He Don’t Know lyrics

[Chorus]
f*ck n*gga wanna mug
He don't know I got the .40 in the club
He don't know I got my shorties in the cut
Crunchin sh*t goin' very nuts
Pull up, hop out, shootin' sh*t, bring cops out
He don't know we got Glocks on us, he think we gon' knock him out
He said that he want war but he don't know
Can't tell that little boy what he don't know

[Verse 1]
It's me and Dirty Thirty, bullets fly, like little birdy birdy
The only pimps I know is Mac and Dirty Thirty
With a Tec, told a 50 you can't have Larry Birdy
Yeah they say money, power, respect
But b*tch its money, power, the Tec
Point at your block and won't even have any regret
You f*ck n*ggas be knowing how we get
So don't get screwed, I got some n*ggas with a bunch of tools
They come through screwin' sh*t like [moppers do]
Like don't be talkin' what my choppa do
Turn your block to Lil B b*tch, Wonton Soup, pull off in my Lady Gaga coupe
I got Hannah, Lady Gaga too, lotta bullets fly, that's what I do

[Chorus]
f*ck n*gga wanna mug
He don't know I got the .40 in the club
He don't know I got my shorties in the cut
Crunchin sh*t goin' very nuts
Pull up, hop out, shootin' sh*t, bring cops out
He don't know we got Glocks on us, he think we gon' knock him out
He said that he want war but he don't know
Can't tell that little boy what he don't know
[Verse 2]
He don't know, got so many cars, when I pull up he won't know
He was talkin' to this b*tch, she was suckin' me, he don't know
And this b*tch want blue dream back, I'm like "you don't know"
What I smoke? Better smoke OG, I like Ben Franklins baby, I don't f*ck with no Gs
Can't wife no b*tch 'cause these hoes be f*ckin' lowkey
'Cause you thought your b*tch was your b*tch but she was suckin' on me
That thot act like she ain't know that Almighty So got cinnamon rolls
That n*gga act like sneak dissin' me gon' get him on
It's me and Ben Frank, I don't like people, me and him get along
Blow your block, givin' out shots for the face just silicone
Cops won't know, unless one of you lil f*ck n*ggas snitchin' on me
Shootin' up houses: living rooms, bedrooms, and them kitchens on 'em
Shootin' up cars: front seats, passenger seats, and them engines on 'em

[Chorus]
f*ck n*gga wanna mug
He don't know I got the .40 in the club
He don't know I got my shorties in the cut
Crunchin sh*t goin' very nuts
Pull up, hop out, shootin' sh*t, bring cops out
He don't know we got Glocks on us, he think we gon' knock him out
He said that he want war but he don't know
Can't tell that little boy what he don't know