I’m Illy T.I.

[Verse 1]
Rebel for the hell of it, hella rich
Never have to sell a brick again—must I tell a bitch again?
The bullshit, I'm addressing; check, I'm on some next-level shit
Never been fucked in the game: I'm celibate
Rarely out my element, barely out the ghetto with
One foot out and one foot in, intelligent as fellas get
Listen, let's settle this; be clear—
I could fall back seven years; still, it ain't no one ahead of me
Consider it a blessing if you get to stand next to me
Five-star general, OG veteran
Caked like Entenmann's, blowing that celery
Stack that cash like the U.S. Treasury
Every single thing I ever did was done heavily
Rap until you're seventy, still ain't no catching me
Put it on my pops, Big Phil, and Beverly
Be standing on the top still after they bury me
Nose in the air: So stuck-up, arrogant
Ain't got long, hot songs: Best cherish it
'Cause when I drop mine, that's over: finito
You payin' for your foul like a free throw—bow!
Now, how could a nigga think that he could see me?
Other than the magazine covers or the TV?
Know I sold more mixtapes than your CD
You're waiting on your big break, praying you could be me
And you ain't made it far as D.C
On the low, I been all around the globe
Like a god, how they treat me
Broads hit they knees, eyes closed when they greet me
Mouth wide open, just begging me to skeet-skeet
You in a deep sleep—stop dreaming
I'm six albums in; for ten years, I been firing hot semen
The limelight's mine, I'm gleaming, beaming
Ask why I say I'm king? Bitch, I got my reasons (Hey!)