I Know You Don't Love Me

I know you don’t love me, you ain’t the same when Jay-Z's around
I know you don’t love me, you scream and holler when Eminem’s in town
I know you don’t love me, Snoop put me up on how the hoes get down
I know you like Nelly, like Kelly, Ludacris
Try to run game on me, you punk-bitch
I know you don’t love me
Gators and ostrich, you know the apparel
You could see my outfit on the Discovery Channel
I’m a stunner, my bitches trained like robots
They sniff coke, deep throat, and they hold out Glocks
It’s the brick-copper, the ounce chopper
645 NASCAR driver that’s known to spit lava
I’m in Cancun, with a model in the bedroom
Her pussy tight like an airplane bathroom
Talk out your mouth piece, baby pah
The baby A-R will make it hot like South Beach
I move like, Bin Laden armed with them hammers
In that new Jag wagon, with James Bond vagrant
Medina all — red; mira give me — head
Bad bitch, look like Eva Mendes
I’m a gangsta, general, comrade nigga
Drug money, blood money in a brown bag nigga
I know you don’t love me, you ain’t the same whenever Banks around
I know you don’t love me, you scream and holler whenever Usher’s in town
I know you don’t love me, see Dre put me up on how the hoes get down
I know you like Buck and that Dirty South shit
Try to run game on me you punk bitch
I know you don’t love me
I’m in the candy-painted Range, Cardier frame
Six-by-nines playing so I can hear e’ry thang
Heavy on the gas homie, hogging up two lanes
The navigation got me to where I’m gon' be staying
The trunk full of something that can get a nigga life
So my seatbelt’s on, and I’m stopping at the light
I done been to Queens before but not behind the wheel
I’m a country nigga, ain’t this many buildings where I live
But the business gotta be handled so where this coward at
We leave a couple niggas laying, bet them bitches holla back
Ever since Yayo been home it’s been on
Smacking niggas up, employers is getting sent home
On this battlefield, you know, it’s kill or be killed
Leavin niggas with bulletholes and hospital bills
This is how it is homie, La Costa Nostra
I won’t stop til I’m on a «Wanted» poster, motherfuckers
I know you don’t love me, you ain’t the same when Lil' Jon’s around
I know you don’t love me, you scream and holler when Slim Thug’s in town
I know you don’t love me, yeah Em put me up on how the hoes get down
I ain’t got time for a groupie-ass bitch
Try to run game and they ain’t about shit
I know you don’t love me
You should thank the Lord if the ray gon' getcha
Cause the sawed-off'll microwave a nigga like Adolf Hitler
Fuck pressure, I enter the ring calm
I’m nicer than them Japanese niggas in ping-pong
Look at my ring don, lease a 100 K worth of bling on
Smoking the same buddha as the courtroom shooter
I got the mind of a genius; the rag-white Jag
Backhand like Venus', jab like Zab, and ya bitch
I’m making her knees knock in the lab
Nut on her, and send her to the weed spot in the cab
And I don’t hate all music, I just hate y’alls
And I hear you when you whisper, got the ear of Ray Charles
I’m ahead of my class fucker
And I only serve a bitch once, so they treat my dick like the Last Supper
Niggas calling out my name in vain
When someone jab to the jaw be they claim to fame
I know you don’t love me, you ain’t the same whenever Banks around
I know you don’t love me, you scream and holler whenever Usher’s in town
I know you don’t love me, see Dre put me up on how the hoes get down
I know you like Buck and that Dirty South shit
Try to run game on me, you punk bitch
I know you don’t love me, I know you don’t love me