Testo You Know - Boldy James
Testo della canzone You Know (Boldy James), tratta dall'album My 1st Chemistry Set
Alan the Chemist
Concreatures
Boldy Bricks, yeah
When them birds flying high in the sky
You know how I'm feelin' already
And I don't wanna kick it cause ya'll niggas petty
And if that's ballin' I'm in L.A. with Jefe
On that Mac Mall shit cause I'm all about my fetti
Yes yes, UPS'll send 'em next day
Overnight, Fed Ex, express, ese
Never been a coward or a pussy in these streets
And I put that on a G like a thousand word essay
Bricks on consignment, dirty dishes in the sink
Finna cook another ki with this chopper and this SK
Pistol whippin, I do the fool in the kitchen
When I'm spinnin, and I only rock the Trues with the thick stitches
I ain't the man but I damn sure know him
Got a fin fulla bands and my hand finna blow it
Like I grow it, if you gettin' money then show it
I talk it cause I live it, but you already know it
It's Concreatures
I'm on my throwback
Bo Jack but you already know that
And it's a known fact
That I sold crack and all my niggas don't rap
We get the load back
Them bolds and? we got them bitches on deck
They got my phone tapped
I ain't goin' back, tell them bitches get the bozack
Niggas know that they better run that dough back
'Fore we hit your door with the calicos, no on smack
We smack niggas for fat living and dog
Check the shit out of bitch ass niggas tell 'em to fall back
We get points on the pack, and hit y'all wit' the sacks
And shake no weight, I'm sellin' all packs
I got the Master P hook up, recipe to cook up
In the middle of spring I bring fall back
For my dogs in them Bronco colors
Blue and orange on the yard doin' football numbers
I jumped off the porch and I took off runnin'
Had a long run, it's been a long time comin'
When chances were slim to none I was the skinniest one but kept the biggest gun
In the hood I'm a boss cause I get it done
My niggas empty drums, pull up and pull off now that's a hit and run
Cause old habits, it's hard for me to break those
We weigh packages whole, shake rattle and roll
I'm talkin' crate loads
Easy passin' through tolls, breakin' the border
Meetin' quotas, drinkin' glasses of rose
And Moet for Moses, diamonds in my gold link
Glowin' piece, goin' when I'm strikin' a pose
We finally famous but this the life that we chose
Gold wire, C frames with the ice on my nose
Credits
Writer(s): Curtis Jackson, Marvin Coady
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