Music Video

They Don't Know (214) (feat. B-Dash & Jakecon)
Watch They Don't Know (214) (feat. B-Dash & Jakecon) on YouTube

Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Brenton Michael Barge
Brenton Michael Barge
Songwriter
Brandon Jones
Brandon Jones
Songwriter
James McCain
James McCain
Songwriter

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 **** 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 **** 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 **** off Kiest & Polk
He didn't know that I was a real Bloody ass ****
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 **** might call it Mic City
Know a couple gangsters that's getting it
All of my **** counting them digits
Two one four, my **** really getting it
My **** really getting it
These **** don't know about two one four, man
My **** 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 **** 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 **** 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 ****
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 ****, 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
Written by: Brandon Jones, Brenton Michael Barge, James McCain
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