You Oughta Know
Z.O.N.K. Lyrics

(I'm not trying to be nosey babe, oh no)
We gotta let this one breathe, Just
Just let it breathe for a sec
(I'm not trying to give you no advice)
Yup, Hovi's home
The newest edition to the Roc
(I don't plan to be no philosopher)
M.O.P. The Blueprint 2 is on its way
I know ya hear my footsteps out there, I'm comin'
(But I still know this is the life, baby, baby)
Let's go get 'em Just

Time to duck, fire
Duck, fire, duck, fire
Duck, fire, duck, fire

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

It's the MOP (yes)
And the zip-code is
1 (1), 2 (2), 3 (3)
And motherfucker we comin', a hunnid miles and gunnin'
I'm still runnin' with cats that rob
From the era of XL 80's and hatchback Saabs
(Same game) Operation for this industry lock down
We still tote hammers that go blak-ow
Run up if you wanna, believe me dog
These hammers with they owners, fuck ya G up
Have ya with blue Pampers in a coma, and
Your family now moan, look, 70 pounds gone
A little fuck, shriveled up with a hospital gown on
(We holdin' it down holmes) Keep pushin' we fell, bastards
To get over, we prowl with slippery shell tactics
Chipity frail bastards, your tracks need tune-ups
Lil' nigglet, what the fuck you recordin' for, Nick Jr?
(The game ain't changed) It just got harder
Plus we sponsored by Laze, Dame Dash and Mr. S. Carter
Brownsville (yep), we stomp in this bitch all day
Rock with my cock out, face the crowd and piss off stage

Uh, uh, uh
I'm from the G side of thangs
Where we ride and bang, with a heat that'll flame
That's how we got the name (warriors)
Embedded in ya brain, and someone should be tellin 'em
The veterans have came, and we're better in the game
You better make it rain (27 a 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 'til you hiccup and hurl
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
(MOP) The OG's repped and survived around this motherfucker
(First family) We kept it live around this motherfucker
When it's crunch time, we do it our wizzay
For shizzle my nigga, learned to grip pistols in BK

Turn my music high, high, high, high-er

Mo' fire, more Rocawear attire
Mo' money, mo' murder now that M.O.P.'s hired
Mo' further for The Roc empire, y'all won't serve us
Y'all nervous, know 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 y'all
For my Brownsville neighbors, How About Some Hardcore?
And it just get worser, every time I sign my signature in cursive
Just add another million to these verses
One million, two million, three million, four
And the money's really worthless, I'm pissin' you off on purpose
My nephew's situated, and my mom straight
So I'm ready for whatever drama should come my 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 two biscuits on the waist
Razor blades under the tongue, I will eat your face
Appetite for destruction, I am starving today
Got a money hungry lawyer that'll eat the case
And that's just food for thought, don't let it go to waste
Nigga bite the bullet until you stuffing your face, ha
I done forgot more than you ever learned
What you don't know will make your home a permanent urn, nigga

Do you believe it?
You don't know what you're doing, doing, doing, doing
Do you believe it?




You don't know what you're doing, doing, doing, doing
Do you believe it?