I knooooooowwwww, I know I can't be stooooopped!
[Verse 1]
Yea, uh, Deala, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh...
The definition of trillness, outta the South
Just that real sh*t, not anotha n*gga runnin' his mouth
Pay attention, I'll explain why I can't be stopped
And how I came to be the man on every neighborhood block
Bronson, a young fly n*gga straight out the slums
Candy paint on Monte Carlos in the decks where I'm from
Remember when I was first back from pullin' the first grab
Or when the crack came I was the n*gga with the first slam
Who wants the 'yours truly', y'all cannot school me
Put so much coke on the streets, Pepsi tried to sue me
Wearin' a throwback, I dropped faces and ? crack
And if I can't rap, the trap is where I'll go back
This just one dimension, of a n*gga spittin
You're now welcomed to the dawnin of a new beginnin
I'm the quarterback of crack because it's logical
Don't want that yay, I'll switch up the plate, call me the honorable
Deala not yo average di*k ridin' b*tch n*gga
I'm more like a Benz 6 ridin' sick n*gga
You know you the ??? darkskinned, heavily tatted
??? spark ten, heavily gatted
C'mon dawg, you can't f*ck with me, leave it alone
I got killaz on standby, breathe and it's on
If this truly is a game then I'm the legend who wrote it
And be careful cuz the bases ain't the only thing loaded
I knooooooowwwww, I know I can't be stooooopped!
(I can't be stopped, I can't be stopped!)
[Verse 2]
Chrome wheelz on the 600, nuthin' but wood
I-Double, DTP, we ain't nuthin' but hood
You still tryina get a deal, but yo time's runnin' out
You diarrhea in yo ass, the sh*t's not comin' out
Okay, you dropped a lil' album, still got no ends
I made more in a month doin 'Cris ad libs
Do a background check on me, see how I live
Don't let that Mac ground spit homey, think of yo kids
Down hea, we for real, not just wordz and a rap
Deala b*tch! The same love in the burbs or the trap
I can bang witchu, slang witchu, ride when I need to
Drop somethin', cop somethin', slide when I need to
You don't know me and all the warz that I've fought
In the club, f*ck the bottle, whole bar gets bought
Bronson! I'mma made man, you do the knowledge
All you is just middle school, see me in college
pus*y rimz are not legal, f*ck a learnin' permit
Me, I ride on grown men and the mirror's the tint
Y'all n*ggas not quiet Ludacris, nowhere near Shawnna
A mill ??? Fate, and Tity some otha drama
And Tit' needs to get the title let alone the respect
On every block I been on, not only the deck
It's the same sh*t, different day, I'm stuck in my ways
DTP, we run the streets until I'm stuck in the grave
I knooooooowwwww, I know I can't be stooooopped!
(Repeat 4X)