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Can't U Tell
Lil' Flip


Can't U Tell Lyrics


Ay I know alot of y'all niggaz wonderin', haha

is this nigga doin good? (yup)

is this nigga really ridin spinners? (yup), hah

I tell them niggaz man - can't you tell a nigga doin good man

can't you tell, Lil' Flip is in the building

we got Dj Squeeky on the track...Gudda, Gudda - Clover G's

[Chorus 2X - Flip]

We throw bows, we blow dro

we ride blades and low pro's

umm....I heard you doin good

nigga can't you tell

oh you still in the hood, cause you ain't doin too well

[Verse 1 - Flip]

Now when I pull up in my drop, one switch make it rock

one switch make it hop, the other switch make it stop

I got wood grain on my dash, paper out the ass

I don't ride around with wallets I carry paper bags

ride around with tech's, endo, with a vest

Giovanni's on my Hummer, and spinners on my Lex

I rep Houston, Tex where niggaz bang Screw

we ride candy paint nigga what about yo' crew

got a piece and a chain, a watch and a ring

ten thousand square foot home, plus a spot for my plane

I spitt game to hoes to get 'em out they clothes

cause that's how it go when all ya jewelry froze

I been pimpin for awhile, I'm a hot boy like Nile

my jacket is mink - but my shoes are crocodile

I'm thuggin forever, fifty karats in my bezzel

but I'm like 'Trillville' cause y'all can't get on "my level"


[Verse 2 - Gudda]

Uhhh I'm in the club buckin, f*ck it I'm a throw some bows

hit the bar and get bent and go and f*ck some hoes

I'm this bitch actin wild you know how Gudda do it

I got my pistol on my hip incase I get into it

niggaz drinkin that 'Incredible Hulk'
now he drunk and he think he the "Incredible Hulk"

uhhh they gon'have to drag him out this bitch

then the police gon'come and drag me out this bitch.... (yea, Gudda)

[Verse 3 - Supa]

I'm doin good and it feels great

I'm in the hood H2 and it's charcoal gray

supa dup'fly, boy I'm supa dup'frisby

give a f*ck about the name just know he gets busy

mouth of the south you know ya know me well

hollow shells - swell you like a macaroni shell

f*ck you haters, the chains is off

Clover chains is on...we off the chains lil'boy (yea)


[Verse 4 - MJG]

Uh, yea, come on....

MJG, pimp tight and Lil' Flip got a hit on the chart

but if a girl wanna get on the chart, shit I'll still put a bitch on the block

you don't really want that really now tell the truth, slow ya role

you got the cars and clothes but you still don't know ya hoes

I'm a Hoe - ologist I dissect the bitch and find the problem

I got solutions for a problem I'm here to resolve 'em

pull up in a 1969 Impala whites over blacks they harder

everyday I wake up early tryna make a dollar, I think I wanna pop my collar

could it be I'm just a natural born with alittle dose of pimpin

oooh nothin but motionless women strap up put alittle life up in 'em

I don't pretend I mean exactly what I mean

I don't sell those you can go to sleep and have a dream

when I roll through the dirty south sittin up on my twenty - fo's

breakin me a ciggerillo down...fillin it up with nothin but dro

M - J - f*ckin G representer of the dirty

but I spit it hard enough to make sure that the world heard me


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Songwriter(s): Wesley E. Weston, Marlon J. Goodwin, Sammy Wade, Carl E. Lilly
Record Label(s): 2007 Warner Bros Records Inc for the U S and WEA International Inc for the world outside the U S
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