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What It Ain't Lyrics

from Dirty South Classics

"What It Ain't" is track #9 on the album Dirty South Classics. It was written by Austin, Dallas L / Gipp, Cameron F / Lopes, Lisa Nicole / Barnett, Robert / Knighton, Willie / Burton, Thomas.
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"What It Ain't" is track #9 on the album Dirty South Classics. It was written by Austin, Dallas L / Gipp, Cameron F / Lopes, Lisa Nicole / Barnett, Robert / Knighton, Willie / Burton, Thomas.
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Now T L C will challenge Goodie MoB
To a game of ghetto laser tag
When they say, "What it is"
You scream, "What it ain't"

That is all, get it
1999, yeah, TLC
The Goodie MoB
The M O B
The synergy of ghetto sounds for the Y 2 G

What you wanna do wit it?
What it is, what it ain't
What
Either you bring it
We gon' bring it
Or you can't

Sometimes it gets kinda messy out there
Sometimes
But we get by one day at a time
What you wanna do wit' it?

I still go eat at Waffle House after 112 when I go out
Where do you hang or do you slang
Or wear a chain or platinum rings?
I still maintain my ghetto side

I keep my pride, get on my ride, 20 inch rims
I sport a brim, hang with my girls
Go to the mall around the world and keep your change
The finest things will still remain so ooh

Don't even look from across the room
You don't know enough about this world to
Ever get it on with me or hang out where I do

Don't even look from across the floor
You don't have game enough for no tour
To come upon a girl like me
And that's not a possibility

She's a built plastic girl I'm a big boss man
I like old model cars and big sedans
You like two doors funding their clothes and rolls
I sit on the porch sip some and pose

I like the 9 when you're humpin' hot ho's
I do sweets while you preferred the lows
Tonight I'm choose 'cuz ya already chose
It's grown folk business and I'll run the floor

'Cuz you ain't ghetto enuff for me
And you ain't hot enuff for me
And you ain't fly enuff for me
And you're too tight with your money

'Cuz you ain't ghetto enuff for me
And you ain't hot enuff for me
And you ain't fly enuff for me
And you're too tight with your money

Shit my baby is still ghetto like hot fries
I come from lovin' niggas and give 20/20 with his bloodshot eyes
Got turned into gold went from two O's to thirty two lows
Which is enough to buy a Rolls ain't but nobody knows

I stay in my place, keep my diamonds out of your face
You wanna be with this player got to play at my pace
I'm slum but I can still cum over there where you're from
If you want some bullshit you better buy you some

Don't even look from across the room
You don't know enough about this world to
Ever get it on with me or hang out where I do

Don't even look from across the floor
You don't have game enough for no tour
To come upon a girl like me
And that's not a possibility

Shorty where your booty? Shorty
Shorty where your gold teeth?
Shorty where your long nails?
Shorty where your fake hair?

Shorty got the attitude
All up in the news
To represent the 90's girl
You the oldies too

I got your back you got the front
It's time we pull it off in the woods with the bump on them dubs
Ain't no scrubs don't conceal I'm a ghetto millionaire
Can you see me gettin' it clear?
I'ma keep on servin' here like I'm supposed to baby

'Cuz you ain't ghetto enuff for me
And you ain't hot enuff for me
And you ain't fly enuff for me
And you're too tight with your money

'Cuz you ain't ghetto enuff for me
And you ain't hot enuff for me
And you ain't fly enuff for me
And you're too tight with your money

What it is
What it ain't
What it is
What it ain't
What it is
What it ain't

What don't, don't be suffocatin' my pockets
While I'm resuscitatin' these topics like
Bring your G's, where your loot?
You're lookin' real dumb when you get the boot

What it is my road to me
Come from some of the hardest of streets
Me custom navigate to the club
With some of the hardest of beats

What it ain't what you sleepin' with all the shit that I've been through
'Cuz I'ma keep doin' all the things that I gots to do
Damn it I'll put your ass to work
Comb your nappy head till it hurts

Where them saints stop these are the ropes
Take your wealth up the street or you might hurt your throat
You know you're ghetto when you don't show up in court
For not payin' your child support or you too bullshit for me
You act like you're too good to eat

At Church's, Popeye's, and Hartz I shop at Walter's Bright Creek
In the mall where it's steep and deep I hang out in Bank Head
You prefer buck head your favorite color is hot pink
I love that thing

'Cuz you ain't ghetto enuff for me
And you ain't hot enuff for me
And you ain't fly enuff for me
And you're too tight with your money

'Cuz you ain't ghetto enuff for me
And you ain't hot enuff for me
And you ain't fly enuff for me
And you're too tight with your money

'Cuz you ain't ghetto enuff for me
And you ain't hot enuff for me
And you ain't fly enuff for me
And you're too tight with your money

What it is
What it ain't
What it is
What it ain't
What it is
What it ain't
...

Songwriters
Austin, Dallas L / Gipp, Cameron F / Lopes, Lisa Nicole / Barnett, Robert / Knighton, Willie / Burton, Thomas

Published by
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

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