| Alan the Chemist
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| Concreatures
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| Boldy Bricks, yeah
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| When them birds flying high in the sky
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| You know how I’m feelin' already
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| And I don’t wanna kick it cause ya’ll niggas petty
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| And if that’s ballin' I’m in L.A. with Jefe
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| On that Mac Mall shit cause I’m all about my fetti
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| Yes yes, UPS’ll send 'em next day
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| Overnight, Fed Ex, express, ese
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| Never been a coward or a pussy in these streets
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| And I put that on a G like a thousand word essay
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| Bricks on consignment, dirty dishes in the sink
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| Finna cook another ki with this chopper and this SK
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| Pistol whippin, I do the fool in the kitchen
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| When I’m spinnin, and I only rock the Trues with the thick stitches
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| I ain’t the man but I damn sure know him
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| Got a fin fulla bands and my hand finna blow it
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| Like I grow it, if you gettin' money then show it
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| I talk it cause I live it, but you already know it
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| It’s Concreatures
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| I’m on my throwback
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| Bo Jack but you already know that
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| And it’s a known fact
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| That I sold crack and all my niggas don’t rap
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| We get the load back
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| Them bolds and? |
| we got them bitches on deck
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| They got my phone tapped
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| I ain’t goin' back, tell them bitches get the bozack
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| Niggas know that they better run that dough back
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| 'Fore we hit your door with the calicos, no on smack
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| We smack niggas for fat living and dog
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| Check the shit out of bitch ass niggas tell 'em to fall back
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| We get points on the pack, and hit y’all wit' the sacks
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| And shake no weight, I’m sellin' all packs
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| I got the Master P hook up, recipe to cook up
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| In the middle of spring I bring fall back
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| For my dogs in them Bronco colors
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| Blue and orange on the yard doin' football numbers
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| I jumped off the porch and I took off runnin'
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| Had a long run, it’s been a long time comin'
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| When chances were slim to none I was the skinniest one but kept the biggest gun
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| In the hood I’m a boss cause I get it done
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| My niggas empty drums, pull up and pull off now that’s a hit and run
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| I’m on my throwback
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| Bo Jack but you already know that
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| And it’s a known fact
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| That I sold crack and all my niggas don’t rap
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| We get the load back
|
| Them bolds and? |
| we got them bitches on deck
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| They got my phone tapped
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| I ain’t goin' back, tell them bitches get the bozack
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| Cause old habits, it’s hard for me to break those
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| We weigh packages whole, shake rattle and roll
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| I’m talkin' crate loads
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| Easy passin' through tolls, breakin' the border
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| Meetin' quotas, drinkin' glasses of rose
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| And Moet for Moses, diamonds in my gold link
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| Glowin' piece, goin' when I’m strikin' a pose
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| We finally famous but this the life that we chose
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| Gold wire, C frames with the ice on my nose
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| I’m on my throwback
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| Bo Jack but you already know that
|
| And it’s a known fact
|
| That I sold crack and all my niggas don’t rap
|
| We get the load back
|
| Them bolds and? |
| we got them bitches on deck
|
| They got my phone tapped
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| I ain’t goin' back, tell them bitches get the bozack |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song You Know , by - BOLDY JAMES. Song from the album My 1st Chemistry Set, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп