Ahhaahhaaaaa Whoa Yeah Crooked Lalalalala What Up? It's you boy, yeah Rollercoaster rims I see you ? Where we at on this one? Hold On...
Yeah, Crooked got ears like DJ Premier's He came in here just to replace the queers My heat waves for fear My clique is so deep We roll out cause traffic on the freeway for years If we changing gears, getting' ghost on suckas Paint a picture for the bread, draw toast on fuckas Most won't touch us, both coasts love us Me and my south niggaz cause grown folk ruckus Man, mofuck 'em all With this big glock You can see a trick shot as if you was in Rocker Park I'm a thug in the heart Drama on my momma, niggaz love when it start Damn slugs in the spar Just do your dog with a chopper after gasoline vodka The condition we leave you in is gonna puzzle the doctors My hustle is proper, I'm trouble for coppers The slug will drop ya quick, for tryin' to fuck with a mobsta These niggaz can't squad but thank god I keep a 38 ride, that'll blow you to cape ? It ain't odd that my money bank wire look like I done a bank job With my sunny state squad Crooked move out in convertible impalas Pistols under the Pistons reversible Ben Wallace No bullshittin' my purpose is big wallets Sippin' purpose herb cause it's perfect with hypnotic
I told you niggaz I was coming for your ass, and I'm here now Watch out a real nigga do shit, I got my own Record Label and them suckas is in fear now, It's more than music
Compositores: Jimmy Jawara Rodgers, Dominick Wickliffe ECAD: Obra #17939791