Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Can't U Tell, artist - Lil' Flip. Date of issue: 18.12.2006
Song language: English
Can't U Tell |
| I tell them niggas man — can’t you tell a nigga doin good man |
| Can’t you tell, Lil' Flip is in the building |
| We got Dj Squeeky on the track… Gudda, Gudda — Clover G’s |
| We throw bows, we blow dro |
| We ride blades and low pro’s |
| Umm… I heard you doin good |
| Nigga can’t you tell |
| Oh you still in the hood, cause you ain’t doin too well |
| Now when I pull up in my drop, one switch make it rock |
| One switch make it hop, the other switch make it stop |
| I got wood grain on my dash, paper out the ass |
| I don’t ride around with wallets I carry paper bags |
| Ride around with tech’s, endo, with a vest |
| Giovanni’s on my Hummer, and spinners on my Lex |
| I rep Houston, Tex where niggas bang Screw |
| We ride candy paint nigga what about yo' crew |
| Got a piece and a chain, a watch and a ring |
| Ten thousand square foot home, plus a spot for my plane |
| I spitt game to hoes to get 'em out they clothes |
| Cause that’s how it go when all ya jewelry froze |
| I been pimpin for awhile, I’m a hot boy like Nile |
| My jacket is mink — but my shoes are crocodile |
| I’m thuggin forever, fifty karats in my bezzel |
| But I’m like 'Trillville' cause y’all can’t get on «my level» |
| Uhhh I’m in the club buckin, fuck it I’m a throw some bows |
| Hit the bar and get bent and go and fuck some hoes |
| I’m this bitch actin wild you know how Gudda do it |
| I got my pistol on my hip incase I get into it |
| Niggas drinkin that 'Incredible Hulk' |
| Now he drunk and he think he the «Incredible Hulk» |
| Uhhh they gon’have to drag him out this bitch |
| Then the police gon’come and drag me out this bitch… (yea, Gudda) |
| I’m doin good and it feels great |
| I’m in the hood H2 and it’s charcoal gray |
| Supa dup’fly, boy I’m supa dup’frisby |
| Give a fuck about the name just know he gets busy |
| Mouth of the south you know ya know me well |
| Hollow shells — swell you like a macaroni shell |
| Fuck you haters, the chains is off |
| Clover chains is on… we off the chains lil’boy (yea) |
| Uh, yea, come on… |
| MJG, pimp tight and Lil' Flip got a hit on the chart |
| But if a girl wanna get on the chart, shit I’ll still put a bitch on the block |
| You don’t really want that really now tell the truth, slow ya role |
| You got the cars and clothes but you still don’t know ya hoes |
| I’m a Hoe — ologist I dissect the bitch and find the problem |
| I got solutions for a problem I’m here to resolve 'em |
| Pull up in a 1969 Impala whites over blacks they harder |
| Everyday I wake up early tryna make a dollar, I think I wanna pop my collar |
| Could it be I’m just a natural born with alittle dose of pimpin |
| Oooh nothin but motionless women strap up put alittle life up in 'em |
| I don’t pretend I mean exactly what I mean |
| I don’t sell those you can go to sleep and have a dream |
| When I roll through the dirty south sittin up on my twenty — fo’s |
| Breakin me a ciggerillo down… fillin it up with nothin but dro |
| M — J — fuckin G representer of the dirty |
| But I spit it hard enough to make sure that the world heard me |