Last To Know - DJ JS-1, Tonedeff

Yo, I am the omnipotent, all knowing

Haha, yo, JS man, I think you should try scratching with the other hand

Don’t ask, I just know

When did everyone become a motherfuckin' expert?

Source of all knowledge

Center of the network

Absolutely phoney, they pose and dispense their guesswork

Ask 'em if they know when they don’t and they give you the yes first

And everyday it gets worse

The next person to give me a lecture

Tellin' me why my head hurts, gets dentures

Looks like 'Little Miss Know It All' gave up the booty to 'Mr.

Told Ya So'

To save her cherry but he was mistaken on which hole to poke and had you

A bit of a snafu

Considering critical people like you were the first to predict the bad news

The sins and taboos

The type of morons that all deny when they’re wrong

And wouldn’t get nothin' outta this verse if they bought the rights to the song

But that’s aiight

I don’t oppose advice or close my mind for

Guided notes to the blind, I’ll open my eyes to quotes from a wise source

But I’m supposed to rely on stoners ridin' on they high horse?

I don’t think so!

And nor does my court

Go order yours

You bore me

«Everybody knows… but me»

I try to tell ya but

«Everybody knows… but me»

Yo son, wish I could help ya but

«Everybody knows… but me»

I suppose I’m hopeless cause

«Everybody knows… but me»

But who knows, who knows

New Jacks stayin' paid but my apartment’s gettin' teenier

Brag that they hate fame and then divulge it to the media

These cats aim mainly just to salt the shit they feedin' ya

They facts change daily, son they walkin' Wikipedias

And I’m often disobedient and plot to rebel

And won’t follow the good advice that I’ve always offered myself

It’s constantly shelved

Yet everyone still wants to share their philosophy’s, well

If I humor them all there’s no way I could possibly fail, right?

«Man, you should be famous.»

«No doubt, I appreciate it.»

«Yo, keep it underground for life.»

«Nah of course, I’d love to be paid less.»

These lames peck at ya sorta like piranhas

So I roll with the punches in my recordings like Rihanna

«Why don’t you tour with Common?»

«Awesome, more I never thought of.»

«You should ghostwrite for Ke$ha.»

«Son, I’d rather be drawn and quartered by Chihuahuas.»

«Dumb it down like Jay.»

«I'm too smart to lower my prowess.»

«Just get a track from Dr. Dre.»

«Alright, well hold up while I call him.»

«You got his number?

I don’t.»

If the answers, «No» then jam the phone right in your fuckin' pie hole

Till it kills the dial tone

Cause I know, you mean well

And the crime isn’t that

But money you makin' up answers to questions I didn’t ask

And then to disguise it as fact, pssst c’mon on son

That’s lower than my balls hung on a hot summer’s day runnin' through Tulsa

But if you crave insight on how to be great on the mic

Then you’d be an idiot not to take my advice, right?

But apparently

«Everybody knows… but me»

I try to tell ya but

«Everybody knows… but me»

Yo son, wish I could help ya but

«Everybody knows… but me»

I suppose I’m hopeless cause

«Everybody knows… but me»

But who knows, who knows

The world got a secret that they wanna tell ya

A full proof cure all that they wanna sell ya

Believe it or not it’s all an act to control

When people act like they know when they actually don’t

I said The world got a secret that they wanna tell ya

A full proof cure all that they wanna sell ya

Believe it or not it’s all an act to control

When people act like they know when they actually don’t

Ya know?