Lyrics I Know You Strapped - Lil Wyte

I Know You Strapped

Know what I’m sayin
This mothafucking song dedicated
To them weak ass bitches that follow me in the club
On that weed, that white, that liquor, the whole xanax bars
That X whatever the fuck they on
You know what I’m sayin?
They think cause they drunk and they crunk
And they got a unit in the trunk that they just some hard mothafuckers
You know what I’m sayin?
But really they’s the weak bitches
You know what I’m sayin?
You fall up in V.I.P.
(HCP) thats the real killas sittin in the back
Waitin on yo mothafuckin ass, you know what I’m sayin?
Bitch
Smoke a blunt, get drunk, hit a line of that funk
Now you fallin up in the spot and you thinkin that you crunk
You ain’t crunk, yous a punk, and I’mma show you that tonight
All it takes is one killer to step and we can start a fight
In the middle of the club, bitch wasup we can do this shit
Security ain’t gonna jump in the way because they scared of this
Implantin this into ya brain so you know the next time you cross the line
Again it’s standin full of sin when you fuck wit the boss
Biggest, badest, roughest motha fucker, but ya still a bitch
I’m comin in crunker than the others for the fuck of it
Liquor bottles hit ya harder than some syrup when ya slum
Have ya shakin, fakin, body achin by the time I’m done
Legally this isn’t right but ask me if I give a shit
Peacefully I’ll read your rights and have you beggin me to quit
Hit ya weed and liquor or whatever else it takes to jump
Just remember, just cause you fucked up it doesn’t mean your crunk
I know you strapped, but you cowards like to play hard
And knowin that you don’t wanna catch a murder charge
See butsters like to get full of that weed and liquor snort a line
In ya mind now yous a killer
Damn man goddamn paul man you might have to slow this motha fucker down a
Little bit man I’m on that syrup man I’m high and I’m drunk man you need to
slow down
I’m not scared of you just cause you came in actin a damn fool
Runnin lip talkin shit, bet you wouldn’t without ya tool
Now ya hard very hard ballin down the boulevard, pissy pants doin ya dance
I’m behind ya in a faster car, weak as water so is yo mama, father and ya
Faculty, quickly solder up yo lips so you can’t trip or speak of me
Watch me creep up from the back wit gats and pick you off by ones
Had to repaint the walls wit ya while ya smokin on ya blunt
Hate to be the one to show you that drugs kill and that’s a fact
But I love that I am the one who put the bullet in your back
Next time when you step to the plate come back and just let it rip
Stead of bitchin out I thought you crunk, you ran back to ya whip
Holy ghost is up in ya when you see me you fade away
Makin fun of all you cowards powered by a pack of bay
Hopefully one day you’ll find out in the end you just a bitch
Until then just keep on drinkin smokin snortin up some shit
— repeat to fade