You Know What I`m About (original Version) Lyrics

You Know What I`m About (original Version) lyrics

[Big L]

When I cruise through the ghetto I drive slow

I'm quick to buck a duck and I don't give a fuck about five-oh

A hardcore, life, a chose to tecs therefore

I live raw and went to war with the law

My only picture was a mugshot, slugs for thugs got plot

Hot and swell for selling hops on the drug spot

G's were clocked, fat knots were in the sock

And cops who tried to stop shop got knocked when I popped a glock

She was ran right for me and my man Mike

Cause I choose to use a gun don't mean that I can't fight

Cause we can put the guns down and go one round

With the hands my man, I ain't the one to get done, clown

I can adverse my style, cause I'm versatile

Quick to burst a child, I'm living worse than foul

I pack two tecs in case your crew flex

I wet up the set in a second and yell "Who's next?"

To feel the wrath of a psychopath, shoots it up like Shaft

Turn your staff into a bloodbath then laugh

You'll get smashed like a deli snack, you're softer than Jel & Jack

I attack in black with a gat and a skully hat

On 139 street, Malcom X Boulevard

It's full of hard brothers that's thick and quick to pull a card

I tell effects when a beef start

Listen here sweetheart, the Big L is street smart

I fucked up send they crews up, make 'em get a juice up

For those who refuse, I squeeze the uz and light them fools up

I had beef with this nigga named Randolph

Now he's in a casket, dressed up with his hands crossed

A beatdown from L, that's what all pranksters get

Like I'll gank a vic, I'm on some real gangster shit

I'm never fucking with no handicapped or cripple bitches

Look at my style real close and you'll see triple 6's

Crimes I committed, I'm a villian, admit it

I'm the type to murder you and tell your moms I'm the kid who did it

Peace and love is something that I don't rhyme about

Fuck what you heard, you know what I'm about



	Knocking niggas off, knocking niggas out

	Knocking niggas off, knocking niggas out

	Knocking niggas off, knocking niggas out

	Knocking niggas off, you know what I'm about (Repeat 2x)



[Lord Finesse]

It's the man with the plush flow

Some niggas don't like me, but I don't give a fuck, though

Cause I'm in command y'all

I'm smacking niggas up like Puerto Ricans play handball

I ain't the funny type

To joke around, I gotta get my motherfucking money right

Cause I got the right game

Definitely the wrong man to invite to a dice game

I'm rolling numbers with no practice

I'm snatching up dough like the motherfuckers owe taxes

Cause I got strategy

I'm rolling headcrack trips and making all the brothers mad at me

Word, I'm taxing shit

I'm shitting on niggas like I just had a laxitive

Trying to earn props? I ain't the one to see

You clowns'll fuck around and get played like the drum machine

You gotta find a better way

I'll pull your card, your file, shit, plus your resume

Cause I don't play, clown

I gotta get mine, that's why my face stay frown

I don't smile, don't try to pull my file

I lay your ass like towel, you know my motherfucking style

So just slow down cause y'all can't throw down

Y'all can't accept that a nigga's making dough now

And I'm living better, troop

And I'm making more noise than a fucking heavy metal group

I'm a cool man, a brother with a smooth plan

That's why I'm seeing more papers than a news stand

So peep it, don't try to run around or speak it

Point blank, I keep my whereabouts secret

While niggas are packing steel, acting ill

I'm on the DL with a female and I'm stacking bills

How I'm living? Everything is well

Cause a nigga like me, well I'm ringing bells

Without doubt I got clout

Yo fuck that shit, yo you know what I'm about



	Knocking niggas off, knocking niggas out

	Knocking niggas off, knocking niggas out

	Knocking niggas off, knocking niggas out

	Knocking niggas off, you know what I'm about (Repeat 2x)



[Big L]

Word, you definite know what I'm about

Go get your steel and guard you grill, you bitch-ass niggas

I ain't having it for '92, niggas, word 'em up