Lyrics to
We Didn’t Want You To Know

Released by John Cena in 2005
From the Album: You Can't See Me |

This version of We Didn’T Want You To Know was released by John Cena in 2005.

Our Decade Lyrics John Cena profile has all of the We Didn’T Want You To Know lyrics from 2005 and many more songs from the John Cena discography that we have on file.

Here's more interesting things in songs and lyrics tied to John Cena or about the 2000s in general.

If you don’t know by now, we runnin the game
Neck froze, got a mill’ on the chain
Show respect to Cen’ and Trade
Cut the check, believe we’re paid
Y’all waitin for the single to drop
Look down on the charts cause we sittin on top
Everybody else feelin the flow
If you don’t know by now (we didn’t want you to know)

Get nasty, doin dirt don’t put it past me
“Appetite for Destruction,” +Axl+ couldn’t +Slash+ me
I got hounds that found where your stash be
They play my sound in towns, rats harass me
They know I’m nice, they ain’t bettin on you
That’s like playin roulette and bettin on blue
Cena gon’ blow – you goin no place
Snatch your dame, show her my old face
Still walk tall with a staggered stance
Plus I hold on the club like I was Bagger Vance
Make you breakdance for me, have you doin headspins
Ship you to D.C., covered in Redskins
Catch me in a classic drop low with the wine paint
Plus I’m classic on the flow, every line great
Believe me, yo the speech is tight
I lay you down like when you sleep at night, big business

Y’all are cowards y’all found power and cower
The gunpowder a thousand shots an hour leavin blocks devoured
Have your family prayin for your survival
Bust shots and get cops bent out control like a spiral
Man get the fuck on if you got bangers involved
Man get the fuck on and keep your chambers revolved
Man get the fuck on and get your weight up
Man get the fuck on or you get laid up
Sippin BNB out the sceptre
It’s not Trademarc to you dog it’s still mister
Sophisticated, and Marc’s never stuck up
I know when to shoot my mouth off and when to shut the fuck up
Every rhyme I write, worth bitin
Every room I’m in, worth micin
I’m artistic, you must have missed it
When I said every rapper sucks I was bein optimistic

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Trademarc’s mind is dilated
Highly rated, madly envied, that mean we kindly hated
The nightcrawler brawl and have you missin
when we drag your body out to sea like fishermen
and takin everything that’s glistenin
So run your chain or your dame, it’s all the same
Just a verb exchanged – you listenin?
Man, I never leak what I think
And never sleep cause you miss the point of life when you blink

Fuck with the kid I’ll leave you laid up in intensive care
This monopoly, I ain’t got intent to share
When it’s time to do business, I got no friends
A true hustler, burn the candle at both ends
If anybody on the scene doubt
I show ’em so much green, you think I’m farmin fuckin bean sprouts
Wrist iced when I’m cracked ya mold
Cause revenge is a dish that is best served (cold)


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