Lyrics They Can't See Me - Raider Klan, Rell, Key Nyata

They Can't See Me

Yeah
2.7.5 in this bitch
Shout-out to my big bro
Spaceghost-mothafuckin'-purrp on the beat
Nigga
I wake up in the morning roll a blunt then face it
Thank the lord, then a young nigga get to the paper
In this life of sin, I don’t see no hater
Its the life I live
And ya’ll nigga’s is faking
Not even adjacent
I ain’t never complacent
I won’t ever be basic
My mind be racing
I ain’t ever gone catch it
Throw up your hood nigga rep it
Tell a fuck nigga get to stepping
My cuz got the weapon, you can get wetted
Feet to your helmet
I ain’t gotta ailment
Feel me like braille bitch
On my grind like I tail slid
Put a Xan in my drink, and I melt it
Ya’ll know I don’t fuck with a fake bitch
Flow tighter than a face lift
She get wet when the bass hit
I’m a legend in the making, nigga
Lock up the safe when I bounce
Nigga don’t ever miscount so tell me the amount
You ever played in snow in the south?
Them bodies gon' drop in the summer
Ain’t no word of mouth
Ain’t no snitching
No witness to vision the killin'
Diminish the talent
We keeping 'em balanced
Who feeling the lethal
I’m bringing some savage
Accepting your challenge
Why do they think they is competing with gossip?
The century
Switch the delivery
Money ain’t a sin
But the testament should consider
The haters gon' just pretend to be
Players around the industry
Pawn in game of chess
I’ma move like the king and queen
Nigga better believe in me
Smoking the sticky leaf
Indica or Sativa, it don’t matter at all to me
Riding to slow to peep how the devil who lurking, he, never gon' stop thug
I blow off in nigga’s thing
Pop open a Corona
I burn a O where I wanna
I blow the smoke right in your face, and bet he don’t start a problem
I know they don’t want the drama
The farm, and we got them llama’s
Trigger release the 40
The sound of the blocka-blocka
Why must he have a chopper?
Because he-be the top shooter
Baggin' and taggin'
And flop a nigga who oughta get popped
Federals wanna stop him
Stressing the wrong problem
Stacking and racking the chips
A bando, may have to get popped
And they can’t see me
Naw
Man I swear to fucking god
Ya’ll nigga’s can’t see me, dog
This shit don’t stop
Man, we grind till the sun peak, lord
Getting money is the motive
Getting money is the motive
Getting money is the motive
Going in like an inmate
So many blunts that I intake
A young nigga can’t stand straight
But I’m focused
Underground like a locust
Make a bad bitch run it, track coaching
This world is hopeless, so I’m rolling up dope bitch
View the world through my scope, and, you’ll go crazy
Satan has lately been trying to take me
But I’ll never fall
Been through it all
I’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for god
I’d probably be on the block, pushing that hard
My dick in your broad, she in love with a god
I seen it all
Yes, I seen it all
Money on my line
So I pick up the call
(Bitch, Bitch)
Money on my line
So I pick up the call
Peripheral niggas peeping
Why is your homie hating?
I sit in the cut and peep how the game is just taken forsaken
Real niggas in the making be baking like Walter Payton
Got his bitch on my team
And you know that that ass is shaking
So fuck 'em and never rape 'em
He dancing like Channing Tatum
He screaming I got to tape 'em
Questions I relay 'em
This nigga know where the paper
You know that I have to chase 'em
And run 'em on down to his ho
Just at his location
We finna make it
900 watts in this Chandelier, so I replace it
Beat him like Emmett Till, so expect retaliation
Hitting another gear on a nigga that is hating
The motive is the greatest
My nigga’s got the payments
Hitting the switch in the whip, that bitch gon' get to shaking
These nigga’s can’t see me, cause I don’t answer to the faking
Fucking the game, you can see the dollars that I’m raping
So watch a nigga make it, make it