Juicy J
DATZ WHAT IT IZ
[Pre-Chorus]
Picking up the bags
I was five hundred short
N***a stole from me
Where that n***a live?
Where his mama at?
Nig' got kids?
Run up on the block, pah
Don't nobody live

[Chorus]
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is

[Verse 1]
I ain't cool with you n***as
I was true to you n***as
You ain't tryna get richer
You spend way too much on these bitches
I ain't got time for you n***as
You done crossed a line with me, n***a
Not one time, two times, four times with me, n***a
When I'm working hard, good, n***a
Buying out corporate companies
Nonprofit, cleaning money, kids to school, learning something
Signing deals, but n***as eating
Put on Memphis team
Puttin' trust in you n***as
I call my brother
Call a n***a like I got thе drop on 'em, I ain't stoppin'
How you want 'em?
Dead or alivе, hog-tied
Burnin' lives, still breathin'
Dead inside
Do you want him to survive?
Fuck this guy
Drown his ass in the Mississippi
Remind me to send flowers to his wifey
And get some new Jordans for his son Kenny
I'm in the skybox
Watching the Christ
[Chorus]
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is

[Verse 2]
I ain't cool with you bitches
I was true to you bitches
You ain't tryna get richer
You still fuck around with broke n***as
I ain't got time for you women
You done crossed a line with me, thotty
Not ten bands, twenty bands, sixty bands on that pussy
Since we fucked, you learned a bit, just want some money
Black mail, hacked the company, want the life
Private jet, buy in France, Instagram if you come
Hostin the parties, thirsty n***as, touchin on 'em
TMZ, got the cover
Drunk as fuck, you call my momma, talkin' shit
Now she got to cut ya
Patrick called me like cut the bitch off
I cancel the cards, cancel the whip
Go live with yo momma, return the diamonds
I'm savin for a better bitch, stop all that crying
You will never find a better dick
Pull off that ring of that pretty finger
But you was busy, tryna fuck another n***a
Before I was at your crib, I bought that shit
You can have it back, I'm in a Barcelona villa
Tryna take a nap
[Pre-Chorus]
Picking up the bags
I was five hundred short
N***a stole from me
Where that n***a live?
Where his mama at?
Nig' got kids?
Run up on the block
Don't nobody live

[Chorus]
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is, that's what it is
That's what it is