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🎵 “I Don’t Know” – Kilo Bizniz

[Hook]
Nah ninja, I don’t know,
I don’t know who shot ya, I don’t know who stabbed ya,
I don’t know who robbed you, I don’t know who stuffed you,
I don’t know who whacked you —
but you thought I knew cuz I owed it to you.


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[Verse 1]
(Ay) They keep askin' Bizniz like I’m court-bound,
I just shrug and light a blunt, that’s the fourth round.
Detectives on my line like “we know you were around,”
I said, “Ninja, I don’t even know who’s in this damn town.”
Street code solid, lips tighter than a vice grip,
Never snitch, I’d rather die on this ice tip.
You want intel? You better find Christ quick,
’Cause talkin’ outta turn is how a ninja get his life clipped.
I seen it all, I just mind mine and puff,
Fake friends talk tough till the ride get rough.
You want names? Nah, I ain’t callin’ no bluff,
Ask around, I’m the reason silence still enough.


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[Hook]
Nah ninja, I don’t know,
I don’t know who shot ya, I don’t know who stabbed ya,
I don’t know who robbed you, I don’t know who stuffed you,
I don’t know who whacked you —
but you thought I knew cuz I owed it to you.


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[Verse 2]
My name floatin’ in rumors like smoke in the breeze,
But I don’t say a word, I’m allergic to police.
They say “Bizniz, you the reason homie rest in peace,”
I said, “Shit, I was countin’ money overseas.”
Keep receipts? Nah, keep my distance,
Ninjas talk slick till they end up missin’.
I move in code, encryption on a mission,
If you ask me again, you might need a mortician.
Trust? Ain’t a soul left I believe,
Even bloodline switch for a bag of weed.
So I move solo, smoke clouds where I breathe,
Ain’t no witness to nothin’ but these pockets I feed.


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[Hook]
Nah ninja, I don’t know,
I don’t know who shot ya, I don’t know who stabbed ya,
I don’t know who robbed you, I don’t know who stuffed you,
I don’t know who whacked you —
but you thought I knew cuz I owed it to you.


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[Bridge]
(Whisper tone)
Maybe I seen somethin’—nah, maybe I didn’t.
Maybe I heard stories—but them tales forbidden.
Loose lips sink ships, better watch where you sittin’,
’Cause the streets got ears and them walls be listenin’.


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[Verse 3]
They say “snitches get stitches,” I give ’em a clinic,
Stay authentic, my silence so prolific.
I ain’t sayin’ shit even if I’m in it,
I’ll plead the fifth, then roll a blunt infinite.
I seen ninjas fold under pressure like napkins,
Cameras flashin’ while they act like has-beens.
Meanwhile, I’m stackin’, quiet assassin,
Only thing I testify is my passion.
No confession, no mention, no link,
You think I owe info? You need a shrink.
Keep my mouth closed, middle finger to the precinct,
I don’t know nothin’, pour the drink.


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[Hook – Final]
Nah ninja, I don’t know,
I don’t know who shot ya, I don’t know who stabbed ya,
I don’t know who robbed you, I don’t know who stuffed you,
I don’t know who whacked you —
but you thought I knew cuz I owed it to you.

(Yeah… but I don’t owe nobody nothin’.)
—Kilo Bizniz, Smoked Out Mafia Music.


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I Don't Know .wav

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