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About this song
E.B.I.T.D.A. is a track by Clipse, taken from the album “Let God Sort Em Out”, released July 11, 2025 on Roc Nation Distribution. It runs 2:00 and carries an explicit content notice. Use the Play button above when a verified stream is available, or choose a listening service from the other options.
Within the album sequence, this recording sits alongside The Birds Don't Sing, Chains & Whips, P.O.V.. Open the album page to compare the full running order and the listening options available for each song.
Song details
- Song
- E.B.I.T.D.A.
- Artist
- Clipse
- Release
- Let God Sort Em Out
- Format
- Album
- Duration
- 2:00
- Release date
- July 11, 2025
- Record label
- Roc Nation Distribution
- Content notice
- Explicit
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Lyrics
Find another songI mean the ears like vitamin C
I mean yellow, like bright as a bee
I mean the sun, like bright as can be
F80 knot, you tie it to me
Just to get from A to B, and ain't drive it to see
The Palais, the Eiffel, Army 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
Sending for the Gordo pies
Picked up the Turo and drive
Straight up the 405
The way that the borders designed
I'm feeling like the lord of the skies
Arms like 2:45
Hit 'em, make sure that he dies
That text, won't never reply
The Feds came and collected my guys
The rain pours, and I'm hearing it cries
Went from heaters up to fevers up
Bitches in the back, the seat is up
Now I'm ten times the E.B.I.T.D.A.
If you let the money talk, who speaking up?
I'm sleepwalking, 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
Yeah
Shorty want me hit her like an archer
But I'm not desperate, so I starve her
How we fit 30 studs in the collar?
Open the sunroof, wave to my father
Remembering the shipments at the Portsmouth Harbor
Something for the face-numbers and the nodders
Grew up playing real-life Contra
"Never give up," that's the mantra
Lifting all this weight, now I live behind the gate
Should DJ the way they digging through the crates
You niggas busting bricks on a plate
I need more space to make paste
The wrap houses running out of tape
The drug money busting out the safes
Scammers running in and out of Chase
Bottle service running out of Ace
Went from heaters up to fevers up
Bitches in the back, the seat is up
Now I'm ten times the E.B.I.T.D.A.
If you let the money talk, who speaking up?
I'm sleepwalking, 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
Lyrics supplied by lyrics.ovh.
Like E.B.I.T.D.A.? These songs are for you
- 01 The Birds Don't Sing E 4:01
- 02 Chains & Whips E 4:04
- 03 P.O.V. E 4:18
- 04 So Be It E 3:15
- 05 Ace Trumpets E 2:34
- 06 All Things Considered E 3:09
- 07 M.T.B.T.T.F. E 2:36
- 08 F.I.C.O. E 3:22
- 09 Inglorious Bastards E 2:33
- 10 So Far Ahead E 3:22
- 11 Let God Sort Em Out/Chandeliers E 2:33
- 12 By The Grace Of God E 3:06