You Don’t Hear Me Doe lyrics

[Intro: Scarface & DMG]
Yo D
Sup face?
What should these motherf*ckers call you?

[Verse 1: DMG & Scarface]
Call me psychotic but I'm bad, n*gga yo!
And I'ma do ya bad, black
And when I come, I'm bustin up n*ggas that held me back
Ya should of never let a n*gga see
That there was n*ggas and b*tches and b*tches and n*ggas that hated me
Huh, I waited for my day to come-of-age
And now that I'm of-age I can't escape the f*ckin' front page
So I guess that n*gga D is up to hit again
I kicks that funky sh*t and cold get stupid like I'm Gilligan
Now peep, suppose I hit a lick for a jack
The only thing I gained is the pain of n*ggas comin back
n*gga lookin for they sh*t, aggravated and p*ssed (Why?)
'Cause they can't f*ck with my clique (Tell 'em)
I'm here to break 'em off a chunk
A D-E-A-T-H-B-Y, a motherf*ckin punk
And I'll be rollin' with the Brad-ster (He-he-he)
So if you see us in yo' hoodie
Break your neck to roll on past, n*gga
Don't even stop to say 'Whattup?', 'cause I bust for the f*ck
And plus I'm quick to light a motherf*cker up (Up)
Next time you spot me on your block, I hope you leave the place
Or be the next to meet the Lord face-to-face
n*gga, I ain't the one to take no bullsh*t
'Cause see a n*gga like the D is game to empty out the full clip
So when I come for ya, act like ya know
Sendin' motherf*ckas smooth to the curb but you don't hear me though
[Chorus: DMG]
I'ma bring it to ya as*h*le (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Bustin' on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me though
(But you don't hear me though)
Bring it to ya as*h*le (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Bustin' on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me though

[Verse 2: DMG]
It's time to f*ck 'em up, here it comes, blast, n*gga
Thump to your chest and they comin' out yo' ass, n*gga
I grew up hard, livin' my life as a criminal
n*ggas G to kill but still I see that you don't hear me though
So I'ma serve it to ya fat, hit the deck, mate
Hit the deck mate, call me Flipper when I checkmate
D-M-G runnin' nine-tre, nine-fo' Glock, Glock
My Glock makin sounds and it don't stop
So n*gga pass the Swisher quick
And I'ma blaze 'til the motherf*cker burn me on my fingertips
'Cause, see a n*gga gotta stay high
I try to smoke 'til I can't smoke and then I won't smoke
But still I got my fingers on my sh*t
And click, click, click, ya die, die, die, ya dead, b*tch!
You tried to test the wrong n*gga, bein' tested
Straight from St. Paul but clockin' G's down in Texas
Some think I'm soft cause I play it cool
But I ain't the average motherf*cker, I do the sh*t that n*ggas won't do
Huh, like pistol whoop a woodie for his bank
Then after that I go and grab his b*tch and do the same thang
And now I'm paid up the as*h*le
Collectin' grips on my drips as I stroll but you don't hear me though
[Chorus: DMG]
I'ma bring it to ya as*h*le (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Bustin' on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me though
(But you don't hear me though)
Bring it to ya as*h*le (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Bustin' on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me though

[Verse 3: DMG]
Ain't no mistakin' what I'm bringin', you motherf*ckers still ain't had enough
So I'ma continue to break you off for a proper ass chunk
May it be a nine, may it be a gauge, may it be a shank
Any way you come I'm in your motherf*ckin' sh*t, mate!
Huh, a n*gga bustin' caps, smokin' [?]
Quick to break it to yo' ass and keep on goin 'til yo' ass die
And ain't no runnin' down dem backstreets
'Cause I got slugs to catch up with Carl Lewis on the track meet
Huh, and still you wanna test a n*gga so
Outie 5, n*gga, hate to see ya go but you don't hear me though

[Chorus: DMG]
I'ma bring it to ya as*h*le (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Bustin' on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me though
(But you don't hear me though)
Bring it to ya as*h*le (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Bustin' on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me though
[Outro: DMG]
Yeah, check it!