Song | Keep 'Em Guessin' |
Artist | Ant Banks |
Album | The Best Of Ant Banks |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Banks, Nelson, Royster | |
(Intro:) | |
Mmhhmm | |
I'm keepin' mother****ers guessin' | |
That's right | |
(Verse 1:) | |
It's a blessing so let me speak and teach a lesson | |
I run deep and freak on streets, I keep 'em guessin' | |
I'm flexin' when I hit the Hennessy | |
Then I see the enemy | |
Pretender think that he know my identity | |
But nigga that's a penalty so here we go again | |
You think you know what I'm foldin' | |
Cause what I'm rollin' in | |
Well I don't give a **** nigga I was in the cut | |
While you was up at my spot tryin' to peep what I got | |
Why not bust a shot when I was ridin' you was mad | |
And see me in the bucket and thought I was doin' bad | |
Thinkin' that I was broke but you can peep and goin' wonder | |
But little did you know that I was creepin' on the under | |
Goin' yonder now you dumber cause your number has been pulled | |
You fool cause that shit you thought you knew was bull | |
At this beef where you at see I'm speakin' the facts | |
So forget that chit-chat cause it's deeper than that | |
And I'm keepin' a Gat and let my Tecs blast quick | |
So why the **** you sittin' back stressin' of the next man's shit | |
Cause I'm the ****in' one and only | |
And you busters can't get on me | |
You're in danger you don't know me | |
I'm a stranger not your homie | |
You know **** ya'll don't know about me | |
But check it out | |
(Chorus:) | |
Run up on this fool and get your head split | |
And if you don't know | |
You better ask somebody you'd better ask somebody | |
That's right | |
Niggas wanna trip I'm hard to the bone | |
They all on my dick so let's get it goin' on | |
(Verse 2:) | |
Dressed up in these street clothes | |
I'm ready to beat hos this game is lethal | |
I'm sellin' rocks tryin' to move up to sellin' kilos | |
But these hoes and negros | |
Be tryin' to stop my progress | |
But when you're in my way | |
You's just the victim I'ma rob next | |
And it's a terrible thang I gotta **** up your crew | |
And have you goin' thru unbearable pain | |
I'm in the game and they claim that I'm on the run | |
I own a gun 16 shots bust up on this one | |
Yeah mother****ers I'm the one | |
With beats from the streets | |
So don't talk that shit and be scared to come to me | |
I know them punk ass niggas be jockin' my flows | |
But when I turn my back they just yap like some gossippin' hoes | |
I guess I ain't got no true friends but I got a few wins | |
To pay for paint and put this AMG's on my new Benz | |
Them jealous niggas steady guessin' and wonderin' | |
Tryin' to catch up but stuck stressin' and wonderin' | |
I'm never stumblin' just bundlin' up my cash | |
I gotta last so I don't give a **** to blast | |
My mind be havin' sinister thoughts | |
I guess it's because I always mug when the ministers talk | |
I'm heavy-weightin' capable to breakin' a fool's neck | |
So quit tryin' to figure out what this nigga gon do next | |
(Chorus:) | |
(Verse 3:) | |
I ain't sleepin' I'm just creepin' | |
I just lurks in the dark I'm that nigga Ant Banks | |
With beats burps and them farts | |
But niggas wanna start flashin' and trippin' on my lifestyle | |
Cause I'm makin' cash and they ass stuck up on a pipe now | |
I write down facts so the saps think that I'm dissin' | |
But listen guess this is just an addiction for non-fiction | |
And niggas break on the tracks and fat tapes | |
That Max makes so homie wait and get your fact straight | |
But act fake and end up bendin' from back brakes | |
A busted head, a broken leg and a cracked face | |
I can't let him live | |
Crashed up his ribs with my body blows | |
I got him froze tremblin' cold with his snotty nose | |
You chose not to have a hustle now you desirin' mines | |
Tryin' to find out my mix but I got those clips for inquirin' minds | |
Them tirin' lines I'm hearin' ain't phasin' me | |
I was raised a G and that's what I'm paid to be | |
So **** them suckers with them false accusations | |
Lookin' for my location tryin' to stop my operation | |
You wastin' time cause a Nine is my protection | |
Get off my dick flexin' and keep on guessin' | |
Nigga, you know what I'm sayin' | |
You can't **** with this here | |
(Chorus:) | |
(Outro:) | |
Like that there | |
Keep these mother****ers guessin' | |
From 9-5 til infinity nigga | |
Stay off my mother****in' dick | |
Peace out |
zuo ci : Banks, Nelson, Royster | |
Intro: | |
Mmhhmm | |
I' m keepin' mother ers guessin' | |
That' s right | |
Verse 1: | |
It' s a blessing so let me speak and teach a lesson | |
I run deep and freak on streets, I keep ' em guessin' | |
I' m flexin' when I hit the Hennessy | |
Then I see the enemy | |
Pretender think that he know my identity | |
But nigga that' s a penalty so here we go again | |
You think you know what I' m foldin' | |
Cause what I' m rollin' in | |
Well I don' t give a nigga I was in the cut | |
While you was up at my spot tryin' to peep what I got | |
Why not bust a shot when I was ridin' you was mad | |
And see me in the bucket and thought I was doin' bad | |
Thinkin' that I was broke but you can peep and goin' wonder | |
But little did you know that I was creepin' on the under | |
Goin' yonder now you dumber cause your number has been pulled | |
You fool cause that shit you thought you knew was bull | |
At this beef where you at see I' m speakin' the facts | |
So forget that chitchat cause it' s deeper than that | |
And I' m keepin' a Gat and let my Tecs blast quick | |
So why the you sittin' back stressin' of the next man' s shit | |
Cause I' m the in' one and only | |
And you busters can' t get on me | |
You' re in danger you don' t know me | |
I' m a stranger not your homie | |
You know ya' ll don' t know about me | |
But check it out | |
Chorus: | |
Run up on this fool and get your head split | |
And if you don' t know | |
You better ask somebody you' d better ask somebody | |
That' s right | |
Niggas wanna trip I' m hard to the bone | |
They all on my dick so let' s get it goin' on | |
Verse 2: | |
Dressed up in these street clothes | |
I' m ready to beat hos this game is lethal | |
I' m sellin' rocks tryin' to move up to sellin' kilos | |
But these hoes and negros | |
Be tryin' to stop my progress | |
But when you' re in my way | |
You' s just the victim I' ma rob next | |
And it' s a terrible thang I gotta up your crew | |
And have you goin' thru unbearable pain | |
I' m in the game and they claim that I' m on the run | |
I own a gun 16 shots bust up on this one | |
Yeah mother ers I' m the one | |
With beats from the streets | |
So don' t talk that shit and be scared to come to me | |
I know them punk ass niggas be jockin' my flows | |
But when I turn my back they just yap like some gossippin' hoes | |
I guess I ain' t got no true friends but I got a few wins | |
To pay for paint and put this AMG' s on my new Benz | |
Them jealous niggas steady guessin' and wonderin' | |
Tryin' to catch up but stuck stressin' and wonderin' | |
I' m never stumblin' just bundlin' up my cash | |
I gotta last so I don' t give a to blast | |
My mind be havin' sinister thoughts | |
I guess it' s because I always mug when the ministers talk | |
I' m heavyweightin' capable to breakin' a fool' s neck | |
So quit tryin' to figure out what this nigga gon do next | |
Chorus: | |
Verse 3: | |
I ain' t sleepin' I' m just creepin' | |
I just lurks in the dark I' m that nigga Ant Banks | |
With beats burps and them farts | |
But niggas wanna start flashin' and trippin' on my lifestyle | |
Cause I' m makin' cash and they ass stuck up on a pipe now | |
I write down facts so the saps think that I' m dissin' | |
But listen guess this is just an addiction for nonfiction | |
And niggas break on the tracks and fat tapes | |
That Max makes so homie wait and get your fact straight | |
But act fake and end up bendin' from back brakes | |
A busted head, a broken leg and a cracked face | |
I can' t let him live | |
Crashed up his ribs with my body blows | |
I got him froze tremblin' cold with his snotty nose | |
You chose not to have a hustle now you desirin' mines | |
Tryin' to find out my mix but I got those clips for inquirin' minds | |
Them tirin' lines I' m hearin' ain' t phasin' me | |
I was raised a G and that' s what I' m paid to be | |
So them suckers with them false accusations | |
Lookin' for my location tryin' to stop my operation | |
You wastin' time cause a Nine is my protection | |
Get off my dick flexin' and keep on guessin' | |
Nigga, you know what I' m sayin' | |
You can' t with this here | |
Chorus: | |
Outro: | |
Like that there | |
Keep these mother ers guessin' | |
From 95 til infinity nigga | |
Stay off my mother in' dick | |
Peace out |
zuò cí : Banks, Nelson, Royster | |
Intro: | |
Mmhhmm | |
I' m keepin' mother ers guessin' | |
That' s right | |
Verse 1: | |
It' s a blessing so let me speak and teach a lesson | |
I run deep and freak on streets, I keep ' em guessin' | |
I' m flexin' when I hit the Hennessy | |
Then I see the enemy | |
Pretender think that he know my identity | |
But nigga that' s a penalty so here we go again | |
You think you know what I' m foldin' | |
Cause what I' m rollin' in | |
Well I don' t give a nigga I was in the cut | |
While you was up at my spot tryin' to peep what I got | |
Why not bust a shot when I was ridin' you was mad | |
And see me in the bucket and thought I was doin' bad | |
Thinkin' that I was broke but you can peep and goin' wonder | |
But little did you know that I was creepin' on the under | |
Goin' yonder now you dumber cause your number has been pulled | |
You fool cause that shit you thought you knew was bull | |
At this beef where you at see I' m speakin' the facts | |
So forget that chitchat cause it' s deeper than that | |
And I' m keepin' a Gat and let my Tecs blast quick | |
So why the you sittin' back stressin' of the next man' s shit | |
Cause I' m the in' one and only | |
And you busters can' t get on me | |
You' re in danger you don' t know me | |
I' m a stranger not your homie | |
You know ya' ll don' t know about me | |
But check it out | |
Chorus: | |
Run up on this fool and get your head split | |
And if you don' t know | |
You better ask somebody you' d better ask somebody | |
That' s right | |
Niggas wanna trip I' m hard to the bone | |
They all on my dick so let' s get it goin' on | |
Verse 2: | |
Dressed up in these street clothes | |
I' m ready to beat hos this game is lethal | |
I' m sellin' rocks tryin' to move up to sellin' kilos | |
But these hoes and negros | |
Be tryin' to stop my progress | |
But when you' re in my way | |
You' s just the victim I' ma rob next | |
And it' s a terrible thang I gotta up your crew | |
And have you goin' thru unbearable pain | |
I' m in the game and they claim that I' m on the run | |
I own a gun 16 shots bust up on this one | |
Yeah mother ers I' m the one | |
With beats from the streets | |
So don' t talk that shit and be scared to come to me | |
I know them punk ass niggas be jockin' my flows | |
But when I turn my back they just yap like some gossippin' hoes | |
I guess I ain' t got no true friends but I got a few wins | |
To pay for paint and put this AMG' s on my new Benz | |
Them jealous niggas steady guessin' and wonderin' | |
Tryin' to catch up but stuck stressin' and wonderin' | |
I' m never stumblin' just bundlin' up my cash | |
I gotta last so I don' t give a to blast | |
My mind be havin' sinister thoughts | |
I guess it' s because I always mug when the ministers talk | |
I' m heavyweightin' capable to breakin' a fool' s neck | |
So quit tryin' to figure out what this nigga gon do next | |
Chorus: | |
Verse 3: | |
I ain' t sleepin' I' m just creepin' | |
I just lurks in the dark I' m that nigga Ant Banks | |
With beats burps and them farts | |
But niggas wanna start flashin' and trippin' on my lifestyle | |
Cause I' m makin' cash and they ass stuck up on a pipe now | |
I write down facts so the saps think that I' m dissin' | |
But listen guess this is just an addiction for nonfiction | |
And niggas break on the tracks and fat tapes | |
That Max makes so homie wait and get your fact straight | |
But act fake and end up bendin' from back brakes | |
A busted head, a broken leg and a cracked face | |
I can' t let him live | |
Crashed up his ribs with my body blows | |
I got him froze tremblin' cold with his snotty nose | |
You chose not to have a hustle now you desirin' mines | |
Tryin' to find out my mix but I got those clips for inquirin' minds | |
Them tirin' lines I' m hearin' ain' t phasin' me | |
I was raised a G and that' s what I' m paid to be | |
So them suckers with them false accusations | |
Lookin' for my location tryin' to stop my operation | |
You wastin' time cause a Nine is my protection | |
Get off my dick flexin' and keep on guessin' | |
Nigga, you know what I' m sayin' | |
You can' t with this here | |
Chorus: | |
Outro: | |
Like that there | |
Keep these mother ers guessin' | |
From 95 til infinity nigga | |
Stay off my mother in' dick | |
Peace out |