作曲 : Branch, Gold, Sandimanie
knooooooowwwww, 
I know I can't be stooooopped! [Verse 1] 
Yea, uh, Deala, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh... 
The definition of trillness, outta the 
South Just that real shit, not anotha nigga runnin' his mouth 
Pay attention, 
I'll explain why 
I can't be stopped 
And how I came to be the man on every neighborhood block 
Bronson, a young fly nigga straight out the slums 
Candy paint on 
Monte Carlos in the decks where 
I'm from Remember when 
I was first back from pullin' the first grab 
Or when the crack came 
I was the nigga with the first slam 
Who wants the 'yours truly', y'all cannot school me 
Put so much coke on the streets, 
Pepsi tried to sue me 
Wearin' a throwback, 
I dropped faces and ? crack 
And if I can't rap, the trap is where 
I'll go back 
This just one dimension, of a nigga spittin 
You're now welcomed to the dawnin of a new beginnin 
I'm the quarterback of crack because it's logical 
Don't want that yay, 
I'll switch up the plate, call me the honorable 
Deala not yo average dick ridin' bitch nigga 
I'm more like a 
Benz 6 ridin' sick nigga 
You know you the ??? darkskinned, heavily tatted ??? spark ten, heavily gatted 
C'mon dawg, you can't **** with me, leave it alone 
I got killaz on standby, breathe and it's on 
If this truly is a game then 
I'm the legend who wrote it 
And be careful 'cause the bases ain't the only thing loaded 
I knooooooowwwww, 
I know I can't be stooooopped! (I can't be stopped, I can't be stopped!) [Verse 2] 
Chrome wheelz on the 600, nuthin' but wood 
I-Double, 
DTP, we ain't nuthin' but hood 
You still tryina get a deal, but yo time's runnin' out 
You diarrhea in yo ass, the shit's not comin' out 
Okay, you dropped a lil' album, still got no ends 
I made more in a month doin '
Cris ad libs 
Do a background check on me, see how 
I live Don't let that 
Mac ground spit homey, think of yo kids 
Down hea, we for real, not just wordz and a rap 
Deala bitch! 
The same love in the burbs or the trap 
I can bang witchu, slang witchu, ride when 
I need to 
Drop somethin', cop somethin', slide when 
I need to 
You don't know me and all the warz that 
I've fought 
In the club, **** the bottle, whole bar gets bought 
Bronson! I'ma made man, you do the knowledge 
All you is just middle school, see me in college 
Pussy rimz are not legal, **** a learnin' permit 
Me, I ride on grown men and the mirror's the tint 
Y'all niggaz not quiet 
Ludacris, nowhere near 
Shawnna A mill ??? 
Fate, and 
Tity some otha drama 
And Tit' needs to get the title let alone the respect 
On every block 
I been on, not only the deck 
It's the same shit, different day, 
I'm stuck in my ways 
DTP, we run the streets until 
I'm stuck in the grave 
I knooooooowwwww, 
I know I can't be stooooopped! [Repeat 4X]