Lyrics Don't Know - Termanology, Chasen Hampton

Don't Know

This can’t be life, 24 hour flights
Bangin' out like Mimi on the shower pipes
I smoke sour, little bit of dab in it
Daydreamin' 'bout the mansion with the lab in it
24 karat gold
Gold chariots with horses to carry us
A gorgeous new fortune, I’m after it
Along the way, still bringin' more classic shit
I go berserk in the booth, but where the cash at?
I’m tryna invest stacks back to NASDAQ
Artists bottle poppin' in clubs like you’re a star
Got 400 dollar kicks but ain’t got a car
Got a Gucci belt but you ain’t got a crib
And your mom ain’t even got a decent place to live
I bet these rappers that be claimin' they’re next
Get a reality check before a royalty check
I’m just sayin'
No sense in tryna fake it
'Til you make it if it ain’t true life
Cause you know what you do on the dock
Will leave until it comes to life
Don’t think that we don’t know
Don’t think that we don’t know
Don’t think that we don’t know
Cause we leave until it comes to life
Your insecurity shows through your jewelry and clothes
You ain’t happy but you actin' like you is in your post
I imagine you was into fashion, strikin' a pose
But once you turn 25, he ain’t like you no more
Had a new improved you, hot, bright on the pole
Always smilin', feelin' fine, rarely ever says no
Then there’s you, always mad, tryna fight on the phone
Gettin' your man vexed so he don’t like to come home
I could relate, had a 2 to 5 at my place
At all times, just imagine me never gettin' to rhyme
I see the future, I knew I would beat the booth up
I beat the odds, put the hood on MTV News, I’m Mass
Still got my hood pass, I be dolo
Lawrence house party, dipped down wearin' Polo
I got a problem with spendin' before I get it
We all self conscious, I’m just the second to admit it
I’m catchin' funny vibes, why you always gotta lie?
Man you couldn’t keep it a buck to save your fuckin' life
Hangin' with the clique and then takin' pics of the other side
Sucker shit, somehow I still let it ride
Yeah you be dressin' fly, kicks all matchin' your coat
But when I ask about your album, you tell me you’re broke
Can’t afford a studio but got a bottle of Mo
Yeah you’re doin' your thing, you’re on your grind, I know
Everybody wanna be a rap dude
And get checks but don’t nobody wanna pay dues
You more concerned how you lookin' on the cam
For the hood, than actually winnin' and doin' good
That’s a problem, y’all got the internet complexed
Just your own family for likes and some comments
But when your money get low and you need some more dough
And you need somewhere to go
Don’t call me