Let's Get It Lyrics - Puff Daddy

[Black Rob - almost mumbling] 

They said that I'm a Rottweiler 

And I'm from the Rottweiler house, the Rottweiler New York 

[G-Dep] 

Really, get smacked silly, you get smacked silly 

Fucking with these niggaz from the, what you gon' do 

When you ready? Shit I was born ready 

And I was already on fish and spaghetti 

Creep with the culture, rap I can coach ya 

Attack like a vulture, see what I told ya? 

Said I'd get'cha, wear it if it fit ya 

Y'all thirteen inches, I see the big picture 

If it's to get richer, I'd probably get wit ya 

If not burn it, get hot like a furnace 

Shoot the video, motherfuck city permits 

We own the city, on the phone with Diddy (*phone sounds*) 

Red bone pretty, when she get aroused 

like to suck her own titty; put it in the video 

Ya want to holla got to follow nigga here we go 

Get you ticket, the train, don't miss it 

Won't reach out, and ya bet I won't visit 

'til my whole wardrobe is-it, now listen 

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(Chorus) 

Make this money, take this money (Let's get it) 

Ain't no way you can take this from me (Let's get it) 

Ain't shit funny (uh) shake it honey (Let's get it) 

Take it money.. now let's get it (Let's get it) 

[G-Dep] 

Creep with your people 

Though my shit is Sweet and Low it's no Equal 

Front but you lookin 

Once I throw the hook in proceed to get cookin 

with the game when I sewed it 

Since you came thought I owed you one 

Wide big Lincoln, why's this guy on the side for the stinking? 

Watch task force dash forward lookin marveled 

It's a big chance, big pants, might guard him 

with my man's type proper 

Better learn quick, cause my clique don't argue 

You ain't my crew, who are you? Beat it 

'fore we take off make sure you all seated 

In Billboard read it, believe it 

Photos 

(Chorus) 

[G-Dep] 

Soul Controller, rap Ayatollah 

Kids hate me when they older I put cracks by the stroller 

I'm registered voter, motherfuck a quota 

Give some bakin soda and a quarter 

Bet I flow straight up out the water 

I'ma wreck the game 'til it say "out of order" 

Put the high score up 

Then tear the floor up 

On the world tour with your whore out in Europe 

Head on the tour bus 

Do what them niggaz in the drop thinks cooler 

Called up five reporters to thank my supporters 

Hittin wives and daughters 

Brought 'em neck spray from Estee Lauders 

Call Puffy to order 

[P-Diddy] 

Aiyyo, call me Diddy - I run this city 

Send the cops, the D.A. and feds to come get me 

Cats want to leave me for dead you comin with me 

Gettin head in the Bentley red at one fifty 

Straight lose it, love two things my family my music 

Might co-write and produce it 

Drop mine, hot 9 exclusive 

Got y'all Hawkin like Yusef 

Cause I can, break backs and stacks it's no problem 

Make raps and tracks and go Harlem 

I get worldwide coverage 

Got so many spots I don't even buy luggage, ya love it 

Make moves major, hide out in Asia 

If your girl keep comin around them I'm a blaze her 

I'm the Bad Boy flavor, light blue gators 

NOT GUILTY, and I'm filthy, c'mon 

(Chorus) 

[Black Rob (Puffy)] 

I be the Eastside Soprano, Rob Marciano 

Flow in e'ry channel with the Iverson handle 

Forty-five sparks turn your day gray flannel 

Snatch the yay of the mantle, then proceed to dismantle 

Can't slay Rob 

How many niggaz done tried to play Rob, quit they day job 

Tired of putting broke niggaz under the wing 

If I go to jail again I'm goin under the bing 

Act like you gon' pull that thing thing 

You the only one that always get stuck for bling bling 

I represent "A" block in Sing Sing 

Almost caught a buck fifty for fuckin a Latin King's queen 

Moves for paper, booze no chaser 

Bullets out the blazer four-fifth with the laser 

Come and get your shit splitted, newspapers said I did it 

(He ain't do it) Now let's get it (Let's get it) 

(Chorus) (x3)