Who Knew Lyrics - Professional Rapper - Lil Dicky

I like to play it cool like I'm not that 

On the low, who'd assume that I got that 

I don't know, but the dude with the tall frappe 

Looking all aloof being all that 

Even Babe Ruth wouldn't call that 

I don't even sweat it though 

They been hesitant as if my credit low 

And shit'll hit them quicker than an edible 

I'm 'bout to run for Senate ho, you ain't even centerfold 

Been on top of cheese, I ain't talking 'bout oregano 

I'm talking 'bout your cheddar homie, revel in that 

I'll hit a college and I'm fucked, like I'm pledging a frat 

They 'bout to silhouette my nuts on American flags 

Estoy contento, muy estupendo 

Better hearse word to rent-a-car, Dicky Tony K 

Y'all the Le Batard speaking to you lames, that's a seminar 

I'm straight like a pleasant bar, ain't nobody ready for my repertoire 

I wasn't getting credit like a debit card 

But never mind, had to give them time to adapt 

I'm kind of like a rap rendition of a fry in a wrap 

Just try it as that 

You rappers Rebel Wilson's vagina, you stank! 

I take it back, I don't know that ho 

And bro they used to 

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Look around the boy, wouldn't raised they head 

Now they looking at the boy like the main event 

He don't even got a rap sheet, looking like a mathlete 

How the fuck is he the one that come in with the crack 

We like "Who knew, who knew?" 

Used to look at me like "who you, who you?" 

Now they look at me like "Who knew, who knew?" 

Now it's Dicky with this, who knew, who knew? 

Now they look at me like 

I am hip hop's Heisenberg 

Young boy got dough for a quiet nerd 

I am rap game, Walter White 

You might get killed thinking that he all polite 

Photos 

Buzz around the city, coming out of Philly 

I'm about to get a milli, being me that's word to milli 

I'm looking super silly, but cooking like at Chili's 

You look at me like "Really?" but I look at you like "Who that?" 

Oh you new here, I'm the bomb 

Ok I'm Lebron, ok I'm the one 

Ok all that shit confusing that's a quandry 

What you call a pussy with a movement, that's a Ghandi 

I'm tryna get better but science preventing 

Because I'm undeniably clever, the highest of levels 

I'm high in a sweater but rhyming like I'm lying in pepper 

Don't mind the endeavor, I bet I do better than veterans 

Cheddaring, let him on Letterman 

Get him on L and I'm on, boy 

I think I need a therapist the way I get in my dome 

Doing D like they was Syracuse, when they up in they zone 

Used to load it on chrome, now I really ball 

Living like a fucking letter man, never mailing the song 

Though the dime flow rubbing combos in Tom's shoes 

With blonde hoes getting Peyton like the Broncos 

I'm on ho, vanilla looking but the rest of y'all the John Does 

It's pretty odd bro, cause they used to 

Look around the boy, wouldn't raised they head 

Now they looking at the boy like the main event 

He don't even got a rap sheet, looking like a mathlete 

How the fuck is he the one that come in with the crack 

We like "Who knew, who knew?" 

Used to look at me like "who you, who you?" 

Now they look at me like "Who knew, who knew?" 

Now it's Dicky with this, who knew, who knew? 

Now they look at me like 

I am hip hop's Heisenberg 

Young boy got dough for a quiet nerd 

I am rap game, Walter White 

You might get killed thinking that he all polite 

Get up off my dick, ho 

That's an unassuming dick, though 

Get up off my dick, ho 

That's an unassuming dick, though 

("Who knew, who knew?" 

Used to look at me like "Who you, who you?") 

Get up off my dick, ho 

That's an unassuming dick, though 

(Now they look at me like "Who knew, who knew?" 

Now it's Dicky with this, who knew, who knew?) 

Get up off my dick, ho 

That's an unassuming dick, though