Girl You Know Lyrics - The Lost Masters - Kool Keith

You know the outcome 

Girl, you know the game and when you start to run 

Who is this new guy? Thinkin' he's funky 

He ain't nothin', girl, you know 

Rappers who freestyle forever 

Can't afford to buy a cup of cocoa, admire my leather 

Your girl get wetter, touchin' my custom made chains 

Your lip gloss on my Italian sweater 

I know you hate me already, go debate me with Freddie 

DJ's gonna act like little feminine in more places 

Bought the high heels, on the hard concrete 

Remove your women's bra, feel chest 

Related 

Can You Guess The Song By The Emojis? 

The 5 Most Memorable Moments From The 2017 VMAs 

Listen To Every Song Of The Summer Since 1958 In Our Ultimate Mega-Mix 

Wipe your eyeliners off your baseball cap 

The Starter jacket don't match yo' faces 

You put the thongs on, move your panty protectors in the right places 

Terror in America, feel my drama, defecate on your baby's momma 

I sport the real gators, Lou Casey and Tony Llama 

Y'all act like divas with a flat ass like Madonna 

Party whereabouts, don't ask me 

Hold your Zippendales, this ain't Chippendales 

Y'all Flippendales, move slow like snails 

Thongs show your girl's tails, y'all blaze L's 

Girl you know, the man ain't funky 

But the brother is whack yo 

What you tell your man, girl? 

Remington blows with shells 

Big Hank movin' dank comin' up the road with a full tank 

Make your girl buy another drink 

Joe Grieco, we break neck-o, hand your wife the peppermints 

Who represents y'all can't close to me one inch 

Photos 

Y'all need to sit down on the wood like Johnny Bench 

Y'all know the Borden family, your fiance drive a Camry 

Your hype man name is Annie 

Your producer in the background wear the black panties 

No time for the clean up service or nannies 

Girl you know, the man ain't funky 

But the brother is whack yo 

What you tell your man, girl? 

Feeble position wackster, what's up blackster 

Lyrical master, asshole plaster 

You a known hitter, with the first base glove 

Your mom with the catcher's mitter 

Pamper for your babysitter 

Foul smells, your house smell like cat litter 

Don't get bitter, I move and get rid of 

Can't flow average, maverage 

Rabid food, vegetable particles, final cabbage 

You got the nerve to rap like you live in Paris 

Standard reels, I clown dummies 

When your first advance is in your deal 

Stage level, stiff with no skills 

A bird with beak and bills 

I crush you from New York 

All the way out to Hollywood Hills 

Girl you know, the man ain't funky 

But the brother is whack yo 

What you tell your man, girl? 

Kool Keith, whatever, like rappers say 

Like Big Daddy Kane say rappers steppin' to me 

They wanna get some, you know the outcome 

You wanna get some, you know the outcome