You Don't Know (Freestyle)

Yo, yo, yo, yo (You don’t know) Diabolic (What you’re doing) Uh-huh, Foul Play I’ve been dodging the law and the long arm of it Coppin’ the raw, holding weight like a strong argument I settle scores by knocking on Heaven’s door Since I contemplated sky-diving off the seventh floor I stay true, that’s word to our blessed Lord ‘Cause this sign is something I would accept death before Blessed metaphors since Em had Grim to go jogging But the nicer you are, the more they leave you no option So I murder breaks and loops on stage for proof Then I raise the roof like convertible racing coupes I love to battle, but it’s dead I hate the truth What happened to cats like Supernat, Face, and Juice? Rap ain’t half as hot, the classics stopped Matter of fact, I ain’t heard a classic since Illmatic dropped Everything’s blasting shots, cash and rocks Ass and twat, everyone hustles, no one spends cash to cop So yo, I can admit it, I used to move haze for cheap But now I just blaze, like a made this beat I play for keeps, folks getting hand to hand money Keeping the heat close like I’m Stan Van Gundy Fans can’t love me, I am the most hated Like Bolic’s nice as fuck, but fuck him, he won’t make it I’m at shows wasted, and taking more shots Than them four cops who popped Diallo on that Bronx block Trigger-pulling cop popping his weapon Could go from on top to Comstock in split seconds I’ve been reppin’, chin checking your jaw fast ‘Til you look like Kanye West after the car crash That’s the forecast, so I guess I see why These haters are tight like camel tails Levis I spit this heat live, won’t stop ’till the beat’s done Or at least ’til I disturb the peace and police come MC’s front like Bolic’s shit ain’t poppin’ son But it’s been a fact since the hidden track on Vol. 1 Diabolic got these faggots peeing a puddle When I’m on they front porch with gasoline and a shovel Fiending for trouble, ’cause I’ll be dead by age 30 In an early grave, nah, I’ll put you in a grave early I stay dirty, stressed bottled up like Avion So I’m stomping cats out, picturing my baby moms What’s this lady want, in a pink and black sandals Driving me to drink, so I’m driving drinking Jack Daniels I’m the guy, ride or die, driver side leaning High beaming people while they driving by screaming I reply to demons, hearing voices in my head They tell me shit like feed some rat poison to a fed Most cats would be scared, but I’m enjoying them instead When someone’s suicide ’bout to jump, I join ‘em on the ledge I’m close to the edge, stubborn and missing screws My imaginary friend’s the only one I listen to I see the bitch in you, and I sense the hoe’s anger So I’ma go shank ya and pull out with a coat hanger It ain’t hard to tell these fellas sense I’m real When I laugh at major labels and develop mental deals I feel forced to kill, when I ain’t getting this wealth They force my had, like my brother saying stop hitting yourself Got y’all shitting yourselves, scared to face us Y’all some inflatable sex dolls, a bunch of fake fucks So fall back off my ballsack, ’cause y’all wack You ain’t about shit, all you ever do is talk crap I four track my mixtape, now all I need to get papes Nine bullet wounds, steroids, and to lift weights So everytime you think you know me or who I roll with Just keep in mind we foul play and you don’t know shit