| You gotta stay sharp out here
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| You gotta stay in the loop
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| Can’t do what you did yesterday (Heatmakerz)
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| If you wanna live tomorrow (Crack Music)
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| Uh-huh, Jones
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| It’s not a weapon they can form against me that will prosper (Pray for me)
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| I been whippin' foreign Bentleys with an ill posture (Skrrt, skrrt)
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| Selassie, I know some deadly rastas
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| I been dancin' with the wolves, it’s like Kevin Costner (You hear me?)
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| Bakin' up them cakes, it’s like Better Crocker (Fact though)
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| I can give it to you hard if you already rock it (How you want that?)
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| But keep it low 'cause you know you don’t want the feds to pop up
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| On the real, with all this money, only the feds can stop us (Chill)
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| On birthdays was the worst days (Woo)
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| Now I might pop eighty grand on a Thursday (Count that up)
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| Two-point-two pounds is what the birds weigh (What that weight?)
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| If I’m a pastor, please tell me what the church say (Amen)
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| Heard you, be cool when I swerve through
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| Call them goons up, them niggas gon' purge through
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| I done lived through things that might disturb you (Disturb you)
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| Facts
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| Promise, this ain’t the life you lookin' for (Nope)
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| Searched my car but I don’t know what they lookin' for
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| Secret indictments and I don’t know what they took 'em for (Damn)
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| I seen mommy in the kitchen, she was cookin' raw (Uh-oh)
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| The traphouse with the trap door (Skrrt skrrt)
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| Packed house, now we comin' through the backdoor (Whip it up)
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| It was black tops, rockin' the black 4's
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| Now we hoppin' out of drops with the matte doors
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| Nah, that title does not fit you (Nah)
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| The culture is not with you (Uh-uh)
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| Your verses are not scriptures (No)
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| I was a first and fifteenth block clicker (I was)
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| In the spot with the blicker, the plot got thicker (Yes)
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| I only indulged in weed then, not liquor (That's it)
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| Tried to have the best work and finish my rocks quicker (I got it)
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| Prices got cheaper (Yeah), the hill’s all mine (All mine)
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| Now the work that I’m touchin' could get me some real time (Raw)
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| I kicked it with the Lord, he sent me some real signs (Thank you)
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| I started to record, I wrote with some ill rhymes
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| It’s a love and hate thing, I’m dealin' with real lines
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| Now it’s two guns up, so I got the concealed nines
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| They wait for you to die, then they label you a legend
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| I’m debatin' on a new M8 or the X7 (Fire)
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| Figure either one’ll be a good look (Yes)
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| Count my blessings, get my lessons out the Good Book
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| Promise, this ain’t the life you lookin' for (Nope)
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| Searched my car but I don’t know what they lookin' for
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| Secret indictments and I don’t know what they took 'em for (Damn)
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| I seen mommy in the kitchen, she was cookin' raw (Uh-oh)
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| The traphouse with the trap door (Skrrt skrrt)
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| Packed house, now we comin' through the backdoor (Whip it up)
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| It was black tops, rockin' the black 4's
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| Now we hoppin' out of drops with the matte doors
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| Uh-huh, look
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| Fifty pointers in the chain just to hide the pain (Bustdown)
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| Tryna count up all this money probably wreck my brain (Probably will)
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| Free that nigga Nef and free that nigga Mane (Free my niggas)
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| Lose all my niggas to the system, probably go insane (It's Philthy)
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| Real street nigga, worked a few M’s (Sem City Money Man)
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| Rappin' real street shit, dropped a few gems (Ayy, did you catch that?)
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| I know them niggas mad I’m in a new Benz (I know they mad)
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| Fuck it, spend another dime on some new rims (It's Philthy)
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| Niggas from my hood died from niggas from my hood (Swear to God)
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| But everything I learnt came up out the hood (Seminary)
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| I took my niggas with me straight up out the hood (Solid)
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| But they’ll call you fake, you make it out the hood (It's Philthy)
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| Bitches turn sour, nigga turn snake (Is that right?)
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| They shuttin' off the power when the payment late (You know they is)
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| When you broke niggas love you, when you rich they hate (Pussy)
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| They plottin' on your death, tryna set a date, it’s Philthy
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| Promise, this ain’t the life you lookin' for (Nope)
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| Searched my car but I don’t know what they lookin' for
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| Secret indictments and I don’t know what they took 'em for (Damn)
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| I seen mommy in the kitchen, she was cookin' raw (Uh-oh)
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| The traphouse with the trap door (Skrrt skrrt)
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| Packed house, now we comin' through the backdoor (Whip it up)
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| It was black tops, rockin' the black 4's
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| Now we hoppin' out of drops with the matte doors |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Don't Know What They Took Him For , by - Jim Jones. Song from the album El Capo, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп