Song Lyrics

[DMG]
Call me psychotive but I'm bad, nigga yo!
And I'ma do ya bad, black
And when I come, I'm bustin up niggas to hear me, black
Ya should of never let a nigga see
If there was niggas and bitches and bitches and niggas that hated me
Huh, I waited for my date to come-of-age
And now I'm of-age I can't escape the fucking front page
So I guess that nigga D is up to hit again
I kicks the funky shit and coke, and stupid like I'm Gilligan
I'm P, supposed to hit a lick for a jack
The only thing I gained is the pain of niggas coming back
Nigga looking for they shit, aggravated and pissed
Niggas they can't f*ck with my clique
I'm here to break em off for chunk
A D-E-A-T-H-L-Y, a motherfucking punk
And I be rolling with the brass
Don't answer with the ziggers in your hood, he break your neck to roll apass, nigga
Don't even stop to say "What up?" cause I bust for the f*ck
And pay some quick to light a motherfucker up
Next time you stop me on your block, I hope you leave the place
Or be the next to meet the Lord face-to-face
Nigga, I ain't the one to take no bullshit
Cause see a nigga like the D is game to empty out the full clip
So when I come for ya, act like ya know
Sitting motherfucking smooth to the curb but you don't hear do'

[Chorus]
I'ma bring ya to ya asshole (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Busting on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me do'
(But you don't hear me do')
Bring ya to ya asshole (uh)
Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
Busting on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me do'

[DMG]
It's time to f*ck em up, here it comes, blast, nigga!
Thump to your chest and they coming out your ass, nigga
I grew apart, livin my life as a criminal
Niggas G to kill but still I see that you don't hear me do'
So I'ma serve it to ya fat, hit the deck, mate
Hit the deck mate, call me Flipper when I checkmate
D-um diverting nine, Tre-9, full Glock, Glock
My Glock making sounds and it don't stop
So nigga pass the swisha quick
And I'ma blaze til the motherfucker burn me off my fingertips
'Cause, see a nigga gotta saty high
I try to smoke til I can't smoke and then I won't smoke
But still I got my fingers on my shit
And click, click, click, ya die, die, die, ya dead, bitch!
You tried to test the wrong nigga, be a tested
Straight from St.Paul but clocking G's down in Texas
Some think I'm talk 'cause I play it cool
But I ain't the average motherfucker, I do the shit that niggas won't do
Huh, like pistol whip a woodie for his bank
Then after that I gate and grab his bitch and do the samething
And I will pain up the asshole
Collecting grips on my drips as I stroll but you don't hear me do'

[Chorus]

[DMG]
Ain't no mistaking what I'm bringing, you motherfuckers still ain't had enough
So I'ma continue to break you off for proper ass chunk
May it be 9, may it be a gauge, may it be a shank
Any way you come I'm in your motherfucking shit, mate!
Huh, a nigga busting caps, smoking fires
Quick to bring it to your ass and keep on going til your ass die
And it ain't no running down them backstreets
Cause I got slugs to catch em with Carl Lewis on the track meet
Huh, and still you want to test a nigga so
Audi 5, nigga, hate to see ya go but you don't hear me do'

[Chorus]

Yeah, check it!

Joseph Johnson, D Jones, Tony Randle

The duration of You Don't Hear Me Doe is 2:42 minutes and seconds.