
Date of issue: 31.12.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Virgin Records America
Song language: English
Betcha Don't Know |
Betcha don’t know what’s goin on If you don’t know, we’re gonna show you, oooohhhh |
It’s on now, New Year, pop the pain |
Sun blaze thru the grey cloud, stop the rain |
Shear shirts by Chanel, baby, feel the breeze |
Drop top, me and shorty, while she be at my knees |
Let the wind blow, low fade, peep the glow |
Know my style from the foul days, keep it low |
Got new plans, worldwide, livin the life |
Any chick I make wife gon’shiver tonight |
Know the game, it’s ups and downs learnin the ropes |
26 years of age, just learnin to cope |
Came a long way but still got so far to go So by now, I guess you know, talk to me What if we all had minds alike? |
Thought the same |
Only few was taught to get this, divorce the game |
Visualized as a young cat, saw the dream |
Get large, shit hard, and assorted CREAM |
So many came that I saw and went wise on my ways |
Made livin for me more intense, divided my days |
Weekends, party nights, raffled the stakes |
Love sophisticated women, those that rather you wait |
Tipped it off from the finest juice to 90 proof |
Rocked it all, from designer suits to climbin boots |
All in the summertime, workin the courts |
Lookin mommy wit them thick legs, hurtin them shorts |
So many ladies in the world today searchin for mates |
Got these non-players perpin for dates, hold up Give me love if you’ve got it in ya, hot as Virginia |
Hot enough for me to slide this up in ya |
Got the solar, Nat King Cole in his prime |
So behold that, shoes unfold in each rhyme |
Move accordin like the Chosen Ones roamin the Earth |
Gettin head until I’m dead, decompose in the dirt |
Play the same spot, bitch cast, lost it all |
Rollin dice and G you’re better, now you forced to ball |
Havin fun at the main event, toastin cups |
Quarter pieces tryin to get yours roastin up Play the game if you got toys to match your words |
You a vet, throw your net, nigga, catch some birds |
Only a few left, still sincere, spread love |
Thank God, it’s a heaven above, talk to me Chorus to fade |
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