2 Eleven
I Can’t Tell
[Chorus: 211]
You say he a gangster, I can't tell
They say you got hoes, dawg I can't tell
Say you got big money, I can't tell
N***a I can't tell
I can't tell

[Verse 1: Jay Rock]
I'm getting money n***a, you can't tell
50 stacks in my pocket from the crack I sell
I got bitches, n***a you can't tell
See my name on her ass, I blew her back out well
Yeah these n***as be killing me, saying they make change
Only knots that you got is up in your shoestrings
Me and 211, n***a we shoot things
Out the Benz on the 10, hogging up 2 lanes
Y'all entrepreneurs, thеm haters hate to see it
[?] evеry n***a wanna be it
Say he got a coupe, but we don't ever see it
Only time that he ball, is only on the weekend
That boy Jay Rock, you know he stay creepin
Behind black tints that he punching on the heater
Back to the bricks, where my homies dwell
[?] shit so swell

[Chorus: 211] x2
You say he a gangster, I can't tell
They say you got hoes, dawg I can't tell
Say you got big money, I can't tell
N***a I can't tell
I can't tell
[Verse 2: 211]
N***a say he with the business, but I can't vouch
Dude ran like a bitch when the Glock came out
Took 5 to the back when them shots rang out
Talkin bout he from the hood, but he don't hang out
N***a please, I been banging since Pac came out
[?] black tops [?] layed out
You know the Bloods on deck, if me and Rock came out
Yeah, I hustle up and watch the guap pay out
Aye, Blow the whistle, these n***as ain't official
Subscribe to the magazine and you can get your issue
You know I'm good from [?] to the wood
You can ask about me on every block in the hood
All pussy, you n***as like two dykes
And know he won't bust a grape in a fruit fight
I got a resume in gang bang history
Quit lying to them hoes n***a, you a mystery

[Chorus: 211]x2
You say he a gangster I can't tell
They say you got hoes, dawg I can't tell
Say you got big money, I can't tell
N***a I can't tell
I can't tell

[Verse 3: 211]
Master Kush, Remy Martin and Red Bull
I clown n***as in the streets like a damn fool
Dope boy shit n***a, I get bread too
If I was you and seen me, I'd probably hate too
24 inch wheels Cadillac grills
Authentic with it, n***a I'm mad real
Sit back, let me show you how to stack bills
My n***as ballin in the hood, off of crack deals
Don't go there, n***a ain't from nowhere
Gang banging under false pretense
Cause if you don't make dollars, and it don't make sense
How you wife that bitch and call yourself a pimp?
[?] roll my blunt tight
I live a thug life, counting money all night
Aye, and n***as scared to seen what [?] like
Head coach show the players how to ball right
[Chorus: 211] x2
You say he a gangster, I can't tell
They say you got hoes, dawg I can't tell
Say you got big money, I can't tell
N***a I can't tell
I can't tell