You Should Know Lyrics - Prhyme - Prhyme

You Should Know 

PRhyme 

Rock, rock, rock on 

Rock, rock, rock on 

I'm going to tell you the truth whether you like it or not 

Can I prove it? 

Yes 

No more days like those 

Allow me to put some sense on you coons 

Too much success, um, here comes your doom 

They told you niggas the sky's the limit 

Then they turn around and tell you that there's footprints on the moon 

You rise to fame and die, so they can say that you barely won 

And they keep your masters, your kids become bastards 

Having to ask executives for their daddy records 

Sounding like Blind Mellow Jelly son 

Look in my eyes, you can tell I'm violent 

I might go diving inside a fine female on the Maldives island 

I vow to never fail my phonics until I'm real iconic 

And you can throw me in a cell, I got it 

I go to jail bout eight, go "oh well" then post bail bout nine-ish 

I treat that bitch like it's a hotel, check in it then check out it 

Then tell my niggas, let the rest doubt it 

These rap niggas bugged out like divas 

They drugged out thugged out receivers 

I meet them at their stash place, heat them 

Then tell them they better drag race the fuck away from me 

Or get their mug shot like Bieber 

I catch him at the bus stop while he reading 

This .45 will give him the same hollow Lux got 

I represent the must haves and whatnots 

Niggas that used to cut class to touch cash and buck shots 

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You should know 

(But you don't really want nothing) 

You should know 

(Talk a bunch of shit, motherfucker stop fronting) 

You should know 

(So what you saying yo? 

Keep playing y'all niggas will burn) 

You should know 

(Fuck the whole world) 

Freedom or jail, clips inserted 

A baby's being born, same time a man is murdered 

The beginning and end 

You on a block playing killer with your knife 

Without a gun you're an option 

Be cut out for the game 

Or they're gon play rock, paper, scissors with your life 

I'm usually more spiritual at night 

Cause murder's in the air more like a Pippen Nike 

Whipping white, the white American kryptonite 

Living a scripted life 

A different picket, different type 

Whoever fixing chicken rice, I'll spend the night 

In the morning go home to my wife 

Before she try and sell my shit 

Ninety nine percent sure that she gon' try and smell my dick 

Thirsty niggas is praying to hell I slip 

The baddest bitches, the last bitches you would've ever imagined 

Would've had chlamydia getting dragged to cities 

City after city niggas paying cash for the love of ass and titties 

Photos 

(Pick it up) 

I don't know why y'all so highly regarded 

You rhyme like you're borderline mildly retarded 

I show you what my father done started 

A rhyme on a god level, the godliest artist 

Y'all follow artists who target their audience 

But not me, I target the artist, follow the target 

Holding a strap, pointing it at sinners 

And that's when I tell them like Kobe to Shaq 

You lazy and I'm tired of your jogging 

Shoot at their feet till the dance start 

I'm going H.A.M. in the slaughterhouse 

Fuck you and your damn charts 

And your crowd participation 

I'm putting a land mine under your stage 

Had his place raining fan parts 

And called that shit crowd precipitation 

I'm more premier than my own DJ and Pac's brother 

I came out of my momma's womb with a box cutter 

Lyrical spitting image that mirrors the birth of Slim 

None of these rappers can work with me, I work with them 

On the vocals 

You have Detroit's own Dwele 

Providing the instruments 

We have 

The incomparable Adrian Younge 

And on the wheels of steel 

DJ Premier 

Yeah 

(I've seen, and I see it again 

I'm not the kind of person who come here and say what you like)