[Chorus]. I want my Dat back. I want my Dat back. I need my Dat back. I want my Dat back. Where the hell is my Dat at. I want my Dat back. I need my dat back. I want my Dat back. I need my Dat back. I want my Dat back. I played 13 for that. I want my Dat Back. I need my dat back. I want my Dat Back. I need my dat back. [Verse One]. Yo I been listen to you since I was a small crop. I bought your tape and watched your career flop. I post your face up in my room. You had the grim look so when I was mad nigga you was mad too. You blessed me with opportunity to listen. And by droppin an album you made music my mission. I would turn on the TV. All I see is DMC who I truly want to be. And mama bought a karaoke machine. As present so I can have sessions with the young adolescence. In my room. Fuck a cartoon. I'm to busy trying to get at you. With this music. And as time went on my skills got tighter. An unbelievable writer unbelievable reciter. Hit the hip hop spots. Closed the ciphers. Obie trice dark like a phantom with flows. And by this time shit you like a platinum with those. [Chorus]. I gotta get me a Dat. I need a Dat. What the hell is a dat? (Digital Audiotape). Get a Dat. I gotta get a Dat. Yoâ€¦ What's a Dat. [Verse 2]. Hey yo you came to my town one day I got the word. The illest emcee in the rap game most preferred. I thought it was a start for me to exploit my style. And maybe you lend a hand out. So I dropped what the fuck I was doin. Grabbed the DAT. Jetted to the weed spot. And blew the whole fuckin sack with my man Joe. Who keep the ten-dollar Dats. He like â€œyou really bout to make it huh o". I just laughed. Shot up out the spot. Started the engine. Hold the dat tight in my right while I was steerin. Thinking to myself when the voices started blarrin. HEY YO HEY YO HEY YO. Arrived at the spot. Parking lot packed. Filled with rap-a-lots and bad boy cats. Timbos and backpacks. Hood thing playin with Mecca. Old shirty and scissor hands. I got ta trippin on them niggas when they started rappin. They aggravating the line while u autographin. In fact when I finally reached ya. Them niggas got thrown out a long time ago nice ta meet ya. Obie Trice nuttin nice. On this mic device. I got a Dat for ya tonight. Clinched in my right. But don't take it if you aint gonna holla aight. [Hook]. Hey yo I gave him the dat now my foot is in the door. I gave him the dat now I'm bout to go on tour. Yo I gave him the dat my foot is in the door I'm a bout to go on tour. Yeah Yeah. [Verse 3]. Now a year den past and I aint here from yer ass. I den strapped some loot. Ready to jump in the coupe. Head for NEW YORK. And if I see ya I'm a shoot up all over your shit. Since I been wearing troops. And you can't call a nigga back to tell me that my shit is garbage. If I see you in concert I'm a snap. Slap you from the roof like Harley did Jack. I want my fuckin dat back. FUCK THAT. [Chorus]. Hey yo I need my Dat back. I payed $13.50 for that. Hey yo I want my Dat Back. Hey yoâ€¦ Where's My Dat at. I said you said you was gonna holla back. You Know I need my Dat back. I want my Dat back. I played $13.50 for that. And you aint called me back. You know I want my fuckin dat back. Cut it out. Cut it out. Obie Trice. Moss Productions. Napp entertainment. â€˜99 shit.