U Don't Know - Remix

You gotta let this one breathe, just

Just let it breathe for a sec

Yup, Hovi's home

Newest edition to the ROC

M.O.P.

The Blueprint 2 is on its way

I know ya hear my footsteps out there, comin'

Let's go get 'em just

Time to duck, fire

Duck, fire, duck, fire

Duck, fire, duck, fire

It's the M.O.P. and the dip code is 1, 1, 2, 3, 3

And motherfucker we comin, 100 miles and gunnin

I'm still runnin' with cash that's robbed

From the era of exhale 80's and hats back stomp

Same game, operation for this industry lockdown

We still tote hammers that go blockow

Run up if you wanna, believe me dog

These hammers with they owners, fuck ya G up

Have ya with blue 'jamas in a coma, and

Ya family now moan, look, 70 pounds gone

A little fuck, scribbled up with a hospital down on

We holdin' it down homes keep pushin' weak frail bastards

To get over, we prowl with slimmer re-shelled tactics

Jiminy frail bastards, your tracks need tune-ups

No limit, what the fuck, recordin' for nig' junior

The game aint changed, it just got harder

Plus we sponsored by laz' Dame Dash and Mr. S. Carter

Brownsville, we stomp in this bitch all day

Rock with my cock out, face the crowd and piss off stage

I'm from the G side of thangs

Where we ride and bang, where the heat died of flame

That's how we got the name Warriors and better than ya bank

And someone should be tellin 'em the veterans have came

And we're better in the game, you better make it rain, 27 grams

My, man it's better than cocaine, now everything will change

In this family we'll rule the world

And you haters can eat a dick up till you hiccup

And I'm a decade on the grind, nigga I paid mine

So it's my time to shine and for you can ride the pine

I wont sit back and rap like these dumb ass kids

I been around, I put it down, I ain't these young ass kids

M.O.P. the OG's repped and survived around this motherfucka

First family, we kept it live around this motherucka

When it's crunch time, we do it our wizzay

For shizzle my nigga, learn to grip pistols and BK

Turn my music high, high, high, higher

Mo' fire, mo' problems, more Roc-a-wear attire

Mo' money, mo' murder now that M.O.P.'s hired

Mo' murder for the ROC empire, ya'll won't surface

Ya'll nervous knowin them guns on full service, ready to fire

One body, two body, three body, four

Young sittin' on paper, I'm above the law

Young shittin' on haters, I ain't fuckin' with ya'll

For my Brownsville neighbors

How about some hardcore?

And it just get worser, every time I write my signature in cursive

Just add another million to theses

One million, two million, three million, four

And the money's really worthless, I'm pissing you off on purpose

My nephew's situated, and my mama's straight

So I'm ready for whatever drama should come our way

And you niggas rappin' to me, so your drama is fake

You dudes is noodles, I got more ziti to bake

You dudes is cake, I keep twocuits on the waist

Razorblades under the tongue, I will eat ya face

Appetite for destruction, I am starvin' today

Got a money hungry lawyer that'll eat the case

And thats just food for thought, don't let it go to waste

Nigga, bite the bullet until you stuffin' ya face

I done forgot more than you ever learned

What you don't know will make your home a permanent urn, nigga

Do you believe in me?

Oh no

You don't know what you're doing, doing

Do you believe in me?

Oh no

You don't know what you're doing, doing

Do you believe in me?