Lyrics Know What I'm Sayin' - Mike Jones
[Chorus]
Represent
yo
hood,
Represent
yo
block,
Represent
yo
spot.
"Know
what
I'm
saying?"
Represent
ya
ward,
Represent
ya
town
because
it's
goin
down.
"Know
what
I'm
talkin
bout?"
[Bun
B]
When
you
seee
me
with
my
gun
on,
Its
a
be
a
one
on,
You
know
what
type
of
shit
Big
Bun
on.
Some
of
that
six
figure
shit,
That
live
and
die
by
the
trigger
shit,
That
H-Town,
P.A.
Texas
trill
ass
nigga
shit.
Wanna
fuck
with
me
get
a
bigger
clique,
Move
yay
get
a
bigger
brick,
Wanna
fuck
my
gal
get
a
bigger
dick.
So
do
me
a
favor
(favor),
Recognize
that
you
a
hater,
That
couldn't
see
me
if
i
was
ya
neighbor.
Yeah
Mike
Jones
and
Swishahouse,
Finna
meet
me
at
yo
sista
house,
Tell
het
have
that
doja
and
them
swishas
out.
Nigga
we
gon
set
up
shop
in
here,
Let
bottles
pop
in
here,
And
watch
these
bad
ass
bitches
bop
in
here.
Shit
midddle
fingaz
up
(and
haters
down),
We
about
that
drama,
So
if
you
don't
want
it
bitch
don't
bring
us
up.
Man
and
we
gonna
be
grindin,
Nigga
huggin
this
block,
Till
they
free
KS
and
let
my
brother
off
lock.
[Chorus]
[Mike
Jones]
I
sip
on
purple
barre,
Ride
around
town
in
my
candy
car,
Diamonds
shine
like
a
star.
I
love
to
grip
that
wood
grain,
Love
to
talk
that
texas
slang,
I
spend
change
like
it
ain't
no
thang
nigga.
Because
down
south
we
be
tippin
on
fo's,
In
the
parking
lot
pimpin
these
hoes,
Its
M.O.B.
on
every
hoe
nigga.
Down
in
H-Town
we
grippin
on
grain,
Flippin
on
swangs
sippin
that
drank,
Causin
pain
in
the
turnin
lane
nigga.
(Holla
at
me)
281-330-8004
Hit
Mike
Jones
up
on
the
low
(Yeah)
I
said
281-330-8004
Hit
Mike
Jones
up
on
the
low
(Yeah)
[Chorus]
[Lil
Keke]
They
betta
stop
playin,
Because
we
might
slain,
Somebody
start
prayin
man.
I'm
bout
to
get
it
hot,
Before
i
blow
the
spot,
Give
me
some
henn
and
rocks
fool.
I'm
bout
to
let
it
go,
I'm
talkin
killa
blow,
You
watch
yo
chick
you
check
ya
bitch.
You
niggas
know
it's
on,
We
pushin
plenty
chrome,
This
the
Don
me
and
Bun.
I
fuck
with
Mike
Jones,
Broke
niggas
stay
at
home,
We
off
the
hook
like
Cokka
Book.
Big
Texas
where
it's
at,
Ya'll
betta
holla
back,
We
packin
gats
and
smokin
sacks.
Pimpin
these
young
hoes,
And
my
bank
roll
sits
swoll,
Got
me
tippin
on
fo
fo's
nigga.
I'm
bout
to
smash
up,
Ya'll
niggas
given
up,
You
roll
a
square
and
po
a
cup.
[Chorus]
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