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t i – i can’t help it lyrics


“i can’t help it”
(feat. rocko)

[intro – t.i. – talking]
yeah …
nah …
okay …
what? …
what? …
hey … (yeah)
hey … (yeah)
hey …
hey …

[verse 1 – t.i.]
hey, you know me b-tch n-gg-, i’m all of that
hit your broad with a big d-ck, didn’t call her back
relax little cat, let the big dog attack
thought it was over for me homie, did you fall for that?
u-turn, ran the red, no cardiac
get your hand out of my pocket, what with all of that?
tell the sheriff, he can get these f-ckin charges back
a little money, still gotta thank god for that
regardless, big bank can’t fold it up
ain’t another n-gg- flowin, who as cold as bro
quarter mil’ for the show, really though what’s up
louis duffle bag, say “load it up”
get into the hotel, better know what’s up
leave them n-gg-z out there, get to hold it up
we ain’t never had a problem gettin hoes to f-ck
suck d-ck, lick, spit from the shoulders up
i let this nut get all over her
another thick b-tch kissin all over her
bust the p-ssy wide open, can’t close it up
make her bounce that sh-t, when you found that b-tch
she was laid on the ground, panties down, six chicks
with a trap bag of money, tryin to count that sh-t
never will find me around that b-tch
unless she got them lips wrapped that d-ck (cheah)
other n-gg-z wanna make love, f-ck that
i bing, bang, pound, beat down that cl-t
sick wid it like e-40 and them
fill up every ho jaw, just saw with him
this k-i-n-g aka big bank aka shorty pimp
aye, aka shorty pimp
big bank aka shorty pimp

[chorus – rocko (t.i.)]
i get money (yeah), i can’t help it (nah)
you can’t stop it (can you?), you gotta accept it (what?)
you can’t knock it (what?), you gotta respect it (hey)
this is who i am n-gg- (hey), i can’t help it (hey, hey)
i can’t help it (hey)

[t.i (rocko)]
in the ghetto in a drop rolls-royce
they say keep it one hundred, i ain’t got no choice (i can’t help it)
yeah, i always big bank, i’m so trill and you ain’t
cut it down, b-tch i can’t (i can’t help it)
hey, see how i do it, i’m so hood
cut it off, go hollywood, b-tch i would if i could (i can’t help it)
hey, the city wouldn’t be sh-t without me
fifteen million dollar houses, still can’t get this trap up out me
(i can’t help it)

[verse 2 – rocko]
i’m a hustler all the way down to the bone
terrorist, every day rhyme with that bomb
stay on a date from the night to the morn’
ain’t gonna serve you nothin under a song
no f-ckin favors, don’t ask for no loan
shop with ya dogs, if ya tryin to get on
come in my spot, don’t be callin my phone
everything tryin to stop, leave me alone
grindin for days, i haven’t been home
dope on the lawn, until it’s all gone
mainly strong or whatever you want
gotta get right, give a f-ck if it’s wrong
shots of patrñƒn, whole other zone
eight hundreds on but ya know what i’m on
yo’ b-tch wanna f-ck, now that she know that i’m on
oh motherf-cker, i just wanna bone
peel me n-gg-, i got that tone
need no help, i can hum on my own
i terror your squad but i ain’t from the bronx
one in the back, still play with that drum
except no i don’t, put it right in your home
no radio play, every song that i’m on
in case you ain’t know, i’m rocko the don
zone folk hamilton, low on fun
gucci my hat, gucci my drawers
g’s on my -ss, g’s cover my b-lls
gucci my pants, gucci my shirt
gucci book bag, where i keep all that twerk
gucci bandana on top of my shirt
gucci boots on when i trap in the dirt
g’s around me everywhere i go
g-code, g-code, that’s all i know


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