E.B.I.T.D.A. Lyrics by Clipse: The American hip hop duo Clipse’s fourth studio album, Let God Sort Em Out, has already created a stir in the music market, and it is set to be released on July 11, 2025. The track, titled “E.B.I.T.D.A.”, is inspired by a financial term “Earnings Before Interest, Taxes, Depreciation, and Amortization”. But here Clipse uses this business jargon to explore deeper themes like power, legacy, and survival, especially in a world where everything is cutthroat. Along with Pharrell’s production, this song from the Let God Sort Em Out album is another solid example of sharp lyricism that perfectly blends street wisdom and boardroom references.
Whether you’re here for the vibe or curious about what Clipse is bringing to the table, this track won’t disappoint. Its irresistible music and unforgettable, mind-blowing lyrics make it impossible not to sing along.
Lyrics of E.B.I.T.D.A. by Clipse
[Intro: Pharrell Williams & Pusha T]
I’m In Their Ears Like Vitamin C
I Mean Yellow Like Bright As A Bee, I Mean The Sun Like Bright As Could Be
F80 Not You Tied To Me
Just To Get From A To B, And I Ain’t Drivin’ To See
The Path Made That I Flew On, We Won’t Turn The Parades Off
God Bless Takeoff
I Said I Want The Rolls-royce With The Drapes Off
And It Ain’t Electric So It’s Way Off (Send It Back)
[Verse 1: Pusha T]
Send In For The Gordo Pies
Picked Up The Toro And Drive Straight Up The 405
The Way That The Border’s Designed
I’m Feelin’ Like The Lord Of The Skies
Mom’s Like 2:45, Hit ’em, Make Sure That He Dies
The Text Won’t Ever Reply
The Feds Came And Collected My Guys
The Rain Pours And I’m Hearing They Cries
[Chorus: Pusha T]
Went From Heat Is Up To Fever’s Up
Bitches In The Back, The Seat Is Up
Now I’m Ten Times To Eat Wit’ Her
If You Let The Money Talk, Who Speakin’ Up?
I’m Sleep Walkin’, Y’all Don’t Dream Enough
My Third Passport, I Ain’t Seen Enough
If You Can Breathe Up There, It Ain’t Steep Enough
The Scale Don’t Lie, You Ain’t Even Us
[Verse 2: Pusha T & Malice]
Yeah, Shawty Want Me Hit Her Like An Arch Her
But I’m Not That Sprit, So I Starve Her
How We Fit Thirty Studs In The Collar?
Open The Sunroof, Wave To My Father
Rememberin’ The Shipments At The Portsmouth Harbor
Somethin’ For The Face Numbers And The Nadas
Grew Up Playin’ Real Life Contra
Never Give Up, That’s The Mantra
Liftin’ All This Weight, Now I Live Behind The Gate
Should Dj, The Way They Think You Blew The Crates
You Niggas Bustin’ Bricks On The Plate
I Need More Space To Make Pace
The Rap House Is Runnin’ Out Of Tape
The Drug Money Bustin’ Out The Safes
Scammers Runnin’ In And Out Of Chase
Bottle Service Runnin’ Out Of Ace
[Chorus: Pusha T]
Went From Heat Is Up To Fever’s Up
Bitches In The Back, The Seat Is Up
Now I’m Ten Times To Eat Wit’ Her
If You Let The Money Talk, Who Speakin’ Up?
I’m Sleep Walkin’, Y’all Don’t Dream Enough
My Third Passport, I Ain’t Seen Enough
If You Can Breathe Up There, It Ain’t Steep Enough
The Scale Don’t Lie, You Ain’t Even Us
