Who Got It Lyrics - The Movement - Inspectah Deck

"He who write the songs." - repeated throughout the intro 

(Intro: Inspectah Deck) 

Festos (who got it, huh, who got it?) 

Underdawgz in the building, U.D.'s (who got it, huh, who got it?) 

Streetlife, Size/7, what, Johnny Blaze (who got it, huh, who got it?) 

Yeah, what, it's a Shaolin thing y'all, get familiar 

(Inspectah Deck) 

Truth scholar, you holla up the few dollars 

I work it overtime, whether white or blue collar 

I prove my honor, cuz I been through the drama 

Wu-Chronicles, and I continue the saga 

Chart topper, rhyme tough as body armor 

When I speak, I hold the globe like a Dhali Llama 

The flow is aqua, pa, you swimmin' wit the known piranha 

The soul father, get to know my whole persona 

Like Shaquana, from Guyana, stay lace in cabana 

For papa, she shake her tata's like maracas 

Fiend for the block opera, your top sponsor 

Got you locked in the scope of the rocket launcher 

Stop your offers, cop mine, I drop it monster 

Let the rhyme inside your mind like chocolate ganja, it's the worst 

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(Chorus: sampled singer (Inspectah Deck)) 

He, who writes the songs, he, who writes the songs (who got it, huh, who got it?) 

He, who writes the songs, he, who writes the songs (who got it, huh, who got it?) 

He, who writes the songs, he, who writes the songs (who got it, huh, who got it?) 

He, who writes the songs, he, who writes the songs, he. 

(Inspectah Deck) 

I supply the fire, let your headsets be the bomb 

One song, give you pipe dreams like Cheech & Chong 

Got dough, cop and go, all else breeze along 

Be strong, the high last four weeks long 

Get your eat on, she'll hold you til the fever is gone 

Got you cold sweatin', and up creepin' til dawn 

Wide eyed, off the side, no sleepin' on morn' 

O.D.'ing, just the side effects, so, please be warned 

Son, I raise your blood pressure like tight jeans and thongs 

Guaranteed like throwin' the bomb to Keyshawn 

Put your peeps on, I spice it up like Dijon 

We be, ease to calm, to the streets we belong 

Don't be alarmed, cuz indeed the heat is on 

So hot, to touch me, you need tweezers and tongs 

If I breathe on the mic, it's left weakened and torn 

Til he gone, you'll be leanin' like your sneakers are worn, off the worst 

Photos 

(Chorus) 

(Inspectah Deck) 

I got the works, like a Burger deluxe, you heard it was us 

Got You All in Check like Dirty and Bust' 

Play dirty and rough, remain thirsty for bucks 

Seein' dollar signs like today's the first of the month 

Dunn, it hurts when I touch, flames burst off the verses I bust 

Some wanna scuff, but ain't worthy enough 

What? I burn you up rookie, just hang your jersey up 

I'm on the east side, workin' at a Mercury truck 

Seen me servin' up the uncut, that certainly crush 

Murderous, first to bust, expert in the clutch 

That's my word up, loose links, lurk in the cut 

On the re-up, be sure to catch a third degree rush 

Here's your beat up, I keep the cut, verbally plush 

Keep a burnin' Dutch, heat tucked and burgundy chucks 

Won't you turn it up, them wit the girlies, they lust 

It's the dopeman, my jams run your thirty and up, it's the worst 

(Chorus) 

(sample to end)