u can’t see me lyrics – juvenile


now you can’t hang around, my crew or my clique,
especially if you ain’t about no gangsta sh*t,
you can’t hang around, my crew or my clique,
especially if you ain’t about no gangsta sh*t

[first verse:]

kirby’s round the corner playin’ bones with russ,
i’m waitin’ for my b*tch to get off of the bus,
she told me she could make it to my house by twelve,
so we could get it on, just amongst ourselves,
she came to, i had a blunt to blow,
after that, i’ma be ready to f*ck this hoe,
i ran up in it for an hour or so,
put her back in the bus and took a route to the store,
picked up some brew for the rest of my crew,
and a couple of cigars for a blunt or two,
headed for the d.j. way on teledonna,
now this area was all about drama,
hoes was sweatin’, i had my shades on,
ready to put the d*ck on any b*tch that i played on,
now what’s the haps with you and your clique?
i don’t think you want no more gangsta sh*t,
mo i can roll, i’m just a baller from the south,
ready to knock any m*th*f*ckin’ p*ssy out,
i got b*tches on the side wanna ride with nine,
but don’t understand the way that i kicks the style,
but i’m a flexor, to riggedy-wrecks-a n*gg* from the nolia,
i’m goin’ out everytime when i kick i’m like a solja,
n*gg*s don’t understand the way that i flow,
the fliz-no is slow, so check this out bro


[second verse:]

i kicks the sh*t that make them n*gg*s say “ooh”,
that’ll make them hoes say “yeah, that must be that n*gg* juv”,
i’m from the, wild side of the city,
what a pity, i’m wild, like a m*th*f*ckin’ crazed frank nitty,
i’m not the old days n*gg* that’s comin’ with the gats,
n*gg* where you at? n*gg* where you at? n*gg* where you at?
give me a bag of powder, watch me twitch,
i might go crazy and wanna kill in this b*tch,
i seen a lot of n*gg*s talk sh*t about me,
but don’t know a m*th*f*ckin’ thing about me,
so keep my name outta your mouth and you just might just don’t see the glock,
pop everytime i see your *ss on my block,
shop close for the hoes, that used to think that juv would trick,
but b*tch how you feel? cuz you ain’t got sh*t,
n*gg*s wanna play these games and don’t know,
that i am the wickedest one you know bro,
i’m just a n*gg* from off the side,
so what’s up? i’m bout to rock in the house, right?
microphone check one two, now what’s the haps?
it’s time for me to put my neighborhood on the map,
i’m from the neighborhood of the wild magnolia,
home of the killas, the trillas, the soljas,
droppin’ m*th*f*ckas like an everyday habit,
if i see your fine, s*xy b*tch, i’ma stab it,
comin’ from my head, my skin tone is red,
ready to put the m*th*f*ckin’ black boy to bed,
i ain’t never was afraid of no war,
cuz where i come from, we snort powder and we roar


[third verse:]

i’m in the nolia, lookin’ for the poppers,
took me a hit off the blunt, then i spot her,
hoe that i know, bout twenty years of age,
a pepper-red b*tch with extensions in her head,
now she was the type to put you in a plot ball,
her last old man done got his head knocked off,
but f*ck i want the p*ssy so let’s see what she’s about,
she gave me the phone number and the address to her house,
i p*ssed by late, she stayed on south mero,
walked in the door with my three eight zero,
popped on that *ss, got her nothin’, i was outty,
now she calls me sayin’ how she feel about me,
“come back to me, juvenile, i’m beggin’ you please”,
“won’t you just come back to me, juvenile, i’m beggin’ you please”,
now, if i was king, just imagine that sh*t,
i’d have the queen back smackin’ that b*tch,
now drop to your knees and kiss, and you tease,
of that, h*ll of a guy mister j-u-v,
i want riches, f*ck b*tches and them hoes,
no better than a sweater, fella, cuz i won’t let her,
hoe blow my head off, and take me off ground,
knowin’ inside that a b*tch could bring me down,
juvenile let a hoe trap me?
that ain’t the hamp, i’m on the map aiyyo i’m in the house,
and i’m on the map g


/ juvenile lyrics