They Don't Know (214) ft. B-Dash & Jakecon Lyrics

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

Yeah

Ganster to the elements

Clear the scene, leave all the evidence

Your going to think a nigga like me was Heaven sent

When I pull up to your hood or your residence

It isn't nothing to boss, cause it's evident

You better put your money away

You aren't confident

Fifteen percent of that shit be real

The other eighty-five percent be fake as shit

You better watch what you say to me

Keep your eyes and your toes all down in the streets

I be rolling seventy-five about twice a week

They done found another body in The Trinity

Chop it up with my niggas out that Murder Worth

Eight one seven be known for that murder first

Four six nine, six eight two dog

That shit just be that area code

Roll up bout three in a row

Fucking around with my nigga off Kiest & Polk

He didn't know that I was a real Bloody ass nigga

But I keep a couple Crips off Wheatland Road

Everything be moving slow

When I pour a four in double styrofoam cups

Got a couple bottles off Riverfront

Now we're rolling through the city

Getting real fucked up

Some niggas might call it Mic City

Know a couple gangsters that's getting it

All of my niggas counting them digits

Two one four, my niggas really getting it

My niggas really getting it

These niggas don't know about two one four, man

My niggas really gritty

Yeah

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

These fools don't know about that two one four

Now, now, now, now

Tell me what you know about

That Dirty South

Boys sitting on chrome

And got them golds

Thrown all up in they mouth

Down here, we call them grills

Like UGK, we keep it trill

Hey I might pop a pill

And keep my sweets filled up with that kill

Never none of that reggie, though

If we gone blow, it must be dro

Flown in from Mexico

If you got a better connect

Then let me know

If not, then let me go

Choke on that indo smoke

Blow about two blunts, then roll

Back to that liquor store

We fixing to go get some more

Any brown drink ending with XO

Henny, Remy, E&J Extra Old

Corked up over eight years old

Got to be top-shelf, you know

Anything less? I'll tell you, no

This two one four, it's Texas, hoe

And we like our music extra slow

Now let me tell you a little bit about that D-Town swag

Triple D that, these niggas out here getting that cash

Riding foreign car, behind tint, blowing that gas

And we'll blast on that ass with that four-four mag

My niggas staying to they business

And these haters, they mad

But I'm never fucked up about it

Just keep smashing the gas

Cause I'm a South Dallas nigga

And I'm built to last

Coming off of Second Avenue

Getting at some cash

Got killers in masks

Repping the set, while playing with techs

My niggas, they sick

So fuck your click

I'll fuck your bitch

Straight gangster shit

I'll empty clips

Then sank your ship

And to keep from going under

Jump in my whip & dip

I plead the fifth

Yeah, I'm on some Dallas shit

You got Oak Cliff, The Nutty North

And The Grove in this bitch

These fools don't know, for show

Why we loving this shit

But two one four, you already know

Just let me thug in this bitch