lirik lagu mistah f.a.b. - where you at
[intro]
uh, the jacka
(i know you know, ayy)
uh, remy (j)
love you, bruh, ‘preciate this one
(i know they know what this is)
tt3, uh
[chorus: the jacka]
she don’t know me yet, but she love the jack
k!llers where we at, dealers where we at
you chillin’ where we at, you know where you at
k!llin’ for our rep, you don’t know us yet
she don’t know me yet, but she love the jack
k!llers where we at, dealers where we at
you chillin’ where we at, you know where you at
k!llin’ for our rep, you don’t know us yet
[verse 1: mistah f.a.b.]
uh, still in the trenches with the k!llers and the dealers
and the dopeboys post on the corner
and for a rock, man a knock, he’ll give you his droptop
i rock it, that’s a loner
call them dope fiend rentals, knocked out like dope fiend dentals
if don’t n0body know you on the spot then you ain’t official
you can ask the ogs, you can ask the young g’s
everybody know me, ball like kobe
dirt by my lonely, need no codeine
watched my daddy get high, d-mn near od’d
he off that heron stick, i’m off that syrup and sh-t
i used to pour it, tap it, mix it and sip
grab a sprite, make sure you mix it right
roll a little blunt of that kryptonite
you know i’m on like sh-t tonight
got oops with me, so i ain’t slippin’, right
i miss the jack, this a fact
d-mn, wish i really could get him back
but it’s sh-t like that that really hit like that
when you really dwellin’ where them k!llers at
where them n-ggas at, and them drillers at
and them flippers at, that be flippin’ packs
man, i grew up, yeah, with them powder heads
that be gettin’ high and they be sniffin’ sacks
they double up and then dippin’ back
got the hammer on him, he’ll split his hat
don’t care how hard it get, real n-ggas know the script, don’t never rat
[chorus: the jacka]
she don’t know me yet, but she love the jack
k!llers where we at, dealers where we at
you chillin’ where we at, you know where you at
k!llin’ for our rep, you don’t know us yet
she don’t know me yet, but she love the jack
k!llers where we at, dealers where we at
you chillin’ where we at, you know where you at
k!llin’ for our rep, you don’t know us yet
[verse 2: mistah f.a.b.]
hard to be humble in this jungle when these animals free
where n-ggas don’t move their lips and if it’s beef, that cannon gon’ speak
tryna make an animal of me, but i got handles in these streets
a dog-eat-dog-eat world, that’s why sometimes gotta hannibal these g’s
i shed tears for all my thugs that’s no longer here and they’re gone
if i could call heaven, man, i swear i’d get the jack on the phone
put my mama on speaker, raised by the dope fiends and tweakers
i knew my n-gga didn’t wanna do it, but he needed them sneakers
grew up in houses that was cold, stayin’ quiet, that’s the code
where i’m from, some never grow, still on the corner at 40 years old
dressin’ like a young n-gga, pants on sag
with a mouth full of rocks or a bundle in a bag
and the old n-gga mad ’cause the lil’ n-gga savv’
so he try to steal his stash and he wanna stop his cash
then the lil’ n-gga flash and he go and get his gat
and the n-gga told him, “bruh, give that n-gga a p-ss”
but the lil’ n-gga mad and he ’bout to go back
and he shot four shots to the og’s -ss
and that’s how it go where i’m from
but you wouldn’t know where i’m from
if you don’t come to the slums
where they be k!llin’ for crumbs
[chorus: the jacka]
she don’t know me yet, but she love the jack
k!llers where we at, dealers where we at
you chillin’ where we at, you know where you at
k!llin’ for our rep, you don’t know us yet
she don’t know me yet, but she love the jack
k!llers where we at, dealers where we at
you chillin’ where we at, you know where you at
k!llin’ for our rep, you don’t know us yet
[verse 3: mistah f.a.b.]
and all he know is murder, all he know is k!ll
raised around on fake sh-t, he don’t even know what’s real
nah, he don’t even know his dad, heard the n-gga took a deal
15 locked down in the pen, tryna wait for an appeal
my lil’ n-gga poppin’ pills, all prescriptions, though
and when he pop a pill, he get to trippin’, though
put the xan off in the bowl, get to flashin’ on this four
sippin’ syrup and he sniffin’ c0ke
robbin’ n-ggas, make ’em hit the floor
off them percocets, he become a threat
and now n0body trust him on the set
stripped the dice game the other night
took his chain right off his neck
but he on that bully sh-t, and young n-ggas ain’t goin’ for it, though
’cause no bullies last where i’m from, cuz
lil’ n-gga like he got us f-cked up, n-gga, tough luck
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