EP: "Million Dollar Story" (2011)

Everyday lyrics - Crooked I

How many times I gotta tell you niggas?
I'm not like you!

Sup niggas
It's your boy
Crooked I
Yeah
Turn this shit up
Turn it up!

I ain't never love a cop
They some American devils
Wanna bury me since birth
Gave my parents a shovel
Real niggas don't die
So they scared of the ghetto
What's a puppet compared to Gepetto
Hello
And you... time niggas you know where on my level
Rather talk to baby girl over there in the yellow
I'm a tell her get naked but she can wear the stilettos
Got a round jiggly ass but I ain't sharing my jello
It's an alien abduction
Put her in my spaceship
Demeanour of a boss
I ain't gotta say shit
I just wanna make it
Get my new bitch a pair of Sarah Palin fake tits
You hear me
I'm a long beach nigga
Riding down prince y'all
Read my bumper sticker it say fuck Russ Limbaugh
Got hood credit, the streets is my co-signer
I talk shit like Mel Gibson my ghostwriter

I'm in the streets tell me where you at
Put a hundred killers in front of you I could do that
Me and you ain't the same but you knew that
If you don't give a fuck throw your middle finger up
Real niggas fuck with real niggas, everyday
Live niggas fuck with live niggas, everyday
Real bitches fuck with real bitches, everyday
Live bitches fuck with live bitches, everyday

It's just me against the world, soldier on the mainline
How can I be militant and ignorant at the same time
I love liquor but I hate swine, blame it on the complexities of a great mind
I think I'm stuck somewhere inbetween Malcolm X and Detroit Red
Still chasing after d-boy bread
And I'm hardcore, lay a snitch flatter than that cardboard
Sitting underneath the spinning d-boy's head
I keep a glock, I be telling degenerates
It'll eat you pussies quick as Ellen DeGeneres
I mix drinks like a hell of a chemistist
If you a bitch nigga you forever my nemesis
Killing youths on my itinerary
Shouts out to Bun B and Chamillitary
I'm a Nas Illmatic nigga, Jay Blueprint nigga,
Curtis Jackson with an opinion 52 cent nigga

I'm in the streets tell me where you at
Put a hundred killers in front of you I could do that
Me and you ain't the same but you knew that
If you don't give a fuck throw your middle finger up
Real niggas fuck with real niggas, everyday
Live niggas fuck with live niggas, everyday
Real bitches fuck with real bitches, everyday
Live bitches fuck with live bitches, everyday

I don't live like you, I don't think like you do
Mother fuckers say I'm crazy
See I grew up in the hood where the cops try to kill a dude
Ever since I was a baby
And on top of all that these gangbang niggas tripping too, I kept a loaded 380
They tried to brainwash me with the curriculum in high school
I never let them fools play me
C.O.B. I got a religious career, it's the Van Gogh flow nigga lend me your ear
Ain't no rally for the feminists, the women are here
Pull your cock out quit living in fear
Probably see a nigga chilling with a porn star
Use her like the On-Star in my Ford car
In other words I only call her when I need help
Give me brains while I buckle up my seatbelt
That's when she told me she was Glenn Beck's daughter
Said she couldn't take a molested incest father
Get it off your chest bench press harder
I gave her a new name called her Princess slaughter
Her dad's the devil, she a hottie still
Made a mandingo like the way the human body feel
Quick question, who embodies guilt
If you don't buy my shit up at the illuminati wheel nigga

I'm in the streets tell me where you at
Put a hundred killers in front of you I could do that
Me and you ain't the same but you knew that
If you don't give a fuck throw your middle finger up
Real niggas fuck with real niggas, everyday
Live niggas fuck with live niggas, everyday
Real bitches fuck with real bitches, everyday
Live bitches fuck with live bitches, everyday.

Villain lyrics - Crooked I (feat. Sally Anthony)

There comes a time
In everybody's life
When they gotta make a change
I'm tired of being a villain
I'm a change

I'm not gon' be your villain anymore
And don't think I live my life of keeping score
I'm not gon' be your villain anymore
And don't think I live my life of keeping score
I'm not gon' be

Flat broke living in the hood
When I need money I be up to no good
Your family's rich my family's poor
I would trade places with you if I could
But I gotta play with the cards I was dealt
Down on my knees ask God for some help
Man of the house my dad walked out
Mistakes get made when you father yourself
I was raised on the block
A menace to society
Runt as a little kid I was innocent entirely
Time went by
Life got hard
Til I start feeling like a villain was inside of me
Mad at the world but I can't cry
Heart full of pain when I can't lie
I did a lot of dirt but now I wanna change
To the bad got in me I say bye...

I'm not gon' be your villain anymore
And don't think I live my life of keeping score
I'm not gon' be your villain anymore (I don't wanna be the villain no more)
And don't think I live my life of keeping score (ay ay no more)
I'm not gon' be

I don't wanna be the villain no more
Inside my mind fighting my own war
Half of me wants to be the good god
But the other half wants to kick down your door
Mixed emotions they start to confuse me
Last night I hopped in my car with a Uzi
Haters don't feel me some wanna kill me
I don't really wanna be the? movie
Too many years I done fought off a grant
I'm a a bail like Christian and walk off the set
You can tell the director and the producer
To kick that news when it fall off my neck
I was hanging myself
I couldn't breathe
Trapped in the ghetto
I couldn't leave
I couldn't think
I couldn't see
I couldn't take it man
I couldn't be
Guess I thought there was nothing else out there
For a dropout raised on welfare
Brave enough to rob a bank in a heartbeat
But too scared to take my life elsewhere
It ain't easy to go straight
Blind faith stepped to the plate
I packed up my bag
I walked out the door
I ain't coming back around this bitch til I'm great

I'm not gon' be your villain anymore (I don't wanna be the villain no more)
And don't think I live my life of keeping score (no more)
I'm not gon' be your villain anymore (I don't wanna be the villain no more)
And don't think I live my life of keeping score (no more)
I'm not gon' be

Put your hands in the air if you feel me
I'm a change my life if it kill me
Put your hands in the air if you feel me
I'm a change my life if it kill me
Put your hands in the air if you feel me
I'm a change my life if it kill me
Put your hands in the air if you feel me
I don't wanna be
I don't wanna be

I'm not gon' be your villain anymore
And don't think I live my life of keeping score
I'm not gon' be...
No more.

OkBye lyrics - Crooked I

California, you now rocking with the motherfucking best, crooked I
You don't like how I live, ok, bye
You don't like it money, ok, bye
You don't like bad chicks, ok, bye
Now go that away, go that away

The world hating on you boy just yesterday,
But like I said that was yesterday, cause hey
Eminem sign me to shady put me on interscope
Then he gave me a rifle so I could put you in a scope
Gave me the stamp, put the check in the mail
Now chicks licking me like an envelope, yeah I'm her throat
Crook in about to score I see the red zone,
All I need is peace by trade, but not the hair falls
Think I don't live right homie, you care wrong
Cause I'm a real sandwich, I'm just saying my bread loaf
Walk in the club with a geiger east side us
Some rappers cool, I came to be liver
You claim to be... you say you spit flames, you a liar
Damn god change your speech right up
I'm sour ways on the hater keep pushing
Just another... pussy who meet a dushing
I'm looking for a round ass I need a kushin
I love it when tell me daddy ineed a wooping

You don't like how I live, ok, bye
You don't like it money, ok, bye
You don't like bad chicks, ok, bye
Now go that away, go that away
You don't like how I do it, ok, bye
You don't like that I'm good, ok, bye
You don't like that I'm me, ok, bye
Now go that away, go that away

I'll be keeping it real because I am real
Yes some of yo eating good but it's your last meal
You the king of the hill, but it's an ant hill
I kick it over, you over tell me how that feels
It's not an arrogant thing, I got a stable of lyrics
And I'll be pimping these... like sean garret and dre
If these songs were whose I have a harem like an arabian king
So beware my team, yeap
So many wolves you ain't got nothing for me
Nowadays all that champagne popping looking horny
We got the bit-hes all... getting horny
And they ain't thinking of leaving till 6 in the morning
Yeah, they love fucking with us, let them do what they do
You be cuffing them tough
See you grey hound luggage when it comes to the sluts
Cause they're gonna throw you under the bus, boy

You don't like how I live, ok, bye
You don't like it money, ok, bye
You don't like bad chicks, ok, bye
Now go that away, go that away
You don't like how I do it, ok, bye
You don't like that I'm good, ok, bye
You don't like that I'm me, ok, bye
Now go that away, go that away

As long as I hustle hard money go come with ease
And it's child's play call it chunky cheese
Wanna do it like me, go sell a couple keys and a ton of weed
Then run the street with a hundred cheese
Goes that is they coming out the wood work
I would work but they ain't had a hood work
I'm trying to take over the game, big and pop style
Labels try to drop my old -hit cause I'm hot now
But oh -hit, you should stop now
Try to play me with some old -hit, I shoot your block down
Dirty magazines tell you what my click about
Cause playboy we some hustlers in a penthouse
Louie bag full of paper, let my chick count
She fly in a double summersault dismount
There she swear to god, crooked... out
I got a bad breath cause I'm from the slaughterhouse

You don't like how I live, ok, bye
You don't like it money, ok, bye
You don't like bad chicks, ok, bye
Now go that away, go that away
You don't like how I do it, ok, bye
You don't like that I'm good, ok, bye
You don't like that I'm me, ok, bye
Now go that away, go that away.

compilation: "Hood Star" (2010)

West Coast lyrics - Crooked I (feat. Kurupt & Eastwood)

[Eastwood:]
Huh, representing the West, check it out

Alright relax your mind, blow a blunt be free
You now tuned in to the sound of the new Row Gs
You claim you know us, (you know us), plus you think you can rap
Well you're tired, (you're tired), so go take a nap
Yeah you know the East, I get funky with lines
Mic check 1, 2, and spit it out my mind
The E.A.S.T. is the name I spell from videos to my shows, yes I rock well
Slow your roll boy, your team ain't stronger than mine
Fully loaded with automatic heats like land mines
You can't stand mines?
Well stay the fuck out my circle, before I spazz out on you and beat both of your eyes purple
I'm smoking purple kush off a chronic bush to release this thing
And ambush your team, mini machines that take off your spleen
If you ain't ready, I thought I told ya'll before, the Row roll heavy
Sharp like machetes, counting confettis, dipping the chevy
Watch my motherfucking d's out up and down your city
It's so pretty, D.A.S.T to the L.A.C. and I'm representing with Suge, This M.O.B.
So mob with me I keep my weed and heat under the seat like, "Fuck what you saying to me"
I'm hollyhood on you Hollywood niggas, what's up?
Meet a nigga in the street and we can lock head up

You can't get over the (bark) [x7]
She went which'a way? Now put your bitch away

[Crooked I:]
Crooked fuck in the West, But he cuts in the South
If there's sluts in the house, stick nuts in your mouth
Drink, what's it about? Keep punk niggas out (beat it!)
Six slumped on the couch, get humped then I'm out
I'm an ogre with mine, so vulgar at times
If ugly hoe were a dime, I'd fuck both of you combined
One hoe told me, "Crooked open your mind,"
Cause I like to be choked while I'm stroked from behind
Mah, I'll oblige, I don't follow guides, and if I squeeze too hard then I'll apologize
She the type who qualifies, man she had a lot of guys
Million dollar thighs and light green olive eyes
So I aimed for her chest
I came on her breasts
And stained on her flesh, we insane on the West
You see I'm a gangsta having fun
And I never leave a (beach?) without packing a gun

We got the gangsta shit that'll drive you crazy
And all my niggas just do that, gangsta dance
We got the gangsta shit that'll drive you crazy
And all my bitches just do that, gangsta dance

[Kurupt:]
Well it's Kurupt Young Gotti, (Gotti)
And I'm back home, you better ask somebody
I pack chrome and at least one shotty
I smash home with a pretty young hottie, Lodi Dodi
Still ride with the D (dot) P (dot) G (dot), we hot
The six tray watt, where the keys at Fiat steal that nigga
Classic hits, how could you not, not feel that nigga
Spill that liquor for your homies, I'm the real thing and we bang on phonies
I'm only out for my tippa, dick in your mouth for you strippers
Clock mountainous figures niggas come off the crown
Before Young Eastwood have to toss you down
I'm O.G., can't nobody kick me off the Pound
That's how bodies pop up in the loss and found
Slauson-bound bitch!
Shit, God damn, motherfucker, asshole

And all my niggas just do that, gangsta dance
We got the gangsta shit that'll drive you crazy
And all my bitches just do that, gangsta dance
We got the gangsta shit that'll drive you crazy
And all my niggas just do that, gangsta dance
We got the gangsta shit that'll drive you crazy
And all my bitches just do that, gangsta dance
We got the gangsta shit that'll drive you crazy
And all my niggas just do that, gangsta dance

You can't get over the (dog bark) [x5]
She went which'a way? Now put your bitch away
You can't get over the (dog bark) [x3]

EP: "Mr. Pigface Weapon Waist" (2009)

Mr. Pigface lyrics - Crooked I

{COB is my religion. I was raised in the world that wants to see you dead or locked up. What they have to do is lost. Pigface Weapon Waist nigga}

I won't be finished 'til I'm mentioned with the best ever
I rock a record like I'm a mirror of Def Leppard
I keep my eyes on my prey like I'm a deaf leopard
You better crown me or I'll jump you like a red checker
Chop your head off I aim (fifths?) and circum-
-cize all of you guys 'cause it ain't shit to merk 'em
I look into their eyes and see the same bitch that birthed 'em
Pussy I'm deranged I'm insane ('cept the circum?)
Pain mixed with anguish my language is gay mixed
With heinous dangerous spit, I shit you an anus
Nigga I'm idiotic and really got it
You fuck with me and them bullets will be movin' quick as Sonic
I'm hangin' out the window like a nigga finna vomit
Gin and tonic gun sound like an ashtray hit a comet
Yesterday I was loadin' my pistol on my Mama's couch
Thought about my fucked up life and yelled Slaughterhouse

{The beast was crazy. The Pigface Weapon Waist. The belly of the beast gave birth to a menace. Now they can't control me}

I kill you with no strings attached this is Wi-Fi
'Til the wheels fall off, I'm down to do the drive-by
Not to be cocky but I'm gooned up, why lie
That's why I got the upper hand like a high-five
Bet you never seen chrome checks
I make a call I get your pussies touched call it phone sex
Ain't no tellin' what I'm on next
Long texts from your wife tornado dick I home wrecks
I have that bitch sellin' her coochie lips, bourgie chicks
Get the coke nose 'til they load it as my oozy clip
Even broke hoes on the groupie shit
Pretty as a beauty tip get the Max Julien movie script
Welcome to my world, hot iron shots firin'
Cops tryin' to stop on my time
I drop block signs and after I'm gone I'll picture hip-hop cryin'
Like they did with B.I.G. and Pac dyin', I'm not lyin'

{For every one dead, two more are born. You can't stop real niggas. You'll never stop real niggas}

My family ties is as deep as Michael J. Fox
We aim glocks at your tank-tops
Leave you in a hospital bed watchin' Baywatch
Watch your weight drop 'til you're skinny enough
To fit between raindrops (bang, shots)
We killin' you on YouTube
Bono, nigga that means you too
I got a screw loose
You get stuck up like goodie-two-shoes
Though you knew that I was cuckoo
I'm in a GTA, I got them thangs on me
I'm in a GTA, but I ain't Gay Tony
A menace to society I'm MCH homie
The killa gorilla apes know me Mace pray for me
No lyricist realer straight Kobe can't hold me
I'm flash player couldn't read me with eight Dolby
So a new verse is nothin' but a new hearse
Tryna kill G shit I'm shootin' yellin' you first, nigga

{You'll never kill G shit (never). Until you tame society, this shit won't stop. Art imitates life nigga. Fox News wanna kill Obama, like the Long Beach PD wanna kill me. Ha ha ha ha! I won't die, I'll multiply. COB, it's my religion. That's why they follow me. Smoke the general. Pigface Weapon Waist nigga}

Guess Who's Back? lyrics - Crooked I (feat. Snoop Dogg)

[Snoop Dogg:]
Guess who's back in the MothaFucking house
Put a fat Dick fo your MothaFucking mouth
Holes reckng n ni99as do too
Cause when mitches get scandl'ous
N pull a voodoo
Whatcu gonna do?
You really dnt know
So why'd advise you not to trust that hoe
Silly of me to fall in love with a bitch
Knowing damn well whn to caught up with mah grip
Now as the sun rotates n mah games roles bigga
How manny bitches wann fu*k this ni99a
Named snoop, doogie I'm allie, n abovie
I'm to swift on mah toes to get cught up with these hoes
But see, it ain't no fun if mah homies can't get a taste of it
Cause u know I don't luv it

[Da Brat:]
Oh, guess who's driving in the 5 double O
Like yippie I... yippie O... yeh
Whn I talk smack ya'll betta skip back like
Hea we go... cause the beat don't matta...

[Maraiah:]
Cause you look so good I don't wanna let go
And though I should I can't leave you alone
Cause it's all disahonest caught up in the mist
Of you n I... cannot resist... headddonnn...

Boy if... I... do... the things u want me to... the way I used to do
Would you luv me baby... heat in feelin this
Did u know u breat mah heart?

Heart breaker you got the best of me
But I keep on coming back excesisvly
Oh why... did you have to run your game on me
I shoulda known, right, frum, the start
You'd go n break mah heart...

I need sumone to give me some real... love
[x2]
I need sum... (said I need somebody... OOo why)

Oohh whyy... when I met you that nite baby
Didn't know it wouldn't last...
I gave my love to you hunny...
Wish I could take it all back

[Warren G:]
... Cause I... have neva metta girl...
That... I loved in the whole... wide wooorrlld...

[Kurrupt:]
Well if kurrupt gave a fuck about a bitch I'd broke
I neva have no motha fuckin end of the smoke
I guess lope n looney bectcha can't do me,
Do we look like B B D u hoochy groupie
I have no luv for hoes thas sumthin that I learnd from the past
So how fuck am I suppose, to pay this hoe
Jus to lay this hoe
I know the pussy's mine so I'm a fuck a couple mo times
N' then I'm thru with it, there's nothin else to do with it
Pass it to the homie, now u hit it
Cause she ain't nothin but a bitch to me
And I know that bitches ain't shit to me, I gives a fuck,
Why don't you all pay attention, I'll post u with a different proposition
I'm Kurrpt, hoe
You'll neva be mah only one trick ass bitch...

[Everyone:]
It ain't not fun if the... hoomies can't have none...
[x4]

[Da Brat]
Guess who's back in the motha fuckin house
With two bigg ole giddi tities fo your mouth
Heart breakers mus part takers the sensation
So so def n clue hits in the makin

[Warren G:]
Whoo... hey now ya know
Inhale with mah flow
One for the money
Two for the bitches
Three to get ready
N four to hit the switches
In mah chevy six for red to be exact
With bitches on mah side and bitches on mah back
So back up bitch because I'm struggling
Jus get on your knees n then start jugglin
These mutha fuckin nuts in your mouth
It's me Warren G the ni99uh with the cloud

[Everyone:]
It ain't no fun... if the hommie can't... haave none

Woodstock Hood Hop lyrics - Crooked I (feat. M.O.P.'s Billy Danze & Slaughterhouse)

[Intro: M.O.P.]
Hahaha... they think they rid ourselves
We definitely got to give the drummer somethin (c'mon!)
Slaughterhouse (c'mon!) M.O.P. (c'mon!)
Everybody (c'mon!)

[Joell Ortiz:]
H-E- (what?) L-L-O, I'm one hell of a show
I'm the best, you stuck in the middle like L-M-N-O
I'll piss on you, let every toxic elements go
All you pussies is fucked, call me now celibate Joe (ay!)
Ay Slaughterhouse, let's go rock "Ed Sullivan Show"
I literally can't front, I'm back like never befo' (oh!)
I'm a rap my letter to hoes
Dear prostitute, I miss y'all lettin me slap my head on your nose
Where the fuck is my guitar? It couldn't of went far
Oh yeah, I smashed it on homie head in that Brook-lyn bar
Man I'm somewhere in between a crook and a star
Had some more bars but I left my rap book in the car (yo yo yo yo yo)

[Chorus: M.O.P.]
Yo, this that Woodstock hood hop
Hands up if you fuckin with it
We reppin Brooklyn (c'mon!) Jersey (c'mon!)
Long Beach (c'mon!) Detroit (c'mon!)

[Crooked I:]
Geah, spaz out, knock a nigga ass out
Knew he had a paper thin chin and a glass mouth
West Coast shit, seven-deuce glass house
Got a (Lil' Fame) so me and my (Posse Mash Out) (ohh!)
I ain't got a college degree
Just a circle of bosses, the Slaughter's in me - pardon me G
I just wanna fuck your daughter and flee
And leave all that marriage shit in the background like I'm Father MC
Ha ha, cocky, but don't be a copycat
When you see me rockin that, L.A. Kings hockey hat
I'm the king of L.A., do you copy that?
It's time for some change like Obama in a laundry-mat

[Chorus]

[Royce Da 5'9":]
Do y'all want problems with us? I guess not
Broadcastin live from a Pyrex pot
The steeets know that we nice, try your best shot
Speech coded in ice, dialect's hot
Everybody (c'mon!) get cool
Beef in big shoes, gun talkin repetitive call it chipped fool
You ain't never heard of me mami you excused
I don't only diss dudes
You sleepin on us, that's what it is - just understand
That I ain't gettin a wink of sleep 'til you lookin at the back of your lids
I'm a lyrical ounce of PIFF
Still countin them chips, for real mami, Slaughterhouse in this {"BITCH!"}

[Chorus]

[Joe Budden:]
Look, I'm not a gang-banger, more like game changer
With tamed anger, alias lover name changer
Liable to pop at kids and aim flamers
I'm why your parents told you not to entertain strangers
Dope get it, top notch, flow sickest
Best out, don't blame me it's no spitters
So vicious on the road to riches
From now on call Mr. Weiss, they chasin all of your old bitches
From the hood New Jersey and I claim this
Oxymoron, rob with the dirty and stainless
Cock back, high saddity so I keep the top back
So when the streets is watchin, I could watch back

[Chorus x2]

EP: "Block Obama II" (2008)

Circle Gang Anthem lyrics - Crooked I (feat. Kobe)

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of Ghettomerica
A... fuck these haterz nigga
Bitch ass niggas
Ya' know what I'm sayin' niggas
C.O.B. or nuthin nigga (C.O.B.)
Ya' naw mean nigga
Fuck you nigga
Cash over bitches
Controlling our block

Hey [x5]
Circle gang C.O.B. (hey) [x4]

I keep tellin em that I'm the boss of the west
They want to crown me's big king of the coast
Flow meaner than most
I speed by you like I'm Dale Earnhardt Sr.
Eager to boast middle finger
No genius is closer, I'm deeper
I feel your pain put your hands against da speaker
Then I'm going to heal your pain like an evangelistic preacher
Fuck a whole song I give a damn if it's a feature
Lyrics lifting these spirits high as cannabis sativa
Haters pop off the ambulance will reach ya
Them cannons will blam your face you'll be handsome as a creature (c'mon)
Niggas lettin' evil thoughts travel in the ether
They'll put you beneath the ground me and my animals will eat them(c'mon)
An east sider on hot tracks are reppin a street fighter
Bringing a mortal kombat to tekken
Do not grab your weapons I deep fry 'em
Reach and squeeze fire, please believe that I pop Mac 11's

I used to paint pictures with my sixteens
Now I spit plasma big screens
Look at the vivid scenes
Detailed enough to see the rivets in his denim jeans
That's why they rep C.O.B. from here to da Phillipines (Sucka)
Bandanas up report to your sargeant
Slicin' niggas like a hot knife through da margarine
You got a party let us march in
Hey Tiko, we don't even need ello chico? to barge in

[Chorus: Kobe]
Now, now, now tell me where your motherfuckin chief at
I got my man on my hip where the beef at
My niggas we on the grind check the G stacks
Smokin' with da seats back, high as a motherfucka' (hey)
Now, now, now real niggas still do what they wanna do (hey)
In the streets or the hood what you wanna do (hey)
C.O.B. lil' nigga you don't want it foo
The new west coming through
Lil' niggas what you gone do

I see these niggas claimin' Long Beach
Then they step they foot in the city
In my city Crooked is Biggie
They love me cause they know I put bullets in cities
Talk shit when I'm full of da Henny
And I'll pull it on any
'specially the funny sort
This is a money sport
I'm funneling funds out of town in a dummy car
I'm coming with guns putting rounds in the dumby corpse
Wake up in bed up next to a head of a bloody horse
Gangsta shit my niggas 'bout da bizness
They try to say dat we killas but never found a witness
Every witness around were straight scared shitless
Fear froze if I do it then bounce with da quickness
Real talk the life of a young boss
Run across the street reach for the heat when it jumps off
Knocked 'em off his feet leave them leakin' the punks off
One false move in the beat that's how people become lost
C.O.B. or nuttin' go get your tattoo
Put it on yo flag too
Music you could sag to
Sack a dub bag to
Load a chrome mag to
Slap a hatin' ass fag too
Yeah that too
So when you see it on the shelf, yeah grab two
C.O.B. dats me yeah dat's you
Haters I need a reason to kill you
In your sleep that'll make my dreams come true

[Chorus:]
Circle gang, C.O.B. [x5]
Treacherous Records Niggas

Can I Talk To You?! lyrics - Crooked I

[Intro:]
Yeah...
You Know Sometimes I Find It Hard To Put Everything I Wanna Express In One Song You Know?
Some Times You Gotta Go Out Side The Box When You Create...
Can I Talk To You? (Talk To You)
I Just Wanna Talk To 'Ya'll
Can I Talk To You? (Talk To You)
No Hooks
I Just Wanna Talk To You... (Talk To You)
No Motherfucking Watered Down Bullshit
Can I Talk To You? (Talk To You)
Let Me Holla At 'Ya'll Man

[Verse:]
Yeah Me Not Writing A Album Every Seven Days
Is As Odd As You Meeting A Reverend That Never Prays
It's As Rare As Me Not Packing A Pistol In The Seventh Grade
It's Like Surviving A Shot From Every Weapon Ever Made
See I'm On An Everlasting Endeavor For Better Days
Got A Vendetta For Chedda I'm Rippin' Whatever Stage
And I'm Way More Than Some Metaphors And A Clever Phrase
Way More Than A Chain And Some Size Eleven J's
I'm A Pyromaniac Looking For Mics To Set A Blaze
I'm A Psycho Brainiac Focus My Brain Never Sways
And My Minds A Maze With A Hundred And Eighty Seven Ways
For Me To Get Out My Mind And Let That Beretta Raise
Or Pop The Shotgun Bet You Never Met A Guage
Leave You Deader Than Dead Stop Your Breath It Won't Let You Age
Disrespect Me Expect Me To Protect Me And Catch A Case
Adress Me As Leather Face Jesse Smith And Wesson James
Not To Spit In Heavens Face But I Live In This Hell This Place
Where People Are Rebellin' Sellin' Hatin' Expelling Grace
In The Ghetto A Piece Of Metal's In Every Felons Waist
The Devil's Peddling Wicked Thoughts At An Excelling Pace
Meddling In Affairs Offer Nectre You Never Taste
Fools And Jesters Fall Victim Hope You Rest In A Better Place
Maybe We Should All Pray Instead Of Measures Of Less Or Fake
See I've Been There Before Bad Weather The Pressure Makes
And As Strange As It Sound I Forever Will Treasure Snakes
Cause They Make Me Appreciate My Brethren Who Never Fake
Swear To God I'm Writing Albums Like Every Seven Days
With' No Effort Then I Crash 'Em Them Records I Never Played
But Today I'm Letting Letter's Connect To Digest A Page
My Collective Perspectives Are Effective When Expressing Rage
Respected I'm Expected To Select The Domestic Cage
In The Pen For Felonies They Said It Would Never Pay
And This Is What They Say Bout You Nigguhs Who Ghetto Raised
Let 'Em Face Hunger And Deadly Plagues No Question They Catching Strays
They Sex'n They Catchin AIDS A Wretched Phaze
Our Community's In It's Like We Gotta Be Edrain James
Just To Dodge Obsticals Kids Homeless They Never Ate
Living In Shelters Momma's Felt This Factions From Section Eight
And These Politicians Are Bitches With Shit They Legislate
Convicted Felons Are Slaves So Prisons They'd Rather Make
Free Labor Is Paper For Corporations In Every State
So They Target Us Nigguhs Man I Carry This Heavy Weight
I Meditate Picture Myself In Front Of Heaven's Gates
Open My Eyes I'm Still In The Hood For Heaven's Sake

[Outro:]
Can I Talk To You!
Can I Talk To You?
Can I (Can I) Talk To You?
I Just Wanna Talk To You... Hey Wiz Talk To Them Man!
I Just Wanna Talk To You...
Can I Talk To You?
I Just Wanna Talk To You...
Can I Talk To You? DJ Wiz Talking With His Hands!
I'm Way More Then Some Metaphors And A Clever Phrase... To You!
I'm Way More Then Some Metaphors And A Clever Phrase... To You... To You!
I'm Way More Then Some Metaphors And A Clever Phrase...

Dream Big lyrics - Crooked I (feat. Akon)

[Chorus: Akon (Crooked I)]
See, I remember I was just a loner
Looook at me
(I dream, you dream, we all dream big dreams)
(I dream, you dream, we all dream big dreams)
I'm on top permenantly, but we stay in the streets
And I won't stop bringin that heat, it's my dream, said it's my dream
Ohhhh...

[Verse 1: Crooked I]
I had a dream, I would rise to the top
You haters like it or not, Who number 1?, I got my eyes on your spot
The west coast treat me I like was 'Pac
Now all I need is the whole world to bang *Crooked I on your block*
I'm out the hood if you couldn't tell
I've been shot at, stabbed, and put in jail
I've been homeless in places you wouldn't dwell
Feel these words as if they were put in brail
I did not lose cause I knew that I couldn't fail
Now on this track, me and Akon are cellmates
My sixteens's so fly I call them jailbaits
And I'm a take us to the T-O-P
Put this on G-O-D, homie this C.O.B.

[Chorus: Akon]
See, I remember I was just a loner, hangin on the corner
Now take a look at me I'm, big bossin
Steady stackin chips, never thought I would see this shit
I'm on top permenantly, but I stay in the streets
And I won't stop bringin that heat, it's my dream, said it's my dream
Ohhhh...

[Verse 2: Crooked I]
Late nights on the corner, Crooked had them a dream
To drive a Maroon 5, call it Adam Levine
Never mismanage the green cause that's vanish and cream
I grind all night, am I man or machine? (heeeeeeyyyyy)
I dream big like I was Kareem Biggs
In my dreams all I could see was whips and mean cribs
Love my momma, cause look what she did
On her knees like, please God can you help me feed these kids
To my deadbeat father, Crooked's your child
You didn't raise me, you crazy, look at me now
It's like I'm solar, everyday your sun's gonna come up
Pops, if money talks, my pockets won't shut up
Gotta work hard just to reach what you desire
If you're like me, then I'm preachin to the choir
Amen, in my region I'm Messiah, eastsider
I'm the reason Long Beach is on fire!

[Chorus: Akon]
See, I remember I was just a loner, hangin on the corner
Now take a look at me I'm, big bossin
Steady stackin chips, never thought I would see this shit
I'm on top permenantly, but I stay in the streets
And I won't stop bringin that heat, it's my dream, said it's my dream
Ohhhh...

[Verse 3: Crooked I]
I had a dream I would win it all
When you haters get involved, you be dreamin and prayin to see a nigga fall
Wait a minute ya'll
I'm gettin paper from Cali to Senegal than I spend it all in the mall
I'm the rapper that the hood like to talk about
The one the onliners would love to to write a blog about
Fill a chatlog about, cats wanna beef in my city, what's that all about
Later I'm a dogg'em out, dog... I'm out, giant blur
Your eyes observe me, drivin? flyin?, it's I and her
She's my fly hawaiaan islander and I'm her sir
She loves me, I never ran from nothing
Even paralyzed people gotta stand for something
And I stand on the block tryna get that green
Moneymachine go brrrrrr-ting, yarrrrrramean?

[Chorus: Akon w/ Crooked adlibs]
See, I remember I was just a loner, hangin on the corner
Now take a look at me I'm, big bossin
Steady stackin chips, never thought I would see this shit
I'm on top permenantly, but I stay in the streets
And I won't stop bringin that heat, it's my dream, said it's my dream
Ohhhh...

[Crooked I:]
I dream, you dream, we all dream big dreams
I dream, you dream, we all dream big dreams
I dream, you dream, we all dream big dreams
I dream, you dream, we all dream big dreams

Yeah...

It was all a dream...

mixtape: "Young Boss: Volume 2" (2006)

Creased Khaki Flow lyrics - Crooked I

Go...
Yeah... you wanna know what this is my nigga
(The creased khaki flow)
The creased khaki flow ykno what I'm talking about, that gangsta shit, what
else (the white tee spit)
Yeah, I'm talking about a whole motherfuckin can of starch nigga
(the creased khaki flow)
And one crease comin down the middle of a white t-shirt yeah
(the white tee spit)

Crooked I's cold-blooded like I gotta Rick James degree
I'm so rugged, switch lanes with me
I'm so thuggish, ho's love it, flip change, live dangerously
Only lames spit game for free
You damn right this man writes his raps like his life's in a crisis
And I'm twice as sick as Ms. Anne Rice is
I stand right up squeezin the mic lifeless
You might like my concise preciseness... like this
Cats came in the rap game and claimin they crack slangin, the gat aimin
In fact, they act just like Matt Damon
Homie my gat'll slay men
You cats say when and... blaow
I roll up on your block then I blast
Cops finna ask who shot you while you rockin an oxygen mask
I hit the gas in the drop finna smash to the spot
Got my glock locked in the stash spot in the dash
My six cruise on big shoes
I'm a lit fuse with sick views
I got issues, I misuse... pistols
Say we in combat, I spazmatic like a crazy Vietnam cat

[Hook:]
Yeah, crease your motherfuckin khakiz up
Juice the batteries in your low-rider caddies up
Chuck Taylors, white tees, slang cavy what
These streets made me a trigger-happy nut
Yeah, crease your motherfuckin khakiz up
Juice the batteries in your low-rider caddies up
White tees, Chuck Taylors, slang cavy what
These streets made me a trigger-happy nut

Yeah, it's young Crooked
Yeah you had a leg but my pump took it
Now you hip-hop cuz you one-footed
I lick shots, drop, here comes bullets
I leave scenes sick as Hitchcock
News won't even run footage (tell em)
I come hooded jus like a grim...reaper
Slim... keeper, 9 double m heater
Creepin in tha streets, deep in the seats of tha jeep
Beatin new releases through 10 speakers
It gets deeper
I'm bringin that long beach feeling back
See me on tha eastside where all of them killers at
But my enemies don't wear raiders, saints, or even a steelers hat
They wear a badge... how real is that?
No matter what, ghetto life is still in my veins
If you poverty-living, I know you feelin my pain
I'm still sick in the brain, skill spit with such meticulous game
Shoot ridiculous like Nicholas Van Exel
Guess who's sexing your step-daughters
A nigga who can draw glocks better than sketch-artists
When I walk in the club, hug your ho
Hustlers know, I'm nut-so with the thugsta flow
Everything's open, nothing is closed
Magazine's throwing me on them fuckin covers to pose
Look at young papi, cocky, never sold one copy
Gun cocked rocky, please come stop me
So and so is cool, what's his name is aight
Homeboy is okay, but Crooked I is tyte
That's what's heard, that's my word, act absurd
You cats get served cuz I rap disturbed
I'm closing doors with the quickness
I'm in the Pocanos poking hos hoping you don't poke your nose in my business haters
I'm scopin those from a distance
Relentless foes get a broken nose for persistence
Absolutely, cats bringin gats to shoot me
I even watch all them rats actin goofy
Disguised as groupies, that's a doozy
What's that bulge under your shirt?
That's a uzi... excuse me

[Hook]

Yeah! Long Beach is back, I told y'all niggaz man
I'm comin down Atlantic Ave.
letting my paint drip on the motherfuckin street '61 rag
ay style, we gonna get this money and buy the Queen Mary 5-6-2
I told y'all
Long Beach is ba-a-a-a-a-ACK! nigga! gyeah!
Creased Khaki Flow...The White Tee Spit
Jim Gittum...Crooked I
C.O.B. til we di-i-ie

Boom Boom Clap lyrics - Crooked I

[Intro]
Yea this is for gangsta's only
The dance floor's packed and them thangs is on me
These cats wanna hate cause they dangers on me
We strapped in the club, so it's dangerous homie

[Verse 1]
Boom Boom Clap, Clap, Boom Clap
This is Dodger Music, this the new blue hat
This the bulletproof coupe with the moon roof back
With the deuce deuce strap, this is new school crack
Boom Boom Clap, Clap, Boom Clap
Make way for young boss, dude move back
Cause dude pack enough heat to remove dudes shaqs
Keep his quarters and jimmy choo shoes now who's back
Dynasty for life, y'all know what's good
Middle finger's how we throw up our hood
Bone crushers ready, eatin wimps for dinner
Them boys is blood suckers like a ten percenta
Man Crooked bomb first boy, please do not diss
Nine years later, I'm still on some pac ish
Got my own label, let's pop cris
I'm feelin like Dre at the Vibe Awards, can't nobody stop this

[Chorus]
Yeah, I'm two steppin with your freak yo
We in the club twenty deep yo
Everybody on the streets know
Beef wit us homie my heat go
Boom Boom Clap, Clap Boom Clap
Beef wit us homie my heat go
Boom Boom Clap, Clap Boom Clap
Everybody on the streets know

[Hook]
Yeah, Pay your rent girl
Drop down to the ground
Pay your rent girl
Do the freak to the beat
Pay your rent girl
Lapdance that man
Pay your rent girl

[Verse 2]
Yeah, Long Beach got nothing to hide
East side, 5-6-2 I say it with pride
Chicks see the C-N-S and they get inside
I used my cars to get broads, I pimp my ride
Nicca, black mercedes packed with ladies
Half they crazy, asses is askin to have my baby
Rappers lately acting shady
Have me clap three eightys
You backwards cats amaze me
Nope, I don't feel you fags
Money in the safe but I gotta fill new bags
I don't feel too bad, got beef holla
I'll put money on your head like a dollar bill doorag

[Chorus]

[Intro]

[Verse 3]
Yeah, I don't need no ex, still getting more sex
Get it then I let the Horseshoe Gang go next
Still sippin moet, still hittin your ex
Still got diamonds in my Bill Clinton rolex
How you livin? Is that really your crib?
I got rich, never sat on Rap City with Tig
Absolutely you dig, I'll mack milli your wig
I'm black william bonnie, that's Billy The Kid
I keep clips like them virginia boys
First you get money man then you store
I'm waiting for a bad chick to walk in the door
With a body like Kenya Moore, I get in ya more

[Chorus]

All I Ever Wanted lyrics - Crooked I

Fuck Being The King, I'm The Boss of The West
(All I ever wanted) All I ever wanted
(Was the freedom to refuse) Was My freedom
(Of something of my own to love enough) I love this game man
(You hate to lose) I can't lose
(Feel it in my brain) It's crazy man
(It's leaving smoke behind my eyes) I hate to talk about these suckers
(When a part of me that wants to change) I want to change
(Fights the part of me that tries) But I gotta talk about you lames

Peep Game (Yea)

Knock, Knock here we go again, It's Crooked I homie let me in
Fuck 5 mics give me ten, I'm rembrant with an ink pen
A lot of Niggaz represent the West, Sittin on the throne is the quest
I don't give a Fuck who the best, Even though I'm better than the rest
What I just said is so real, We can bet a set of chrome wheels
If gettin' dough was based on skills, Niggaz couldn't pay they phone bill
Rap Game, Damn shame, Fuck it ima pop champagne
Keep a cuban hangin out my mouth, I know you seen the ad campaign
Tell the truth, Y'all Niggaz Lame, Not the kind of lame with a cane
Kind of Nigga lame in the brain, that's why I'm changing the game
Gang Bangin' was in eighty-nine, Now we on some organized crime
Hip-Hop Cops on the grind nevermind them last couple lines
Close homboys might switch, Best friend put you in a ditch
Fuck a snitch, Fuck a Bitch I just wanna see my Niggaz rich
[?] and ya life, a couple drop tops and a wife
Fuck gettin' shot in a fight, Gotta keep a glock in ya sight
That's the way it is in the streets, Niggaz never wanna see you good
That's coach leather on the seats, That's cherry grain on the wood

Yea, But We giving back to the hood
Gotta give back to the hood
You know? Somebody gotta do it
Cuz you suckers ain't come back in a long time man
Every time you come through here, fifty thousand police withchu
Cant even walk around your own people
And then you wanna block me from getting in the game
You Niggaz lame
Try not to talk about you suckers
But I can't change... I got to...

Yea, Yea Nigga What now? Years later still in the game
Underground for a long while, 100 carats still in the chain
Cuz the flow's ill, and he's so real and his hoes feeling his pain
Doing dope dealings and show skrill or we don't steal and entertain
Everything I do is legit, Putting off my shit
You can search a Niggatill he's sick, Yea, Cop eat a fat dick
Rappers slug gettin mailed, can't put a boomerang in jail
Throw me in imma come back out, Why Nigga, I post bail
Then it's right back on the block, with a baby mac and a glock
When you're trapped and you need to hear real rap and what happened to Pac
These Niggaz rappin is gay, I don't care what mad Niggaz say, Chris told
yall, you was wick-wick-wack way back in the day
I kick back with a six-pack, then a Nigga gotta laugh at the way, You kick
raps cuz the simple fact, come at me and you'll ask for the pay
Crooked I or Young Boss, Y'all know my motherfucking name
Wont stop till I'm on top, hottest young Nigga in the game
C dot , O dot, P dot We Hot squeeze glocks, three shots, leave a Nigga on
the street top Beeyotch

(All I ever wanted) Yea
(Was the freedom to refuse) All I ever wanted was my freedom
(Of something of my own to love enough) And now I got something that I love
(You hate to lose) I love this game man
(Feel it in my brain) I can't lose, I won't lose
(It's leaving smoke behind my eyes) Listen
(When a part of me that wants to change) C.O.B.
(Fights the part of me that tries)

The Kite lyrics - Crooked I

[Intro:]
Yeah, this is a kite goin' to all my homeboys
locked up in the penitentiary federal and state
We ain't forgot about you, my life long wish
is for all my real niggaz to feel me
Yeah, ya know, I gotta put it on the streets man
That's what I live and die for - the streets, yeah ..

[Verse 1:]
Out on them streets I put my life on the line
Between these sheets I put my life in them lines
Crooked reciting these rhymes
Givin' sight to the blind
In the dark my recital will shine light in ya mind
Like God cipher divine
I'm a fight for my kind
Nigga, surviving the grind
With a sniper designed, rifle aligned right for ya mind
I target a man
I was thuggin' before I became a marketing plan
Cover my heart with my hand, and vow
To keep it real, can't [?] ya [?]
Target the hearts of the fan, like the archer is part of the plan
Man, my loved ones who restin' in peace
They couldn't peak at the peak I was destined to reach
Through expressing a speech
I'm the essence of each O.G. before me
They gave me lessons to teach
I'm Pablo, you can't measure the reach
A cop-ho, fuck gestapo, arrest the police
Death to the beast
A renegade menace, niggaz witness the birth
Every listener's a prisoner, til I finish the verse
Every minute I'm spittin, you sittin' in a ministers church
You niggaz is bitches, I'm militant, I'm liftin' ya skirt
Society's prejudice, fuck it, all hope is lost
To piss 'em off, I do what you call "over-floss"
That's the reason the Benz got all chrome exhaust
They hate a ghetto nigga, cigar-smokin' boss
I'm crazy! Put me on a therapist couch
I've seen stomach shots leave a nigga wearin' a pouch
I've seen people's parents parish for careless amounts
So what's the starin' and the swearin' about?
This unfair character 'll stick his derringer square in ya arrogant mouth
I'm darin' ya, coz you apparently doubt
That I will merrily bury ya, without care when the sheriffs is out
And go that devout terrorist route
You box, I shoot glocks, we just don't compare in a bout
A shot caller
I'm airin' you out
A boss baller
Crooked I, you know I'm wearing Cartier in a drought
We live from ghetto America's house
Where the police get a paid vacation for kickin' niggaz ass
So 3rd strikers see the cop and let the trigger blast
There's so much pain in a nigga's past
We finna eat til we sick of cash
Me and my killaz finna mash for real, til we open them doors
It's young boss, sincerely yours! (sincerely yours)

[Hook:]
P.S. - Real niggaz know they gotta grind
B.S. - Bullshit will get you left behind
E.S. - East Side ride everytime
P.S. - Real niggaz know they gotta grind

[Outro:]
Yeah, it's a kite goin' to all my homeboys in the penitentiary
I ain't forgot about you
Yeah, revolutionary - yeah ... but gangsta
The federal crime bill is full of pages to keep us in cages
The government got a plan for you niggaz, you better keep your eyes open
yeah, ya know
I see you rappers on TV, you grease monkeys
You mothafuckers greased up with all them tattoos and ya shirt off
You point a gun at me, but not a C.O. - P
Yeah, you soft as cotton
East Side Long Beach - we revolutionary
We revolutionary... but gangsta

Auplelia (Auphelia Payne) lyrics - Crooked I (feat. Sheena)

This one's dedicated to my home girl, Auphelia Payne

She was a ghetto little girl who became a young woman
Didn't have no kids, didn't plan on one coming
And niggaz who wasn't bout shit, she'd run from em
From a welfare family, look how the slums done em
Daddy was an alcoholic so her mama dissed him
Her gang banging brother was a homicide victim
One of her other younger brothers locked by the system
She sent him letters, couldn't describe how she missed him
Told him jobs in the hood ain't plenty
So I'm part-timing it at Denny's
But she didn't tell him at night she's strip club waitress serving Henny
Rocking lace stockings and a mini
Customers ask if they could buy sexual favors
Even the women want bisexual favors
But she don't get down like that and so they label her a hater
Go on, baby, tell them what you're made of

You don't know what to do, you gotta make it through
I feel your pain
You gotta keep on fighting and you will get to the better days
I feel your pain
Keep pushing, you'll be fine, don't give in, you'll be alright
I feel your pain

Now she wanna go to school so she enrolled in night classes
Told her friends about it but they acted like asses
They don't know we can't let this life pass us
Jet black hair, shaded eye glasses
Standing on the bus stop like a poster of dignity
Even though niggaz push crack in that vicinity
You keep your identity
Rest in peace, big bro tatted on your left arm in beautiful caligraphy
It'll be a cold day in hell when you give up
You got a game plan to pull that european whip up
Get a interior decorator to fix your crib up
For being sick of the bullshit, I give you big ups
A lot of your homegirls, they ain't built the same
You tell them to get off they ass but they still remain
Lead by example though, kill the game
And one day they can build and change
I feel your pain

You don't know what to do, you gotta make it through
I feel your pain
You gotta keep on fighting and you will get to the better days
I feel your pain
Keep pushing, you'll be fine, don't give in, you'll be alright
I feel your pain

She was a ghetto little girl who became a young woman
And three years from now, she got a son coming
Today she in a 600, look at her stunting
While naysayers was fronting, she went and done something
Made it out of school, got two coupes to twirl
On the weekends she speaks at a youth group for girls
Teach them how to properly move through the world
Droppin jewels of wisdom if you choose the pearls
Got her own business and she's barely even 30
She said I prayed for strength and, baby, god heard me
Got accountants now, employees, and attorneys
Found a real nigga who appreciates her journey
Ain't gotta do it alone, got a loan
Moved mamma right out of the criminal zone
Got a front and back bone when little bro come home
Now she even got her own song
I feel your pain

You don't know what to do, you gotta make it through
I feel your pain
You gotta keep on fighting and you will get to the better days
I feel your pain
Keep pushing, you'll be fine, don't give in, you'll be alright
I feel your pain

Yeah, you know what I'm saying? This one goes out to my homegirl, Auphelia
Payne. You know sometimes we as men always focus on our own problems and we
ignore the problems that our women are going through. You know what I'm
saying? But if nobody else care about your everyday stuggle, you gotta know
that I do. Smile, baby girl, it's gonna be alright. We gonna make it through
the storm and watch the sunshine. I feel your pain

I feel your pain
I know your going through a thang
Everything will be okay
The sun shines after rain

Hey, I feel your pain
I know your going through a thang
Everything will be okay
The sun shines after rain

You Need A Blessin lyrics - Crooked I (feat. Jim Gittum)

[Intro: background]
..the will to cary on
On with the show
On with the show!
ohhh Show Must Go On

[Crooked I: talking]
Yeah
the show must go on
we all been through up and dows in out lifes (yeah)
I've been through some, you been through some but we can't let it stop us
(can't stop)
life stumbling blocks can't do nothing with us man (nothing)
we gotta keep moving with an iron will (gotta keep moving)
heart of a lion (yeah shit is real man) (this is real nigga)
I know you stressing (me too my nigga)
but we can make it (we got a problem) (gotta make it)
Chea! (Yeah)
Yeah

[Verse 1: Crooked I]
Even as a youg kid I had a Boss demeanor
problably see me in the drop givin' a cop the finger
My girlfriend is a rachet I cock the nina
she serving niggaz for the raquet but she's not Serena
Niggaz wanna run infront my car pop the beamer
wet of water I ain't talking Aquafina
so I kick spiritual lyrics in God's arena
start pouring my heart out more than a gospel singer
My whole life never felt fair
"Fuck my dead beat father" is what a yelled as a kid living on welfare
no healthcare we walking down hell stairs
Hell Yeah! I looked for help else where
all I had was a 9milli and one gage
plus Rage
I dropped out at a young age
Fuck Grades
My mission to become paid even if one day they put my face on the front page
now I beef and squa, sleep with raw
thief and rob the streets to beat the odds
My homie slit both of his wrists
he said he wanted to meet with God
cause he couldn't keep a descent job
I seen it as a true lesson
you can't afford to step outside of your mind, for 2 seconds
if so, you choose weapons, shoot yourself with this Smith & Wesson untill
you're through stressing, DAMN!!!

[Chorus: Crooked I]
I know you stressing homey
You need blessing homey
I've been there before
Life is hard, I know (I know)
Face your depression homey
It ain't a question homey
We can fight and survive the odds fo sho! (we can fight)

I know you stressing homey
You need blessing homey (yeah)
I've been there before
Life is hard, I know (I know)
Face your depression homey (face it)
It ain't a question homey (it ain't one)
We can fight and survive the odds fo sho!

[Verse 2: Jim Gittum]
now when times get hard
sometimes they get harder
she should of been, could of been, baby moms supporting my daughter
while I was out wild n out trying to be Shawn Carter
should of been working a 9 to 5 trying to be a father
I was only 18 trying to chase this dream
rebellious little nigga mesmerized by the Bling
then I had a spirit encounter with the King of kings
and he told me "Jim Gittum go and do your thing"
now I understand what vision and focus mean
prioritized lay my ties and now I get green
I ain't trying to be extreme and say that life is perfect
I'm just trying to say walk by faith and life would be worth it
Gotta think more optimistic and control your thoughts
Gotta think more postivite before you talk
It's true you gotta learn to crawl right before you walk
but after you learn to walk you run to be number one!

[Chorus]

Rap 101 lyrics - Crooked I

Homie, don't bother this fatherless child
Niggaz wit problems get shot in the eusophagus, set off the apocolypse now
the projectiles choppin' you down
cock it and blaaw
robbin' you for every profit in ya pocket and smile
My cannon dismantle you, let it off like roman candles
point two nines at you with bandana's on the handles
blast through ya flannels
we just Sopranos smashin' in astro vans with ammo stashed in the panels
we animals when it's drama
move like mechanical anaconda's, we hannibals, cannibals, and piranha's
the last nigga with info that hand over the fed's
the homie's jumped in the hummer, ran over his head
hand over your bread
we snatch you out your land rover, choke ya
smoke ya while we stand over your bed
just to let ya know, this is westcoasonostra
ever since Pac passed you thought the westcoast was over
but look closer and you're liable to find
My homicidal recitals' the kind that inspires a guy to rewind
king of survival, the title is mine
I write for ya spine and stifle ya mind with a cycle of triflin' rhymes
It ain't a gangsta that us hustlaz won't reach
we bust just to touch the cold streets
you bustas won't cease
and that's why my next tattoo will say "no justice, no peace..."
plus "fuck the police"

(yeah.. that's how we do this shit... Rap 101)
(yeah, get your bars up)
(your metaphors and similies ain't right)
(ya know what I'm talkin' about?)
(you old niggaz, just keep a fresh swagger)
(you new niggaz, learn your history in this hip-hop culture and you'll be alright)
(this is the art of MC'ing.. this is Rap 101)
(listen and learn..)

Nigga, I wish you would speak on my label
I'll walk in your house, put my feet on your table, see what's on cable
soon as you speak, shots leave you leakin' from navel
rock you to sleep in a cradle, you geeks weak and unable
we can disable haters from Tennessee to Diego
Long Beach to Vallejo
law low, a yo, we givin' niggaz wings and a halo
squeezin' them thangs so easily without seein' a reason to say no
they ask, "why ya by yourself?"
cuz I walked into the firearm store, tried to buy the entire shelf
to jackers out to acquire wealth
I fire shells, while ya yell, I serve ya like the hired help
My science are sins, my mind tire within
the bad guy wins like the giant got goliath's revenge
puttin' 5 in ya benz, tie up ya wife in it then
quiet your friends with gunfire as maniacal rhyme sire begins to strike like
a viper and snipe ya again
you can recite what'cha like but ya fight for ya life cuz the "I" can ignite
the mic and he's slightly tighter than you when he write with the pen
who's rivalin' him?

(It's Rap 101)
(teachin' you the art of MC'ing)
(I hope you all takin' notes out there, ya know)
(or I'm a flunk you dumb asses)
(yeah, get them metaphors up)
(get your patterns and rhyme schemes together)
(how you gonna let my timin' be better than your rhymin'?)
(It's Rap 101)
(to all you A&R's out there...)
(if it don't sound like this, it don't like shit...)
(yeah, it's Rap 101...)

Black Superman (Freestyle) lyrics - Crooked I

[Intro:]
East Side Long Beach, Blap Blap... Cob, Circle Of Boss;S
Its Your Boy Crooked, Lets Do It To Em...

[Verse 1:]
They Call Me Black Superman
Black Rouger Man
Fast Shootin Hand
Clap Your Brand New Sedan
I'm Raps Luther Van
Got Hoes Throwin Panties
Watch The Flow Blow As If I Rap Thru A Fan, Man
Everybody Knows From Sets Vargos To Varios
That Chrome Shotty Give Your Body Holes
And I Body Hoes
Last Chick They Tried To Set Me Up
I Squoze The Tommy, Mami Adios
I'm A Gangsta
Vest And A Chain
Ain't No Questions Wether
I'm Destined To Reign
Wont Rest Till I'm The Best In The Game
Me And Kanye Got Somethin In Common
You Have To Attach The West To The Name Crooked
Give Me Mine Or I'm Gonna Squab With Critics
I Never Rock Without My Dodger Fitted
Me And Dj Skee In A Level 3 Benz Brabus Kitted
I'm A Boss, Who Got A Problem With It
I Live It So I Can Spit It
Poetic Picture, Oscar Vivid
So When You That Boxter Dippin,
You Know That A Mobsters In It..
Wait A Minute, I'm Above The Law
I Ain't A Painter, But I Love To Draw
Can I Thug Wid Yall..

Ughh
Yea, Yea
I'm Black Superman

Blap Blap Cob, Circle Of Boss;S

[Verse 2:]
Yeah Nigga...
From This Industry Long Beach Wont Leave
Even If I Gotta Stick A Chrome Piece To Ya Dome Piece, Don't Breathh..
They Cold Slugs From Some Og's
We So Thug In The Pro Cuts With The Long Sleeves
Niggaz That Raised Me, They Sold Keys
Some Of 'em Spinnin Small Face Hundreds, The Same Colour As Old Cheese
I Wont Squueze, Hoe Please
I'm So Cold When I Breeth Its A 20 Below (De)Grees
Don't Fist Fight Another Round
Big Pipes Sit Right Under My Pin Stripe Button Down
Sit Tight Not Another Sound
I Egnite Another Round
Quick Like Lightening
Put Your Click Right Underground
I Hear You Sayin Some Shit
But It Ain't True
You Niggaz Gang Banging
Claimin A Gang That Don't Even Clame You
I Still Do What You Cant Do, Cob, Circle Of Boss;S
We Ain't Thru Nigga

Yeah Nigga Yo All Know What It Is,Dynasty Cob, Circle Of Bosses Nigga
Crip Or Blood, Cash Over Bithces, Yeah Nigga What
Yo Skee, Lets Do Business Man

My Lowrider lyrics - Crooked I (feat. The Game, Paul Wall, WC, E-40, Chingy, Techniec, Lil' Rob & Ice Cube)

[Hook:]
Cherry '64 (my lowrider), hop in the low low (my my lowrider)
Chrome hydraulics, all-black Impala (my my lowrider, my my lowrider)
Three-wheelin' the '64 (my lowrider), hop in the low low (my my lowrider)
Chrome hydraulics, all-black Impala (my my lowrider, my my lowrider)

[Techniec:]
I see 'em tryna shine like Tech
'Cause I shine like I be grindin' on the set, d-d-diamonds on my neck
Most talked about when I hit that strip, watch it bounce when I hit that dip
Come too close, might get that clip, click bang
Don't trip, Tech don't slip, let's up the road, go get my bitch
Get my grip, talk my shit, hit my switch and dip
Switchin' lanes on them Dana-Danes, same color as that candy paint
Tangerine, wit' metal plates...

[E-40:]
I tried to tell you never sober, chalupa, longer than a roller coaster
Out here a hub a head a do-ya, for a quarter ounce of yola
Venomous snakes, like some cobras
Up top is where I'm from, we lettin' out nuts hang over our shoulders
Figure-8 and goin' dumb
Drivin' wit' all four doors open, gassin' and brakin' and yokin'
We hyphy, we stupid, Vallejo, Richmond, 'Frisco, Oakland
We 'Niners, we Raiders, we some hustlas and some playas
We got '64's and low-low's, but most of us ridin' scrapers

[Crooked I:]
Please Lord forgive me, it's in me to toke Semi's
Grope Penny and Remy, my pockets was so skinny
Now I blow pennies on four Hemi's
Run the whole city, hoes, I put dough before any
My 6th sense helped me view better cheddar kid
I fucks more hoes than Hugh Hefner ever did
That new leather shit, the coupe hella sick
Dude move ahead of whoever 'cause dude never quit

[Hook:]
Cherry '64 (my lowrider), hop in the low-low (my my lowrider)
Chrome hydraulics, all-black Impala (my my lowrider, my my lowrider)
Three-wheelin' the '64 (my lowrider), hop in the low-low (my my lowrider)
Chrome hydraulics, all-black Impala (my my lowrider, my my lowrider)

[Chingy:]
Cranberry Impala, that's my lowrider
Slide by ya, North sider, rider wit' a hoe driver
G'd up, from the feet up, plus the heat tough
Toe game, crack the Grey Goose, and spark the weed up
When I'm in L.A., I go in Crenshaw and floss a little
Slot a lot thang and them Black Wall Street
Double-U and P and C-P-T, we keepin' it G
In our lowriders, riders, riders

[Lil' Rob:]
We put them cracks up on the wall, cucarachas crawl
I keep my head up and it won't fall, no not at all
I'll break yo' jaw like I break the law, leave you all in all
And the ride is so clean, you won't know what you saw
I sit low with a tall can, in a brown bag
With a brown rag, bouncin' a brown rag
Wit' the Mexican flag and the American flag
Hittin' the fronts and the backs, watchin' out for the badge

[Paul Wall:]
Home boy, Big T, better known as Tyrone
Is the first person I ever seen wit' a Chevy on chrome
My partner got it, bought the slab, wine berry over gold
With screens in the head rests, just to let you know we holdin'
I fell in love wit' it, and I dropped off some cash
Now that's me you see, flippin' slab, ridin' on glass
How much it cost? Don't ask, baby just know this
I could've bout a Benz instead wit' the money I spent

[Hook:]
Cherry '64 (my lowrider), hop in the low-low (my my lowrider)
Chrome hydraulics, all-black Impala (my my lowrider, my my lowrider)
Three-wheelin' the '64 (my lowrider), hop in the low-low (my my lowrider)
Chrome hydraulics, all-black Impala (my my lowrider, my my lowrider)

[The Game:]
My '64 sittin' on that chrome, chrome glock sittin' on my lap
Three hoes ridin' in the back, candy paint, nigga fuck with that
Three-wheel motion I'm sittin' high, Daytona's that's all we ride
Hit that switch it's do or die, ride on me, that's suicide
I be in the hood smokin' that green, Dr. Dre know what I mean
Swisha Sweet and them purple leaves, California, we got that weed
Black diamonds off in my chain, ask around niggas know my name
Compton's own, the rap LeBron James, ridin' low, I'm switchin' lanes

[WC:]
Make that brain splat, 30 thang-thang clap
Known for the game rap, wit' the chrome frame wrap
From Harley-Davidson's to low-low's, we do tip 'em
13-hundred spokes wit' that blue nipple, get the picture
Disrespect, I'ma draw slugs
But ain't no set trippin' 'cause nigger it's all love
Dub-C drop the real on 'em, Chevy chrome grill on 'em
Posin' in the intersection, three-wheelin' on 'em nigga

[Ice Cube:]
Raspberry '64 bring your cherry, and
We can make a Sunday, come home Monday
I'm sittin' on the one-way, up on the boulevard
Act hard, put yo' thoughts on the dashboard
'Cause if I come through wit' the little homie
Nobody better fuck wit' the little homie
I hope Compton unite, South Central unite
I hope my chrome, dance wit' the moonlight

[Hook:]
Cherry '64 (my lowrider), hop in the low-low (my my lowrider)
Chrome hydraulics, all-black Impala (my my lowrider, my my lowrider)
Three-wheelin' the '64 (my lowrider), hop in the low-low (my my lowrider)
Chrome hydraulics, all-black Impala (my my lowrider, my my lowrider)

mixtape: "Young Boss: Volume 1" (2004)

Bitch Niggas '04 lyrics - Crooked I

You know what's mind bothering
Niggaz be acting like bitches, you know
Man why you sign to Death Row?
Get out my business bitch
Man why you leave Death Row?
Nigga, it's always business, it's never personal homie
Get it right

I see you motherfuckers, I see you over there
And I know you wanna fuck with me
I got my eyes on you suckers
But I don't really care
Cause I keep a burner tucked with me

Yeah, niggaz is under aware
I'm their worst fucking nightmare
Send shots to the night air cause I don't fight fair
Watch you die right there, without a slight care
Like: "Yeah nigga, youse a snake"
Type of nigga that get mad over the moves you make
Look at the rules you break
You choose to hate, shake your friend when he loose his cake
You dudes is fake, bitch niggaz
When the guns cock, choose your fate
Click triggers, when I bust glocks, loose your face
Ditch diggers, with one shot, its news at eight
We six figure, then a thug got loot to chase
A rich nigga, we ballin' while you fuckers in the drought
Cause if it ain't about the money, tz, what the fuck is it about
Catch me in them beach houses, straight thuggin' in the south
With my nigga Humpty Hump, punchin' you suckers in the mouth
Droppin' a matter frightenin' rate
Striking at lightning's pace, one slice, your lungs pipes deflate
Mad at me cause your ice is fake
I got B.O.S.S. written across my license plate
Life is great, bitch nigga

I see you motherfuckers, I see you over there
And I know you wanna fuck with me
I got my eyes on you suckers
But I don't really care
Cause I keep a burner tuck with me

It's More Than Music lyrics - Crooked I

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

Boss Nigga Now lyrics - Crooked I

[Intro:]
What is it all about huh?
What the fuck is it about?
I'm readin an article and they tryin to tell me
I'm jealous of Kurupt's album droppin
What you mean by that, I want all my niggaz to sell on the West
I hope my nigga hit diamond this time
I ain't never been a hater nigga
It's not my motherfuckin veins boy
Real nigga music

[Hook: x4]
Do they hate me now
Cause I'm a boss nigga now

[Over the Hook]
Do you hate me nigga?
yeah, I don't know my nigga
I'm still the same nigga
Do they hate me now?
yeah, I ain't switched nigga
I'm a business man
Let's go...

How many niggaz wanna know the reason I left from Death Row
right after Suge said I was the Best on the westcoast
my pay check over there had me dressing in fresh clothes
with jewelry around my neck I was sexing the best hoes
wasn't a damn thang, you can tell me when I spited
rocking the same chain Makaveli represented
ready to aim thangs when it was deadly I was wit it
pistols would Bang Bang I put shellys in Ya fitted
Fuck It I frontlined it
Got in to beef behind it
the comeback, I was blinded
the contrack I signed it
whoever was braking bread with me That's who I was aligned with
after they did that this cat was one track minded
Ride for the label I'm fatal I'm able to disable any unstable finagler
nigga brought to the table
4 years later I'm Riding no matter what the cause
but it was time to go so I could be my own BOSS MOTHAFUCKA

[Hook: Till The End]
Do they hate me now
Cause I'm a boss nigga now

40 Barz lyrics - Crooked I

Yeah, Crooked keep a German Luger, a Bazooka and three vest
He's not from Cash Money but man he's fresh
Ever since I was a baby I was about them millions
All about my paper like my name was Slim Williams
We kill like we primitive, warn women and children
Them wig pillin' henchman have just entered the building, toaten' things with 'em
See I've been packing heaters since niggaz was wearin' adidas
With no strings in 'em, Crookeds flow bring venom
I'm hungry as if my pockets had no G's in 'em
Unload heat hit 'em, the strap spark it
You collapse on a shack carpet, the gat's heartless
Watch it hit the exact target, act hard bitch
we love it when cats start shit
Kill 'em and sell their vital organs on the black market
How many songs must I fucking record?
That a thug [?], till he's runnin' the board
Fuck a couple awards; I want the cover of Forbes
Nigga try to stop that is gettin' stucked with a sword
You don't need nicotine to put a hole in your lung like emphysema
Cause I can do it quick with this trigger finger
Attitude on the mic like Ike when he was sick of Tina
Switch the demeanor, when I'm in a 360 Modena
Fuck a subpoena, a felony or a misdemeanor
Nigga wanna snitch on me, watch how quickly I click the Nina
Yeah, rappers think they hot enough to do me
I'm way ahead of you nigga, you need binoculars to view me
I suck you up and if you think I'm popular then sue me
Your body's poppin' up in two weeks
That don't rhyme, this insane cat don't mind, to add on line
I spit game like Pat O'Brien, big thangs, I don't plan on dyin'
My nick name is Spit flame, quick aim, I keep my hand on iron
And I don't really wanna have to point this pistol at your throat
And send you to somebody who took the Hippocratic oat
Switch it up, each rhyme is vivid, each line is I live it
It's a movie, nigga, these are some cinematic quotes
Your verse sound plastic, just another hers bound bastard
In a dirt ground casket, Crooked is a first round draft pick
In the first round get your ass kicked and die in the first round blasted

Renegade '04 lyrics - Crooked I

Uhh
This for my niggaz
Sometimes I wonder if niggaz still love this rap shit, man
Or y'all motherfuckers only like beats and hooks
It's all good I Ain't mad
I just... nigga
Yeah
This for my niggaz tho
My real ass niggaz
Real nigga music
Hold on

Sometimes I wonder to myself why I'm so vicious and hostile
With a love for gangsta shit thats deep as christians with gospel
And I'm thuggin with a clique of apostles
Artistically I'ma stay sick as Picasso
'Til the niggaz are fossil, 'til the niggaz are artifact
Any cardiac procedures for me
do it in the ghetto cause that's where my heart is at
So if I ever had a heart attack
You shock treatment on the street to bring this artist back
We clear? I feel like this is my autobiography
Make each rhyme freeze time like the art of photography
I can't explain how growing up in poverty bothered me
Gangbangers fathered me, taught me the science of robbery
So I was cockin pistols, when Kris dropped "My Philosophy"
Dropped outta school with an IQ higher than Socrates
Who knew, beein a hoodlum was my outcome
In the 60's, Could've been a muslim named Malcolm
How come, everybody in america's mouth run
Talking about us bad, when you made us pull out guns
Gave my people crack, counter attack that with the RICO act
That's why them penitentiary's be so packed
but if you peep through the key whole black
you see those crackers sittin on the kilo stack
I ain't racist I just wonder where our heroes at
We roll strapped, please know that, we load gats
Send three shots through your moschino hat
Sip some 'Gnac, lean on back, this is gangsta
Movin through the hood in a McLaren FL
Wearin a vest and a gun, bangin KRS-One
just when y'all niggaz thought the terror era was done
a nigga scared to speak, I never was one
So fuck Bill O'Reilly tryin to block my door
You just a racist like half of these L.A. cops I know
I keep a glock ready to lock n load
I steel your soul like elvis stole rock n roll
I'm so political, then again I'm so gangsta that it's pitiful
I squeeze with ease when y'all find it difficult

[x2:]
Crooked is a renegade, I never been afraid
Double r slugs, how many scars can it penetrate
Miggaz wanna lock me in a box, put me in a cage
Cause I speak the real shit whenever I'm center stage

Run '04 lyrics - Crooked I (feat. Ghostface Killah)


Yeah, let's bring it over here to the LAPD man
Uh Oh
Whenever 5-0 hit, my mind's speakin' on some survival shit
I'm an Outlaw, 5-0 is who I'm rivals with
So I'm out y'all, like they quit
Quicker than a slug that a rifle spit
A thug quicker than Michael bit
Run, Gestapo's comin' up fast so I gotta dash
We hood stars and they never wanted a autograph
One of the homies didn't run and they shot his ass
He paralyzed now and can't move his bottom half
Standin' still is the silly plan
Even if I gotta snatch a innocent bitch right out of her mini van
I knock you off in [?] and wouldn't give a damn
They respondin' with shots fire
I'm the trigger man
I run, I'm ditchin' out fools
They never [?]
Penitentiary time and Crooked I just don't miss
Plus my homies incarcerated told me to stay on the bricks
So I

[Hook: Ghostface Killah]
Run! If you sell drugs in the school zone
Run! If you getting' chased with no shoes on
Run! Fuck that! Run! Cops got, guns!
They givin' out life like bird tons
Run! If you ain't do shit, you it
That next felony nigga, it's like three zip
So, Run! Hop fences, jump over benches!
When you see me comin' get the fuck out the entrance!
Run! Fuck that! Run! Cops got guns! Motherfucker...

Damn, these motherfuckers are on my ass man
I gotta make it back to motherfuckin' Long Beach Boulevard, fuck

Welcome To Lbc lyrics - Crooked I (feat. The Dynamic)

Some of you niggaz owe me an apology
Talking extra large shit
Still knowing that your skills is smaller than Nanotechnology
Don't you know your camp be smaller than ant colony
When I say don't challenge me
That's reverse psychology
Ever since 8 Mile battles fascinate America
Free a pay style
Crooked'll assassinate your character
This man will straight embarrass ya
Then when I'm sick of your aryan ass
Pull out the mac and evacuate the area
You ain't got skills
I'm surprised you got deals
I been in princess cuts, sluts and hot wheels
Your wack ass is not real
Don't make me act a "Jackass" like Johnny Knoxville
When I cock steel
I waste rap has-beens
Leave you in a trash bin
Asshole naked with your face mask bashed in
Your hoe wants me
I takes that ass then
She gave me face and said it tastes like lamb skin
Labels tell me "Come blow us up"
Since I left from Death Row they wanna know whats up
Some of 'em got they own agenda, wanna slow us up
This one's for all of my niggaz, they wanna know whats what
Got my own organization, we 20 men deep
Dynasty slappin your face, nigga
My city been sleep, my semi sent heat
If niggaz don't act like they 5 pairs of legs and give me ten feet


mixtape: "Westcoasanostra: Volume One" (2003)

Death Row's Back lyrics - Crooked I

[Intro:]
Lights out in this bitch
Sit your ass in that chair
You ain't goin' nowhere nigga
[gun cocks] Got this heater ready
Will even crack ya ass over tha head witta bottle
Whatever the fuck we gotta do to let you know..

[Verse 1:]
That ain't no nigga sicker then me
I'm as sick as can be
They get offended when I'm rippin' tha beat
You can't get dough quicker then me
Cause in particularly
I get figures like I'm flippin' some D[?]
I don't know whatchu claim but I'm pro wit' the aim
Nigga the Crooked'll put a whole in ya brain
Stick pole in ya dame make her strow witta caine(sp?)
Notorious label and Death Row is tha name, huh
Money and power and I devour cowards
Wit' bullets that come in a thousands miles and hour
How's about get tha [?] wit' tha shower
Witcha house wit' bullets that might knock down towers
[?]
Punk motherfuckers wanna fuck wit' me
Get wild, get drawn then I shoot ya team
Niggaz gettin' slumped uncomfortably
Get a slug for free, I got a thug degree
In ya motherfuckin' faces witta' bumper bee
Killa enemy, in any vicinity
Wit' the mini machine gun, offendin' me and my company (Tha Row!)
You niggaz can't fuck wit' that
Rubbin' ya guns but where you bustas at?
Pull up at the club and get out the truck wit' gats
Death Row's Back now what's up wit' that?

[Chorus: x2]
You can do what you want but can't stop this here
We got niggaz on the block in fear
Some gangsta shit is about to drop this year
Our rise to the top is near
You been waitin' around for that West Coast shit
Ghetto ass out from the Death Row clique
If you a hustler then check yo crip
If you a hater then you can suck a dick..

[Outro:]
Suck A Dick...

Quit Snitchin' lyrics - Crooked I

[Talking:]
Whoo! Y'all know we had to flip this shit right
We to ghetto to let this one sneak past us
Fuck that! Ey Vegas, let's tell 'em what we say
Evrytime we see a stool pigeon rat..

[Intro: x2]
Don't snitch, don't be a bitch
West Coast let's get rich
Flood the industry wit' gangsta hits
Smack some ass and grab some tits
Don't snitch, don't be a bitch
East Coast let's get rich
Flood the industry wit' gangsta hits
Smack some ass and grab some tits...

[Verse 1:]
What's it all about?
You dudes can't come out the house
Made to many enemies, you runnin' ya mouth
Now you on lock down, sittin' on the couch
Talkin' to cops you need really to cut it out man
Picture Crooked I lovin' a snake, you get robbed for dough
You get shot fo' sho' youknow
That ain't gangsta you son of a bitch
Givin' cops the info they not suppose to know
And they own evry block from coast to coast
Tellin' on who ever cock and grows the most
Send a nigga up the river if a snitch is around
You better lock and close ya doors
See I'ma rep my city for ever, yeah
Roll wips on 20's or better
Pointin' many machine guns, semi-auto beretta
And my enemies sweater like gimme the cheddar, yeah
Crooked live illegal as hell
Send a couple kites to my people in jail
Think about this when you readin' your mail
These niggaz be eager to tell...

[Chorus: x2]
See I been hopin' and wishin'
All you rappers Quit Snitchin'
Always talkin' to the police
Tryena send my homeboyz to prison
That ain't good where I'm from
Whoever hang around you is dumb
Cuz they know you work wit' the po-po
Crooked I, ain't the one...

[Verse 2:]
Now I done seen you on the TV-screen
Snitchin' to cops, you was on channel 13
Now you try to say that you the west coast king
What tha fuck does this skinny nigga mean
Sold out cheap, you won't play ya own team
Shoulda let me out ya whole little sceam
Mention my name and when you see me better swing
Talkin' 'bout peace in the Source magazine
Nope, to late for that, I wanna brake your back
I can't wait to swap[?], catch you in the alley
Just to snake and rat you better face the fact
You ain't gangsta rap, you a federalé
Need to live by the code of the street
I think about you when I'm loadin' my heat
But I'd rather thow blows to ya teeth
Cuz I was always talkin', shootin' hoe's is weak

I'm still feelin adrenaline with the pistol when I'm peel'em
then kill'em like a villian with the penicillin when the
bullets... drillin'em
spinnin'em a whole round and I'm peelin'em
the villain is willin'em to keep beef to a minimum

WOO!
Crooked I's the one
Snitch ass niggaz need to hide and run
Go to the club and we ride wit' guns
But really though we just wanna have fun...

[Chorus: x2]
See I been hopin' and wishin'
All you rappers Quit Snitchin'
Always talkin' to the police
Tryena send my homeboyz to prison
That ain't good where I'm from
Whoever hang around you is dumb
Cuz they know you work wit' the po-po
Crooked I, ain't the one...

Fuc-Wid-Us lyrics - Crooked I

Ya really don't Wanna Fuck Wit Us and that's whats up
We keep them pistols in the stash no matter what
Ya really don't Wanna Clash With Us
Ya really don't want our gats to bust

Too all my gangstas grab your straps off the shelf
Niggaz is murderin in them streets, please protect yourslf
Listen! These Niggaz out here talking about me every day
But if they come at me Ima have to blow them Niggaz away (BLAAAOW)
Tuck in your gat, Nigga you ain't thuggin, your nuthin but rats
Stuck in trap, Nigga run up get a slug in your back
Killin you Niggaz over oil like President Bush
The shern oil jacked the shit hit the ghetto and push
One, Two, Three, Fuck with us and you'll be R.I.P
So if ya don't want ya heartbeat to stop
Then walk away before my gun pop
Leave me alone, pack chrome, gat long, back no, cat go, leave a Niggaz back
blown, Soon as he act grown
Nigga my gat crack bones, Cats won't last long singin ya last song, A Nigga
wont even make it back home

Ya really don't wanna fuck with us and that's whats up
We keep them pistols in the stash no matter what
Ya really don't Wanna Clash With Us
Ya really don't want our gats to bust

Up against the West Coast Nigga that squeezed the most triggas
And Fucked the most Bitches and touched the most riches
The four is on switches, the Benzes is so vicious
We stay ghetto for life...MY Nigga
Crooked Ain't Real? You Confusing me my Nigga
How you double cross me? You used to be my Nigga
Niggaz cry rivers, soon as we fly triggas, Five hit you, that's how lead
poison travel inside livers
Tie you to a bumper, drag you by your adam's apple
And laugh as your skin unravels as you travel across gravel
So Why You Wanna Fuck Wit Me? I keep a Ak, a P-90 and Desert E
I pop up quick, Be where you thought I never Be
from outta nowhere I giver your Coogi sweater three

Crooked I others songs:

Baby (Remix) lyrics - Crooked I(feat. Ashanti)

[Ashanti]
I remember feelin like this...

[Chorus: Ashanti]
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby, I love you)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...

[Ashanti]
I got the jomes forming in my bones (From a man)
Who indeed took over my soul (Understand)
I couldn't breathe if he ever said (He would leave)
Get on my knees, til there bloody red (Baby please)
See I don't know if you get it yet (Just don't know)
He's like the lighter to my cigarette (Wacth me smoke)
I never knew another human life (Didn't know)
Who got the power to take over mine, so baby, baby

[Crooked I]
Yo, I love my R & B, P's man
She be in the shower singin "Shockin Car Sweet Thang"
But I'm on the block, gutter thuggin where the G's hang
Cuz all of my father figures came from a street gang
It's Crooked I, ridin wit me more
She top notch, dog a bently is sore
She keep her body covered in Christian Deor (Wow)
Plus she's ready to ride wit me in war
Who can ask for more? Me and my...

[Chorus: Ashanti]
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby, I love you)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...

[Ashanti]
See I can never feel alone with you (In my life)
I'll give up everything I own for you (Won't think twice)
Almost a shame how I'm mesmerised (Such a shame)
I lose my thought lookin in your eyes (I know, I)
Because your kisses make my lips quiver (And that's real)
And when you touch me my whole body shivers (I can feel)
Now I can see how another life (Another life)
Could the power to take over mine (Cuz your my)

[Chorus: Ashanti]
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby, I love you)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...

[Ashanti (Crooked I)]
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(You wit the I, we gon ride til we die ya know)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(Ya wit the two by my side we always gon survive fo'-sho')
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(Yo, yo lets get this money huh, let's get this paper right)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(Whenever it's the ROW and Murder Inc it's a done deal when we link)

[Crooked I (Ashanti)]
And tell me, who could ever picture
That me and you would be together forever
I'm a gangsta, they said I'd never get ya (Baby)
I'm runnin the turf, you want me comin to church
How can I come, when I know I keep guns under my shirt
I love the street life, But that there love is a curse
And I when I think about livin without you
(Baby, I love you) Nothin is worse
I got my lil' mommaz back, it's more than just hoppin in the sack
I guess I posses a track, you my...

[Chorus: Ashanti]
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby, I love you)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...

[Ashanti (Crooked I)]
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(You wit the I, we gon ride til we die ya know)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(Ya wit the two by my side we always gon survive fo'-sho')
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(Yo, yo lets get this money huh, let's get this paper right)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(Whenever it's the ROW and Murder Inc it's a done deal when we link)

[Chorus: Ashanti]
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Baby, I love you)
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
Love it when I heard your name, got me sayin...

(Baby...)

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