PS - Thought You Knew lyrics

Verse 1: PS Never gave a f** and I still don't So save your lectures, I'mma g**n for the rest of my life A young BG deranged in the brain The youngest motherf**er on the chain gang Yeah I still slang my thangs like a G Really can I make your a** rest in peace? No need to waste my energy squabbin Quick to pull the trigger, put your a** in a coffin Never been a baller but I trap many ballin Homies y'know I don't give a f**, I was starvin You better hide your daughter cos I'm out to get laid with dick And have her sprung on this black a** n***a Straight up out the gutter, have her stealin from her daddy and her mother Sellin rocks to the scandalous a** clockers Ready to meet my snaps, yeah I'm cool like that And I never gave a f** about a stupid a** hoodrat Chorus: b**hes ridin on my bit n***as hit me up and sh** But I'm from the Eastside Where the n***as do or die Representin like a dream Cos Circle's deep I thought you knew Verse 2: Billy Boy Uh, uh, uh As I crack dice from one hood to the next Doin credit card schemes and cashin hot cheques I got a 9 for any n***a that come runnin up Keepin motherf**ers on the duck You can give a this or that sling, the yea or the tracks But when your chick starts choking ya, you gots ta break me off I sweat ya like Keith until ya give me my ends If a nickel bag is sold in the park I want in In the middle of the night when the spot's not hot You can find Billy Boy rollin down your block Hittin switches cos your b**h is gettin paid, cos that's my way And all the hoes still wanna f** (You know we do) I bleed like the next man but when the gat is in my hand You can bet my monkey a** is comin out on top LA hustlers can't live without money So before I make sense I gots ta make a knot Cos I can't f** without my hoes And I can't hit no switch without the 6-4 Everybody wanna f** a n***a like me But I won't be gettin back in the CPT Chorus: n***as tryin to give me stuff Billy Boy don't give a f** First I warn you with my rhyme Then I'll f** you with my 9 Don't give your plees cos I don't bang But I'm down to fully slang 40 Thevz end down your crew Cos Circle's deep I thought you knew Verse 3: Coolio I fold a rapper like a dollar just to hear his punk a** holler Walk into his hood and grab his homies by the collar Stock em all up like a pack of punk b**hes Now I got his whole crew wearin heels and doin dishes You don't wanna see me out the motherf**in front Don't you take this sh** for granted just cos n***as call me Cool R-E-S-P-E-C-T C-O-O-L-I-O G M to the A, A to the D A Circle full of n***as that you don't wanna see You ain't nuttin but a pistol that's f**in with a missile I chew your a** like gristle til the ref blows the whistle Sing a song of six packs, a pocket full of snaps Ain't no punks in my motherf**in pack See I use to be broke now I blow indo smoke First you diss my city then you choke *cough* Chorus: C-O-M-P-T-O-N Punk motherf**ers get two to the chin I don't give a f** what'cha got or who you know Step to the Maadness, your a** gotta go Ain't a damn thing changed but only the year East Coast, West Coast get the *?c'reer?* You don't wanna see my crew Cos Circle's deep I thought you knew