Opio - For Those Who Don't Know lyrics

[Opio] I told 'em - they wouldn't listen! I told 'em - I tried to tell 'em I told 'em - they wouldn't listen! I told 'em - I tried to tell 'em Yo, I'm deep in the cosmos, almost light years But I'm right here, never by queers, it's all old Dwellin in the chairs of the balcony, shoutin these Vo-cals, so loud, they blow out the whole crowd Thousand weak minds try to come my way Only talkin sodomy and gunplay, I'm like a sun ray Rhymes pure energy, aligns with energy And some say the chemistry is like the d**h penalty It's me, unfair, cause you trapped and snared In a system designed to collapse you player (look over there) Mathematicians and astrophysicists Try to calculate my position, I'm on a mission for collision 'til all skyscrapers on the earth quake Shifting continental plates with my mental straight (great) I'm a natural, f**in up your high Like a bad capsule or sniffin ya with crushed gla** (oh no) The hole in [Hook] The ozone layer gettin thinner The world is movin faster, everything is quicker - they wouldn't listen! I won't slip or fall 'til I hit the hall of fame Or die in vain, they can't stop the strain I tried to tell 'em - it was all the same 'til the coppers came Even Cochran sayin they cain't stop us mayne I told 'em - they wouldn't listen! I told 'em - I tried to tell 'em [Opio] b**hes hate me; callin me a egomaniac But women love me; admire how my brain reacts And adapts to, each situation Scenarios I'm facin, those lariats and chains Could not restrain, the way I slice through the air Like a kingfish, or a bullet when you squeeze triggers From the heater sizzler, in the grasp of an insecure man He'll end up with blood on his hands Get on the stand start snitchin the intricate details Cause in jail he's the same as a female! I tell chicks - YO, send me a e-mail Just because I'm worldwide, don't blow up my NexTel Sex sells, so without a video with all them silly hoes I wonder would he go gold or get ten sales? Me, I see about thirty thousand They still be bumpin my sh** in urban housing Now, multiply that by five You'll see I'm not greedy, rapper survival So I'm libel to pat your pockets if you don't got my dough Show promoters like Frasier and Niles s**ers, manic-depressives, don't try it We don't need a silencer or a side door Get stole on and stomped right there on the floor Hardcore, or hard wood, or linoleum, or carpet Don't start it, we throwin 'em Wet 'em up with petroleum then bounce rock skate To the Waldorf Astoria, with chitlins from Georgia That want a late night orgy and more euphoria - I told 'em [Hook]