| Yeah come on chumps, y’all ain’t girl
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| We pretty, we hit hard, we takin' over the world!
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| Reminiesce, we takin' you back to your school days
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| Hand us the mic and we flip it fifty million ways
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| «They don’t know»
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| Sloppy with your flows, you bore me at your shows
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| Whack clothes and pitiful karaoke demos
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| «They don’t know»
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| Aight, you caught me stalkin', studios and stages
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| Chasin' the outrageous
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| Ecstatic sensations, I’m tragic trapped inside the pages
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| Of melodramtic rages to dark to mention
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| Over the fact most of these cats lack comprehension
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| In other words: They Don’t Know
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| I see 'em cringin' when Spooks mediate
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| To penetrate the next dimension
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| Ming rhymin' and singin' it, Spooks climbin' and bringin' it
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| This black light’ll swallow your shine from diamond ringin' it
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| How many times must I remind? | 
| The Spooks is killin' shit
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| We on some thrillin' shit, nothin' but hits on my disc
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| And I am witness to this, lyrical fitness and rip
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| You still don’t know, so you’ll be frantic as we hijack the planet
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| They Don’t Know
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| We expose flows like no clothes and blow
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| Chest full a holes with (???)
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| I spit stormshadow and tomes that’s reminiscent of monks
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| Blowin' up lungs with C4 laced in bones
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| You mentally tour my rhyme book is covered in thorns
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| «Some givin' a fuck» Some fuckin' hip hop like porn
 | 
| Booka-T testin' mc, a dumb mc, I said who’s the best mc
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| You said «Young MC»
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| Let me guess, you started rockin' hip hop in '88
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| «Naw naw man, it was like, it was like 19-» Nigga too late!
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| I’m smackin' up cats to back slap crack in my hand
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| Bitch blood bouncin' off of your dome and splatter your van
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| Remineisce, we takin' you back to your school days
 | 
| Hand us the mic and we flip it fifty million ways
 | 
| «They don’t know»
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| Open up your mind and you’ll find The Spooks in it
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| Experimentally sick, pusin' the limits
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| «They don’t know» (They don’t know!)
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| (sung)
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| Shoppin' for a deal with persistance
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| Initially label heads were like «What is this?»
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| It won’t get y’all from original to different
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| Conceptual hip hop will be resistant
 | 
| The pendulum will swing back again
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| Pass accept, now follow the trend
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| Hard to believe, but easy to pretend
 | 
| Revolution (Revolution!) is why we began
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| They don’t know (They don’t know)
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| Too many soft niggas stress, try your best to same some hip shit
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| Get caught up in these lyrics with me, you get your wig split
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| You tired of me? | 
| Try me, can’t even stand beside me
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| I be havin' people you study big up and high five me
 | 
| Forty million one thousand nine hundred and sixty two
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| I’m irresistable, unpredictable and so is my crew
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| Never accidental, everything I do is intentional
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| Joe Davis, premeditated, creative and unconventional
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| A lot of truth seekers are people peepin' for secrets
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| Some assembly tryin' to find my Safe House
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| And I got beef with everyone of you wannabe’s
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| Tryin' to infiltrate my company
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| You swear you know the business but actually you don’t know nothin'
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| Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah (Who dat?!)
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| It’s the killer, ha ha ha (What?!)
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| Niggas don’t hate me cause I’m fly (Come on!)
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| I’m the one bankin' on driveby’s (Yeah!)
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| I keep pleasure packed in my clever raps
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| Once I sever the track, I’ma live inside a cheddar stack
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| I don’t stutter once my tome shudder
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| And I become the bone crusher, I scream on my own mother
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| What a pimp, I roll with the gangsta limp
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| In the cut, drinkin' wine, eatin' shrimp
 | 
| Yeah come on chump, y’all ain’t girl
 | 
| We pretty, we hit hard, we takin' over the world!
 | 
| Remineisce, we takin' you back to your school days
 | 
| Hand us the mic and we flip it fifty million ways
 | 
| «They don’t know»
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| We can see us niggas, my crew is causin' you fear
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| Spooks takin' it there, industry ain’t prepared
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| «They don’t know» |