She Don't Know

Lyrics: Tyquian Terrel Bowman Music: Tyquian Terrel Bowman Producer: Quando Rondo (Lil Monk took that shit far) She don't really know 'bout it I'm goin' hard for my mans, yeah I got the racks in my hand, yeah Countin' up these racks, need some more rubber bands, yeah Fly as hell just like a copilot Shawty livin' great, need a tan, yeah I spent a band on these bands, yeah Chasin' that money and I'm sendin' my mans, yeah Hundreds on hundreds on hundreds I need a bitch I can **** out that bonnet Any time that I call, yeah, I know that she comin' That's my lil' dog, we had came out the muddy Too many losses I done took chasin' money I made a boss out myself off the hustle I'm the same little nigga that camе off the street corner Yeah, I rеally grinded out the struggle I need a bitch that's five for five I can talk 'bout my pain every time that we ride I got so much shit on my goddamn mind I can't get off them drugs and I'm facin' this time Straight out the gutter, the mud, I done climbed Gotta stay out of trouble and stay with that iron I lost a brother, I swear I ain't lyin' I done been through times two and I still don't cry Bae, that new Rolls-Royce, you could cry in the back Or you could be with old boy cryin' in the Cadillac I made a choice for to jump off the porch When I jumped off the porch, I been chasin' these racks Lil' shorty a whore, made her take off her dress Polo Ralph Lauren, but I got a Track' Take a trip out the country, we fly on a jet Got a plug 'cross the border, I call the connect Lil' shorty, she water, my neck and wrist wet I'm a dog, up a quarter, just tell me to fetch I'ma dodge undercovers while I'm in the 'Vette Ran it up off a quarter 'fore I got arrested I wanna **** on that ho and her best friend R.I.P. Blue, that been really my best friend I can't walk in no show 'less I'm clutchin' my weapon Since four years old, I been labeled the felon I'm a slime, wipe his nose, you might need you some tissue I'ma run from 5-0, see the cops in my rearview On my grind, sellin' dope, tryna get me some figures On the block with lil' bro 'cause you know he official I sip that lean by the four 'cause I'm mental Bro put a beam on the pole and extendo I done knocked on the door, I done knocked on the window I don't think that she know that I wanna be with her, uh She don't really know 'bout it I'm goin' hard for my mans, yeah I got the racks in my hand, yeah Countin' up these racks, need some more rubber bands, yeah Fly as hell just like a copilot Shawty livin' great, need a tan, yeah I spent a band on these bands, yeah Chasin' that money and I'm sendin' my mans, yeah Hundreds on hundreds on hundreds I need a bitch I can **** out that bonnet Any time that I call, yeah, I know that she comin' That's my lil' dog, we had came out the muddy Too many losses I done took chasin' money I made a boss out myself off the hustle I'm the same little nigga that came off the street corner Yeah, I really grinded out the struggle I need a bitch that's five for five I can talk 'bout my pain every time that we ride I got so much shit on my goddamn mind I can't get off them drugs and I'm facin' this time Straight out the gutter, the mud, I done climbed Gotta stay out of trouble and stay with that iron I lost a brother, I swear I ain't lyin' I done been through times two and I still don't cry Programming: Quando Rondo Mastering Engineer: Quando Rondo Vocals: Quando Rondo Mixing Engineer: Quando Rondo