Get Your Handz Off Lyrics

Get Your Handz Off lyrics

(feat. Kanye West)


From the start to the finish

I'ma bark on contenders

Wanna tarnish my image

I can't promise forgiveness

See I was never like this

My mom's would never like this

And y'all was never like us

That's why y'all never liked us

See I might take your style

Flip it back, make it crack

Sell a couple mil get some stacks

Here you go now take it back

I'm spittin lines of fire

I'm in the line of fire

Designer attire, makin me a sign of desire

I just rhyme to inspire, your favorite line supplier

I run through fan's signs and landmines the size of tires

How many minds inquire, I got mines and acquired

Enough props to make y'all resign and retire



Now hold on, and just stomp stomp

Get your hands off me

Now hold on, and just stomp stomp

Get your hands off me



This is hot as it gets, your shit's not as intense

My flow got 'em convinced, they ain't got at 'em since

My back's against the wall

So if I turn and flee and run from what's in front of me

That won't make no sense at all

This for my dons and divas, haters and non-believers

They just try'na deceive us like Judas dishonored Jesus

Why you try'na critique this, don't take kindness for weakness

Leave you behind the speakers, body minus some pieces

You got records to sell, I got records to break

You will never excel against me measure the rate



I got too much at stake I just follow my fate

Annihilate and dominate and I ain't even try'na wait



While you hang out, I bang out

Make moves like shots rang out

Wanna know, what my slang 'bout

They be like, "Shut your damn mouth"

Your chances are slim, makin' advances on Jin

While you, shootin' the breeze, I'm dancin' with the wind

This is not your, ordinary

My style, sort of varies

Slaughter you, then your crew

Cause you know, the more the merry

You already know the outcome, so how come you doubt son

("I'm goin' out by any means necessary" - [Malcolm])

Hip-hop without Jin is like, shootouts without guns

Churches without nuns, bankers without funds

Smokin' without lungs, cities without slums

My fans force me, get your f**kin' hands off me