Big Tymers - Nigga Couldn'T Know lyrics

rate me

Big Tymers, nigga (Big Tymers, nigga)

I got that work, nigga (I got that work, nigga)

Look, look, listen:

This is where them niggas die fast

Sell bricks and buy bags

They dodge class to hit the block and go find cash

If you try to pass - take my advice: drive fast

'Cause, my man, ain't no escapin' when shots blast

You wonder why the cops keep circlin'

Niggas murderin'

I ain't never saw 'em before

Tonight we twurkin' 'em

Niggas wearin' masks like glasses

Niggas got on tank tops and a pair of Reebok classics

Pants to my knees 'cause the glock make it slouch

I can't talk right now - I got three rocks in my mouth

And, wodie, when we enter-- niggas freeze up like it's winter

And if a nigga whisper, pistols eat him up for dinner

Seventeen representer - you don't like it, do somethin'

And I'll bet you'll see a nigga outside 'bout two-somethin'

And we like to dress in all black up in my residence

Ain't got on no suits 'cause we ain't tryin' to be presidents

Make 'em get on the floor

Nigga wakin' up to alley cats and rats

Project bitches that tote gats

Niggas kickin' the dope, but the crack done smack back

Lil' niggas runnin' through the hallways

While other niggas playin' ball - made a court in the driveway

Things ain't the same where I use to play

It's guns and broads

New cars, neighborhood superstars

And hoes smokin' cigars

Lil' ones sittin' on the car

Watchin' the bus hollerin',

"Them people comin!" when that blue car pull up

I'm tired of catchin' cuts, and bendin' corners

I got that work - got youngsters on all four corners

You got the quarters, and you got them halves

I got the quarter ki's, and Fresh got the slabs

Ten a ki is the price if you want a brick

And if you don't know that, nigga - tax the bitch

Make 'em get on the floor

It's the return of the click-clackin'

Downtown pistol packin'

Y'all remember me from back in the '89 era

When killers use to wear mascara

And run through the court causin' terror

Random riot gunshots

Government-issued glocks

That's bakin' soda added with that odor - now you got clatch pots

Niggas went from (?) to frozen cups

To catchin' cuts, to big ole nuts

Shorty, I been on missions

Jackin' niggas for Balley competitions

Stickin' guns in bustas' backs

Everybody, come out your Polos and your Zodiacs

But that was back in the days

See, niggas done changed they ways

Went from snug-nose-38's to hand grenades

Now it's a must that niggas bust back when they get cussed at

Or fussed at

Nine-millimeters, glocks, pumps, riot guns, niggas can trust that

Make 'em get on the floor

Y'all got to understand

We got this shit on lock, wodie

If you ain't makin' money you ain't doin' what you suppose to

I understand niggas kickin' in doors for twenty-inch momo's

Whatever it take, lil' daddy

And it don't matter

If I get caught up in a struggle, I got to take mines

If you get caught up, you better believe it..

that that iron gon' get your mind right, dog

We hustlin' for sure, fa

Bling-blingin' without a doubt

Like new cars, and pretty broads

And neighborhood superstars

Money

Bitches

Rags to riches