Lyrics:
baby, oakland town
Can't understand why I'm so down I'm not a white wall, I'm a vogue like seen
On white wheel I roll got a fresh new beat, made ya get
a label, I never get signed!
More time, niggas wanna leave me behind.
Tell me to put my name on they dotted line.
Ya find, the way I am contracts
No we won't stop, fuck it call the cops (uh-huh)
I be the invincible, in the school of hard knocks
I'm the principle, Fatman Joe ya know
[Parrish
Ya’ll Don’t Know
Written by Anthony Parker
Verse 1
What y'all know about living in silence we protest might turn violence so much hate no true
Bret: Hello
Jermaine: Hi
Bret: Hello, man, sitting in the park
Jermaine: I just said "hi", woman in the park
Bret: How ya' doin'?
Jermaine:
You know how I am, you know, girl
You know, you know you a bitch anyway
I don't wanna talk to yo punk ass
We don't see eye to eye
I cut you off (I cut
of people unhappy nigga
You in debt and ya need to get at me
Chorus
I'm gonna let ya know it (that's right)
I'm gonna let ya know it (so
to sleep
Wake up in the morning get it again
If I can't catch ya I'm whackin' ya mans
Shots fired then his soul did a dance
Cut off his head send it to his
that out
You better cut that out, boy
Befo' it be too, late
A-now-now, when you get high
You know now, you'll get worse
When you get drunk
You
that out
You better cut that out, boy
Befo' it be too, late
A-now-now, when you get high
You know now, you'll get worse
When you get drunk
You
the girls Puba snacks,
I wouldn't try to steal the style, you just might catch a cardiac
Figured the way to get paid is to grab the mic, rehearse, ya know
have get a gram money nigga u use to pray to get a brick bad All them days I was just stuck broke, Had to Hit the kitchen nigga had to cut dope, Now I’m
the cream and the cash, by any means I'ma mash
So go get my green out the stash, walk with that beam in ya ass
'Cause I gotta
Hit the block, count that
rubbed
This the shit she hollered in my ear before we left the club
I'd like to get to know ya, so I can show ya (uh)
Put the pussy on ya, like I told
what we were buildin before
So add a million sold or more when I get at you whores
State ya name gangsta!
Cut Throat the living threat street shit
Coolin' in the cut with my shooters
(I don't even know who the fuck own any of these)
Coolin' in the cut with my shooters
30 clip, hanging off
the tension
Inspired by pensions
Get a grip
Ya acid trip havin' lookin' ass bitch
BITCH
BITCH [if you buy their truth, you trippin']
B I T C H
Caw like
actin' like it ain't no thing
'Cause I can see you move a little closer, closer
Girl I gotta get to get to know ya, know ya
Everything about ya makes me
cope
Dogs get mad when niggas stand broke
With a phat rope, yo, what a joke!
Shit, I had coke and fifty pound notes
Puffed it for those niggas I know
Sorry
Yeah, come on
We used to make love, now we hate each other guts
No more words between us you in the streets I'm in the cut
I figure, give me
And let's get fucked up, ya know what I'm sayin'
Pass it man, pass the dank sssssss
Damn, this motherfuckin' green, this shit stank man
Yo, who that is right
Little weave! I'll let them suckas
Know it's on for life
Don't let the Westside ride the night haha
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
Mess with me and get
and she comin' for you
You ain't scared, is ya?
Ho, get it right, get out of sight
She on the street, run fo' your life
Don't you know that she cut you
that shit
More than a girl I'm getting faded with
You make me wanna cut that player shit
Usually I be on my player shit
You know I know that you don't
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