You Don’t Know (Freestyle)

Yo, yo, yo, yo (You don’t know)
Diabolic (What you’re doing)
Uh-huh, Foul Play

I’ve been dodging the law and the long arm of it
Coppin’ the raw, holding weight like a strong argument
I settle scores by knocking on Heaven’s door
Since I contemplated sky-diving off the seventh floor
I stay true, that’s word to our blessed Lord
‘Cause this sign is something I would accept death before
Blessed metaphors since Em had Grim to go jogging
But the nicer you are, the more they leave you no option
So I murder breaks and loops on stage for proof
Then I raise the roof like convertible racing coupes
I love to battle, but it’s dead I hate the truth
What happened to cats like Supernat, Face, and Juice?
Rap ain’t half as hot, the classics stopped
Matter of fact, I ain’t heard a classic since Illmatic dropped
Everything’s blasting shots, cash and rocks
Ass and twat, everyone hustles, no one spends cash to cop

So yo, I can admit it, I used to move haze for cheap
But now I just blaze, like a made this beat
I play for keeps, folks getting hand to hand money
Keeping the heat close like I’m Stan Van Gundy
Fans can’t love me, I am the most hated
Like Bolic’s nice as fuck, but fuck him, he won’t make it
I’m at shows wasted, and taking more shots
Than them four cops who popped Diallo on that Bronx block
Trigger-pulling cop popping his weapon
Could go from on top to Comstock in split seconds
I’ve been reppin’, chin checking your jaw fast
‘Til you look like Kanye West after the car crash
That’s the forecast, so I guess I see why
These haters are tight like camel tails Levis
I spit this heat live, won’t stop ’till the beat’s done
Or at least ’til I disturb the peace and police come
MC’s front like Bolic’s shit ain’t poppin’ son
But it’s been a fact since the hidden track on Vol. 1

Diabolic got these faggots peeing a puddle
When I’m on they front porch with gasoline and a shovel
Fiending for trouble, ’cause I’ll be dead by age 30
In an early grave, nah, I’ll put you in a grave early
I stay dirty, stressed bottled up like Avion
So I’m stomping cats out, picturing my baby moms
What’s this lady want, in a pink and black sandals
Driving me to drink, so I’m driving drinking Jack Daniels
I’m the guy, ride or die, driver side leaning
High beaming people while they driving by screaming
I reply to demons, hearing voices in my head
They tell me shit like feed some rat poison to a fed
Most cats would be scared, but I’m enjoying them instead
When someone’s suicide ’bout to jump, I join ‘em on the ledge
I’m close to the edge, stubborn and missing screws
My imaginary friend’s the only one I listen to
I see the bitch in you, and I sense the hoe’s anger
So I’ma go shank ya and pull out with a coat hanger
It ain’t hard to tell these fellas sense I’m real
When I laugh at major labels and develop mental deals
I feel forced to kill, when I ain’t getting this wealth
They force my had, like my brother saying stop hitting yourself
Got y’all shitting yourselves, scared to face us
Y’all some inflatable sex dolls, a bunch of fake fucks
So fall back off my ballsack, ’cause y’all wack
You ain’t about shit, all you ever do is talk crap
I four track my mixtape, now all I need to get papes
Nine bullet wounds, steroids, and to lift weights
So everytime you think you know me or who I roll with
Just keep in mind we foul play and you don’t know shit