Lyrics Who Knows Why? - Freddie Foxxx
Yeah
Turn
it
up
That's
right
For
my
niggas
Here
we
go
Some
real
niggas
have
gone
away...
never
to
return
Stay
forever
on
wax
cuz
the
mics
they
burn
Outta
sight,
outta
mind,
never
does
it
mean
outta
might,
outta
rhyme
So
I
return
to
make
it
hot
for
those
who
cannot
Smile
down
on
me
niggas,
while
I
rock
the
spot
Is
there
heaven
for
a
nice
emcee
Crushin
all
these
suckers
dear
God
don't
be
mad
with
me
I
don't
mean
to
hurt
nobody,
I
just
wanna
rock
the
party
And
give
you
a
taste
of
what's
left,
before
I
see
death
Watch
a
nigga
back,
cuz
I
don't
trust
nobody
Left
hand
hold
the
mic,
and
right
bust
the
shottie
Sendin
angels
to
guide
me
through,
in
the
white
drop
top
When
they
ride
me
through
When
I
hit
the
pearly
gates,
will
they
take
my
tats
Will
they
let
me
rock
the
mic,
will
the
beats
be
phat
Will
the
rappers
write
they
own
rhymes
up
in
that
piece
Will
the
fakes
get
locked
by
the
hip
hop
police
Or
will
I
have
to
deal
with
A&R's
who
don't
got
no
say
I
hope
it
don't
be
that
way,
tell
me
Who
Knows
Why
The
reasons
we
live
and
the
reasons
we
die
You
can't
figure
this
one,
so
why
try
God
help
my
soul
as
I
testify
And
I
wont
lie
Now
as
I'm
lookin
in
the
mirror
I
see
myself
Handsome
with
attitude,
so
momma
gratitude
I
put
the
pressure
on
emcees
I
make
it
hard
for
ya,
with
total,
disregard
for
ya
This
rap
shit
is
raw
not
to
be
touched
The
ingredients
if
tampered
with,
could
get
you
fucked
up
No
one
knows
this
secret
I
hold
like
Moses
Given
at
birth,
now
what
it's
worth,
it's
more
than
a
million
six
Let
me
spit
it
to
you
niggas,
while
my
rhyme
exists
Listen,
separate
the
real
from
the
wishin
If
you
bust
at
me
and
miss,
you
gon
end
up
missin
Cuz
on
these
rap
niggas
styles
I
be
shittin,
pissin
Leave
you
niggas
lookin
dumb
like
two
niggas
kissin
I'm
the
true
hardcore
underground
messiah
I'm
the
kinda
nigga
street
thugs
can
admire
You
never
see
me
gettin
robbed,
jumped
down
and
whipped
out
Or
cryin
'bout
a
deal
with
no
money,
flipped
out
I
get
off
my
ass
and
make
it
happen
I'll
stick
up
the
world
if
I
aint
rappin
So
why
do
I
exist,
tell
me
May
Allah
shine
down
on
any
emcee
That'll
stand
on
stage
and
hold
a
mic
with
me
May
he
give
you
all
the
flow
of
the
ocean
water
And
some
nice
hand
skills
to
prevent
slaughter
My
lyrics
painful
like
bullets
from
a
rusty
tech
Bumpy
Knucks,
nigga
what,
and
you
must
respect
All
the
true
shit
that
I
reflect
Niggas
know
I
exist
only
to
wreck
Won't
let
the
loosen
til
you
sign
the
check
I
won't
be
fussin
at
ya,
but
bustin
at
ya
I
treat
all
my
rhymes
like
they
devines
Niggas
spot
me
like
a
UFO
I
turn
my
mic
on
and
resurrect
the
livest
flow
So
if
you
askin
me,
why
am
I
here
To
clarify
hip
hop
loud
and
clear
Real
niggas,
tell
me
HOOK
1 Live @ the Roxy 2000
2 24 Hrs
3 Tell 'em I'm Here
4 Bambaataa & Bumpy Talk Industry
5 Inside Your Head
6 Who Knows Why?
7 Searchin' (feat. Terisa Griffin)
8 Never Bow Down
9 Industry Shakedown
10 MC's Come & MC's Go
11 Bumpy Bring It Home (feat. M.O.P.)
12 Live in Tokyo With DJ Rukas
13 Bumpy Knuckles Baby
14 R.N.S.
15 Stock in the Game
16 Intelligent Thug-Bumpy's Theory
17 Feel Like I Been Here
18 The Mastas (feat. M.O.P.)
19 Part of My Life
20 Live @ the Roxy - 2000 Outro
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