Knowledge Of Self Lyrics - Singles - Us 3

Monkey see monkey do follow this when I cue you 

The mic is my wine it helps me cast my voodoo spell 

Hell 'cos I'm f-u-n-k-y 

Suckers try to flex I say why oh why 

'Cos I don't bother nobody, I chill and hardly party 

Now and then I might go out, puff a blunt and sip bacardi 

But if not I'm in my room pumpin' tunes 

Waitin' for the payday, it's coming soon 

Brooklyn is my home, better yet my war zone 

Why did I say that? 'Cos it's a mutherfuckin' fact 

Kids around the way know what's up, they can't front 

Kids are getting' smoked up like blunts 

All over nonsense brothers die constant 

I'm looking for an answer, I can't find it 

I think we need a little help, word 

Brothers gotta find knowledge of self 

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I got mad knowledge of self 

You gotta get with knowledge of self 

Righteous I live, give props to my mom 

Pops raised me like a oner never settled for smaller 

I am a prince in this land, not 'cos I have a grand 

Got knowledge in my dome 

In command of my life, never ever live trife 

Thanks to my man fifty grand money Spike 

Now I'm on my road to riches and bitches 

The world of fake hugs and fake ass kisses 

Girlies wanna get with me, is it for me or because I MC? 

I don't give a damn anyway, hey, skins are skins I stick 'em any 

day 

But anyway enough about that 

I think it's about time for drip to rip the rap 

Let me pause for the cause 'cos the chorus comes first 

And with the quickness the verse will disperse, like that 

Photos 

I got mad knowledge of self 

You gotta get with knowledge of self 

Some brothers think they're it when they really ain't shit 

Talkin' 'bout their new car and that their pockets are thick 

But c'mon, you don't have a job, I know you're frontin' hard 

Borrowed the ride from mom 

What's the reason for the teasin', who the hell ya think ya 

pleasin'? 

You lack self-esteem so you try to front and cream 

But that ain't workin' 'cos I'm smirkin' thinkin' how you're 

such a fool 

I keep a stern face as you're fakin' moves 

"I'm this I'm that I'm hip I'm phat" 

Know what you are? Wick wick wack! 

A brother with no colour 'cos all I see is grey 

If you knew who you were this road you would not play 

Around the way I must stay with my people 

Chill at some clubs, though that was lethal 

Now I got my mental health, word 

I got mad knowledge of self