"Fuck What You Think" as written by Robert F. Diggs, T. Hamlin and Richard Stephenson....
Yo, yo, fuck what you think
Fuck what you think

It's about what you know, so fuck what you think
Twenty-one and over to drink
Nineteen and over to fuck
Sixteen and over to pat
A twelve year old kid got bucked

This week inperium flat lay your ass flat as a mattress
Smack your head off the axis, the rhyme fashous
Silencer on the tech-nine shot got your pillow wet
All your bitch say was the black silhouette

Of the dark ninja, lion king of the jungle, simba
Cut the roof to your family tree, timber
We and Dr. Strange in the black reign smokin' chimneys
Phat cappadonna tape stuck inside my benzi

The blue coats is comin', the red coats is comin'
The fed coats is comin', the wet heads is comin'
I heard to dirt was up in the riker's fuckin a female
Co, Wu-tang keep it on the d-low

Third eye is a trillion million watt gigabyte
Insight like bright, can't find this on your website
Everglow superior to your inferior material
Verbal serial murder, givin' you pussy cats material

Injections, lethal injections, ran from house
Left the dictionary, pictionary, the non-fictionary
Ruler zig-zag-zig allah, puzzle like jigsaw
Suggled author bizmark, yo

It's about what you know, so fuck what you think
Twenty-one and over to drink
Nineteen and over to fuck
Sixteen and over to pat
A twelve year old kid got bucked

Ah-yo, rock head niggaz who grab mics for the first time
Get fronted on majority once the god slides in
On the scene, love-love in the place to be
All-American lyrics, the top choice

In this rap market from now why all the way to England
'Cause my click be jinglin' under wu-tang productions
This crook that sell a million, then bounced on outta state
Rap fiends was trapped in cells like hot cakes

Faster than the rate of the earth travel
Which one-hundred-thirty-seven and one third miles per a hour
And peace to the god power for never fallin' for nothin' less
Than a hundred grands and rap with rubberbands placed in

Golden suitcases, slitted across the table
To walk the dogs in the nine-eight, the nine-eight

Yo, I build with the great minds of Africa
Rza, star trek voyager, killah hill side strangler
Captured you in inside thirty-six gas chambers
North American, Arabian, high ? Indian

9th prince convinces his enemies to kill themselves
Like dr. kavorkian, travel like razor satellites
Prepared for battle to rade the castle
Got tackled by the rebels, the plate in my head is heavy metal

Lyrical chain reaction, deadly instruments, run for symantecs
The international civil war assassins
Geological, biochemical, camouflaged nuclear apostles
Sounds possible, 'cause regardless visual

English grammar, mental examiner
I shock the world like the death of Princess Diana
Reverse psychology on technology, accept no apologies
The penalty is to cut off your arms and feet

Poetry teachers are speechers seepin' through the speakers
My fans will become die hard listeners, plus ear bleeders

Fuck what you think
Fuck what you think
Fuck what you think

It's about what you know, so fuck what you think
Twenty-one and over to drink
Nineteen and over to fuck
Sixteen and over to pat
A twelve year old kid got bucked

It's about what you know, so fuck what you think
Twenty-one and over to drink
Nineteen and over to fuck
Sixteen and over to pat
A twelve year old kid got bucked

Word up, fuck what you think
Word up, yo


Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings

"Fuck What You Think" as written by Robert F. Diggs Richard Stephenson

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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Fuck What You Think song meanings
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