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DJ Noodles - Cant U Tell lyrics

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NOTES: You can "click to edit" if you feel a line is wrong. Submissions ARE NOT immediately published. Please be patient and I will get to them. BTW: I can lock songs (and worse) now, beware.

Can't you tell that I came from the dope game? (x10)

(Yeah)
Dope game raised me (raised me)
I've been gettin' money since the 80s (80s)
While Mamma was tryin' to tame me
I was makin' sure some fool paid me (paid me)
While rap guys tell fiction
I'm in the courtroom beatin' the conviction'
I play hard in Detroit like a Piston (what else?)
My weed bags be chunky, call it Lipton
(Lipton?) Lipton, homie what it be like
Sit the pot in the ice so it freeze right
[rock, rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]
Take the cookie out, put it on the bounty
I'm from the go-game, homie Kings County (what else?)
Master criminal activity
Flatness squeeze, *clack* *clack* willingly
Credit card scams, I bust checks on 'em
Anything to get green like the Jets on 'em

Can't you tell that I came from the dope game? (x4)

I swing bars like dope, blow (blow)
My 16s be the O's, my flow be the coke (coke)
Money ain't green even though I got soap (sheeet)
The trap house lookin' like a ski slope (damn)
Money (what?) that is my wife
Put a ring on my wallet and guard it with my life (with my life)
[rock, rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]
You see the coup, the products in the muffler
Call me Larry Flynt, Jack I'm a hustler (ah hah hah hah)
When it comes to this shit I'm a monster (what?)
And when it comes to this shit you win an Oscar (Oscar)
Welch ass nigga you's a simp' (simp')
Me, I'm a pimp, leg's fine but I limp (limp)
Got 'caine, candy red rain (what?)
Dig on Beyonce, I settle for Celine (yeah)
Cash heavy gotta move it with a crane (crane)
My bread crazy, bank account insane (yeah)

Can't you tell that I came from the dope game? (x4)

When Trazz on the track it's certified crack (uh)
Baggie hit the streets you can watch your money stack (stack)
[rock, rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]
Rap's like the crack game, now I'm in a trap (trap)
Pay me 30 stacks, see your money double back (uh)
My 16s come out dopin' in Codeine (what?)
Want first from Trazz, get your biggin' in protein (yeah)
You's a D-boy, beats I destroy
Flick my style and watch the pockets key Lloyd
Whether rap or crack all the same (same)
Heroin flow, got it runnin' through my veins (veins)
Stay in my post while they fiend for a dose (dose)
And see my product travel all the way down the coast (ooh)
It's like a virus, they got to try this
I love the green you'd swear I was Irish (Irish)
I write my bars and sell them by the jars (jars)
The fiends here can't get enough, like El da Barge, know why?

[rock, rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]
Can't you tell that I came from the dope game? (x4)

Now you can A-Town stomp or you can rock away
But when I was hustlin' I never gave a rock away
They say St. Louis raised me, certified 80s baby
Been through a lot of shit for months, like a pregnant lady
All I remember is Crip and Blood emphasis
Some nigga's made it out but others we remember them
But on the better I know we all gettin' money now
My past was no joke but everything funny now
I'm talkin' stress-free Bentley is Nestle
Mr. What-the-hook-goin'-be (move her Lee,) that's me
Spendin' all money, sometimes on your honey
Takin' turns for me, she makin' that to-go money
I'm glad I'm smart enough not to do a lot of stuff
[rock, rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]
Never had to prove that the young dude was hard enough
Even though I came from the city where I came from
Moves made all around me but I ain't sayin' nothin'

Can't you tell that I came from the dope game? (x4)

Can't you tell that I came from the dope game
150 grams of soda mixed with Cocaine
The Iron Chef, I whip it up in Hell's Kitchen (tell 'em)
Shit it's all in the wrist, boy I'm nice with it (hah)
Get a coffee pot hot, drop some ice in it
Take it out, chop it down, put a price with it (yeah)
Frank Lucas had the blue magic
I'm your freeway Rick, I move traffic
I'm a hustler baby, things tryin' talk me down
[rock, rap, hip-hop and R&B lyrics found on beckerist.com]
I'm like fuck, you pay me
Funds got bigger, guns got bigger
The block got dry then we robbin' 'em dilla's (chyeah)
When they come through, then we at it again
Cookin' pies, do or die, but we at it to win
Got goons that'll bust, tell 'em where and when
Wide city dope boy, I got money to spend motherfucker

Can't you tell that I came from the dope game? (x9)


Too long to put in the title, but this song features
Red Cafe, Hot Rod, Trazz, Murphy Lee and Jay Rock

Send broken links, requests & corrections: here.

 
I'll put something cool here eventually...maybe
DJ Noodles - Cant U Tell lyrics on Beckerist.com