line after line after liggy liggy line 

Yo, I can get funky, buy my tape and bump me 

To the break of dawn, I hit the bud and pass it on 

Hangin? at the park, shootin? craps on the weekend 

My brown bag is wet? cause my tall can is leakin? 

Starin? at the cops, beatin? up on Rodney 

While a pack of O.G.'s steppin? to me tryin? to rob me 

Just because I'm dope, niggaz wanna smoke me 

On the mic I get funky while you're doin? the hokey-pokey 

Dance steps, I think that you should leave to Paula 

Alkaholiks is the shit, E-Swift's the smooth baller 

Is slangin? these rhymes like a rock 

Life ain't shit but money and a glock 

Don't punch a clock, but I cock a fat knot 

So I can smoke a lot of pot that I roll up with tops 

And ya ain't heard shit yet, I'm just getting? warm 

Like hot butter on, say what? The popcorn 

I'm headed to the top, please give me my props 

My beats are fat as fuck, so bump my shit in your box 

I love to hit the skinz, but then again who doesn? t 

I love to hit the herbs? cause it leave me feelin? buzzin? 

I dedicate this chumpie to the poets who can wreck 

And to all the nottie dreads, I gots to give them? nuff respect 

(Where you goin' to?) 

To the tip 

(And what cha? bout to do?) 

? Bout to rip 

Some people use the word funky too loosely 

And just how many niggaz say they kick it like Bruce Lee 

(What's your favorite brew?) 

Olde E 

(And what it make you do?) 

Go pee 

It used to be about rhymes, all about rhymes 

Now rappers rearrangin?, and changin? like times 

I got it bad, y'all, I got it bad, y'all 

When it comes to the pen and the pad, y'all 

I got it bad, y'all, I got it bad, y'all 

When it comes to the pen and the pad, y'all 

Up jumps the man with the loot 

Rockin? like a troop with the Alkaholik group 

Everything is kosher, got a little taller 

Livin? kinda phat? cause King Tee's a baler 

I just irritate the wack, leave? em so confused 

When I'm checkin? on the mic with the ones and twos 

Sneak you a peek of the drunk technique 

Can't stand up, need to take a seat 

Baby, baby, baby, it's the Alkaholiks 

But I can freak the mic no matter how ya call it 

Metaphors grand, and I'm the great man 

Drink a whole fifth yes, I can, yes, I can can 

The girls call me dick-em-down 

Got that title rockin? for the crown 

Catch y'all later, around next weekend 

I'm a Alkaholik and I'm late for my meeting