You Can’t See Me (Letra)

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Uh… geah… uh…
Niggaz can’t fuck with this… it ain’t nuthin but the eihthype click…
Geah… uh… c’mon

Eiht:

Step in the arena
In 9-6
I’m kinda mean of
Felony case catcher
No misdemenour
Mentality of a psychopath
When i catch you dippin slip into this blood bath (geah)
The 9 niggas ain’t no joke
So you gone bear witness, get this
Like the fuccin gun smoke
It don’t matter cuz i got you suspended
Fucc up your whole program your life ended
The tec 9 split up, i’ma get you
Unload these muthafuccin hollows till i hit you
Fuccin with my mind
The wrong kind
Evil as fuck
The glock goes buck… buck… buck… buck
Duck
Your head
Instead
The scene that is left is your mutherfuckin death
My glock goes up
To fools wanna be me
But them punk ass niggas don’t wanna see me (c’mon uh geah)

Chorus…

Eiht:

To be or not to be
Killed
When you’re fuckin with the eiht, bam and chill (geah)
Specialize in the murder
Rappin
Original baby fuckin gangsta streiht ass tappin
I got that ass on cue
You be dazed and confused tryin to figure out
What we fix to do (whut tha fucc?)
You best hit the ground (geah)
These killin niggas
Be spittin up the k and don’t be fuccin around
I seen two niggas fall (geah)
But
Wait
Eiht
Got
Slugs for all of y’all
Boom bam picks the slack up (geah)
For fools that’s tryin to let off chill gots the mac up
Them killin niggas doin drive bys,
Lighten up yo’ whole fuckin yard like fire flies
Little hawk’n bird got my back g (that’s rite)
The glock goes up to them punk ass niggas don’t wanna see me

Chorus…

Tha chill:

Now i remember back when we use to hit lil licks
Ever since thirteen i’ve been hittin the mean joe green
Big strap in my bacc pocket
Just in case a nigga wanted to act a fool i unlock it
Cock it
Peel his cap back
Run nigga ya best ta run, jog to the cluck,
Buckin on my way tossed the gun
And now i’m rollin like ain’t nuthin went on
But i’m knowin i did that dirt
So i’m knowin i can’t go home
Shiiit just a little trip
Puffin on a little endo
Lay low
Servin the cluckers and clockin a couple of c-notes
Park around the corner from the spot uh
Cuz nigga we slangin rocks and the spot it got hot
So i bails up the block with that gangsta strut
Rememba the po po hot with my cavi in my butt
Stepped on the porch gave my nigga some dap
Hatin at the c-o-p’s
Tryin to see these

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You Can’t See Me (Letra)

King Tee

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[king tee]
I run that old gangsterism on the normal
The name is king tee, i pack guns like it’s formal
With the utmost respect i be chillin
Knockin mc’s out cause i’m the best in this building
I be the g-r-e-a-t, plus majestic
Magical, radical, the technique is hectic
I, floss upon the scene in the front and back caddy
Yeah, here goes big daddy, heh
In my trunk i keep a whole fifth of ‘gnac
In there with some extra hollow points for my strap
Cause i bust on fools, i shoot down fools that front
The last of the few with the funk
King tipsy, who flips the, rhymes like i’m crazy
You know these artificial gangsters can’t fade tee
The original g, from the c-p-t
I’m no joke on the funk fool, you can’t see me

"to all my people with the funk.." (yeah)
You can’t see me!
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can’t see me!
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at-at-at?"

[king tee]
Huh, i’m really into girls with fat cats
Hoochies, and hoes, and some hoodrats
I take ‘em to the snooty fox for the spin
But if they real proper, we hit the comfort inn
I grab a fifth of tanqueray and some squirt
A fat bag of chronic then we’re coolin like levert
Turn on the porno flicks just to set the mood
Toss the bitch up and leave her ass in the room
Cause a bitch ain’t shit like snoop told it
All i do is toss and let the next man hold it
I chill at the bar because that’s the spot
Where a bitch’ll get ten dollars just rubbin on the cock
Yeah, tee bein a trick won’t work
You won’t spend my money on no (??)
And that’s real, comin from a real-ass g
I’ma just toss yo’ ass like a salad beatch, you can’t see me

"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can’t see me!
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can’t see me!
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"

[king tee]
Now i’ma take the third verse to the neck
Then ask who’s next and, ask who wrecks?
I bring tha alkaholik spirit to the room
Down two 40’s, then hit the boom
Release all your doubts cause, i’m what it’s about
The funky drunk man, in front with the stout
And niggaz wanna test the fashion
Cause i bring passion, for those who’s askin
I don’t trip i just, hit the switch for the funk shit
I don’t fuck with the punk shit
I slang my rap like crack, and niggaz be cluckin
A quick blast for the buck
Then they spark, and yo oh, peace to mark
For the beat from carolina to the compton streets
They’ll know, the original g, from the c-p-t
I "act a fool" on the funk boy, you can’t see me

"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can’t see me!
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
You can’t see me!
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"
"to all my people with the funk.." ".. where ya at?"

{*scratches ad-libbed to fade*}