Never Let Them Know Your Next Move Lyrics

Never Let Them Know Your Next Move Lyrics sung by The Notorious B.I.G. represents the English Music Ensemble. The name of the song is Ten Crack Commandments by The Notorious B.I.G.

Never Let Them Know Your Next Move Lyrics

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It’s the ten crack commandments, what?
N^^ga can’t tell me nothing about this coke
Can’t tell me nothing about this crack, this weed, for my hustlin’ n^^gas
N^^gas on the corner I ain’t forget you n^^gas, my triple beam n^^gas

I’ve been in this game for years, it made me a animal
There’s rules to this s^^t, I wrote me a manual
A step-by-step booklet for you to get
Your game on track, not your wig pushed back
Rule Nombre Uno: never let no one know
How much dough you hold ’cause you know
The cheddar breed jealousy ‘specially
If that man f^^ked up, get yo’ a^^ stuck up
Number Two: never let ’em know your next move
Don’t you know bad boys move in silence and violence?
Take it from your highness (Uh-huh)
I done squeezed mad clips at these cats for they bricks and chips
Number Three: never trust nobody
Your moms’ll set that a^^ up, properly gassed up
Hoodied and masked up, s^^t, for that fast buck
She be laying in the bushes to light that a^^ up
Number Four: I know you heard this before
“Never get high on your own supply”
Number Five: never sell no crack where you rest at
I don’t care if they want an ounce, tell ’em, “Bounce!”
Number Six: that godd^^n credit? Dead it
You think a crackhead paying you back? S^^t, forget it
Seven: this rule is so underrated
Keep your family and business completely separated
Money and blood don’t mix like two d^^ks and no b^^ch
Find yourself in serious s^^t
Number Eight: never keep no weight on you
Them cats that squeeze your guns can hold jums too
Number Nine shoulda been Number One to me:
If you ain’t gettin’ bagged, stay the f^^k from police
If n^^gas think you snitchin’, they ain’t tryna listen
They be sittin’ in your kitchen, waiting to start hittin’
Number Ten: a strong word called ‘consignment’
Strictly for live men, not for freshmen
If you ain’t got the clientele, say, “Hell no!”
‘Cause they gon’ want they money rain, sleet, hail, snow
Follow these rules you’ll have mad bread to break up
If not, twenty-four years on the wake up
Slug hit your temple, watch your frame shake up
Caretaker did your makeup, when you passed
Your girl f^^ked my man Jake up
Heard in three weeks, she sniffed a whole half a cake up
Heard she s^^k a good d^^k, and can hook a steak up
Gotta go, gotta go, more pies to bake up, word up (Uh)

Crack King, Frank Wiz-zhite

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Video Song

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