Dj Quik - Think You Know Me lyrics

[Hook:] You might think that you know me You know where I'm coming from You might think everything's all good But at the end of the day you're all wrong! [Verse 1: Murs:] All blue chuck taylors, blue dodger hat 85 Regal, my daughter in the back I'm just a gangsta to most of y'all On the real we're just hanging on the way to the mall Week days I'm Rn down at kaiser Weekends at church, I'm a youth adviser Just because I'm doing good I can't forget my roots I can never feel right in a tie & suit 501's a plain white "t" and I stay gettin' stopped by the LAPD That's just life growin' up in south central I been done move, but it's not that simple I gotta come back, my grandmomma there Sometimes it's drama, but I really don't care Here's my neighbourhood and I love it Showin' all the little homies you can rise above it! [Hook:] You might think that you know me You know where I'm coming from You might think everything's all good But at the end of the day you're all wrong! [Verse 2: Murs:] All red chuck taylors and red dodger hat Posted up at market with a bottle and gat I'm just a gangsta, that's what they say But on the real homeboy I just had a bad day Ten interviews, no call backs PO askin' me where my job at I'm an ex-kind and almost juiceless I'm a felon, don't mean that I'm stupid Got cut op, tribers in the dope Lost five years of my life as a result In the feds I prayed and I read Anything to keep the system out of my head I read Zinn, Jung, Bukowski You really don't know a damn thing about me I probably gotta higher IQ than you These jobs ain't hiring, what should I do [Hook:] You might think that you know me You know where I'm coming from You might think everything's all good But at the end of the day you're all wrong! [Verse 3: Murs] Black dickies, black Cortez White wife beater, a fresh shaved head I'm just a gangsta, that's what you thinkin' You see me in the crew, posted up by Lincoln You see my tattoos, figure why I bother Really I'm an artist and I got my own palla Hard workin' father, wife and two daughters Strugglin', trying to keep our heads above water I'm a tax payer, I'm bilingual I'm chicano, I'm not an illegal Tryin' to live your American dream But you keep judging me about how I wear my jeans They're 42s, they're starched and they greased I gotta education, I got proper speech I'm from the streets, I'm not less of a man Just trying to get by and do the best that I can! [Hook:] You might think that you know me You know where I'm coming from You might think everything's all good But at the end of the day you're all wrong!