[Chorus: Brian Angel]
It's all that I know, it's all that I know
It's all that I know, it's all that I know
It's all that I know, it's all that I know
It's all that I know, it's all that I know
[Verse 1: Mystikal]
Shit, what I do?
The bitches shuffle to the front when I come
Clap your hand & stomp your foot to the rhyme cougar
Roll the die hit the blunt
Listen to the rhythm of the rapper, ass whooper
I click-clack like a gat, spitter
Broke up with my rap, but I'm back with her
Don't fuck with my greens or
You don't want the Hulk to get mad nigga?!
Nigga, nigga, with a motherfucking man right here
Nigga nigga put his foot in your shit, or
Make a nigga slap in your ass, kisser
Let that nigga do the little song
Write it to the music, feel it work it
Soon as Trae e-mail me the beat
I'mma take it to the booth and I'mma kill it, murk it
Curse it, bless it, church it, cash it, change it, purse it
Tell them niggas that I'm back on the block
And I got them killer verses
Tell 'em to sell 'em the one for ten
I'd let them go, two for five
Either way, I'mma get that ten
Or you don't get none of these rhymes
Long as I murder these shows and hurdle these hoes
Shorty don't go and I don't have to be working that lows
I rock jewelry that glows with a rap name, twenty years old
Shit, what else can I say? Fuck, that's all that I know!
It's all that I know, it's all that I know
It's all that I know, it's all that I know
It's all that I know, it's all that I know
It's all that I know, it's all that I know
[Verse 1: Mystikal]
Shit, what I do?
The bitches shuffle to the front when I come
Clap your hand & stomp your foot to the rhyme cougar
Roll the die hit the blunt
Listen to the rhythm of the rapper, ass whooper
I click-clack like a gat, spitter
Broke up with my rap, but I'm back with her
Don't fuck with my greens or
You don't want the Hulk to get mad nigga?!
Nigga, nigga, with a motherfucking man right here
Nigga nigga put his foot in your shit, or
Make a nigga slap in your ass, kisser
Let that nigga do the little song
Write it to the music, feel it work it
Soon as Trae e-mail me the beat
I'mma take it to the booth and I'mma kill it, murk it
Curse it, bless it, church it, cash it, change it, purse it
Tell them niggas that I'm back on the block
And I got them killer verses
Tell 'em to sell 'em the one for ten
I'd let them go, two for five
Either way, I'mma get that ten
Or you don't get none of these rhymes
Long as I murder these shows and hurdle these hoes
Shorty don't go and I don't have to be working that lows
I rock jewelry that glows with a rap name, twenty years old
Shit, what else can I say? Fuck, that's all that I know!
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