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Crooked I (KXNG Crooked)

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"Shady's #1 (Freestyle)"

"Shady's #1 (Freestyle)"


Yo, Slaughterhouse is the movement
C.O.B./S.M.H. is the new venture
Eminem is a genius, yo Paul is a boss
Shout out Yelawolf, salute to D12
Rest in peace Proof, let's get it
Shady's #1, Shady's #1... (GO! GO!)
Shady's #1, Shady's #1...

Got that #1 hip-hop album out there so I bought that whip
Nigga said Crooked was garbage, meanwhile his bitch won't get off my dick
Niggaz wanna front on the guy, if I was you homie I would get off that quick
Got the charts goin up on a Tuesday, fuck that, I'ma top that shit (yeah)
Shady's #1, Shady's #1
A nigga said Crooked was garbage, meanwhile his bitch won't get off my dick
Shady's #1, Shady's #1
Got the charts goin up on a Tuesday, fuck that, I'ma top that shit

I was talkin to Paul in New York the other day, he said "Crooked, this a great year"
The (Shady 15) went #1 on iTunes, I guess a statement was made clear
I came home, went straight to the booth, I'm doin everything you snakes fear
Killin rappers right and left, bringin more death than Macbeth, a modern day Shakespeare
Yeah, spittin bars in a (Cxvpher) while I'm filmin in the heart of the city, that was some G shit
Yeah, mentionin Ferguson and Darren Wilson in the middle of that rap, that's some me shit
Yeah, I'm from the City by the Sea so you know the flow wavy and might get you seasick
You're fallin off, I'm watchin your career slide down that mountain like I'm sittin on a ski lift
I'm just spittin on a remix, cause the boy loco with the rhyme flow
Somethin everybody know like GEICO, (Psychopath Killer) goin Michael
(Sex, Money, Hip-Hop) is all I know - I'm in my crib and I'm chillin in my (House Slippers)
Thinkin 'bout how the industry treated me, (Some Love Lost) but I'm in my (PRhyme) though!
Shady's #1 - we got the charts goin loco (we #1 nigga!)
But (Y'all Ready Know) though (y'all 'ready know)
I'm (Hammer Dancin) with my fo'-fo'
(Kxng Crooked, do you have any words for the police?) FUCK the po-po!
Cause the pig Darren Wilson wanna see a nigga like Kxng Crooked on ice
Cyber Monday man, the consequences of killin a very low price
You're mad Ray got reinstated, you're focused on the wrong Rice
Cops pull up, kill a kid with a pellet gun, they ain't even think twice
Tamir, so I roll up on the cops playin "Psychopath Killer"
Hockey mask in the duffel bag, throwin bullets like a Pittsburgh Steeler
As a matter of fact, I'm namin my rifle Mac Miller
Cause it's aimin for your faces, you gon' think you're (Watching Movies When it Sound Off)
Then I'ma let Snoop tell you what the case is (murder was the case that they gave me)
This time we kill 'em with the charts, Crooked is intelligent, I kill 'em with the smarts
It's a brand new era, I'm talkin 'bout for me, God bless the Kxng, you gon' feel it when it starts
I promise, deadly the flows is, and what a lot of people knows is
I've been a (Kxng) before the name change mayne, I put that on Moses

December 16th, "Sex, Money & Hip-Hop" mixtape
Ice Man on the motherfuckin boards
Kxng Crooked in the booth, Slaughterhouse behind me
COB! Shady's #1, Shady's #1, yeah
Y'all know man, couple people actin like they don't know, hahaha
I like Odd Future, hahaha
I like y'all Odd Future niggaz man, haha
That nigga Tyler said, "Shady XV was ass"
Young nigga though, heh
And I like that nigga so you know, it's all good
Nothin I do is ass though, I will not partake, hahaha
Yo, do niggaz have man-crushes on Em?
I need to know, the people need to know
It's COB nigga!
 
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"Shoot Back (Dear Officer)"
(with Tech N9ne)

"Shoot Back (Dear Officer)"
(with Tech N9ne)



[KXNG CROOKED:]
(Low-born citizens. You have violated the anti-protest coordinates. We are authorized to use deadly force. We are authorized to use deadly force. You have violated the anti-protest coordinates. We are authorized to use deadly force)

Once upon a time in the slums a group of people stood up to a corrupt system. And they were all slaughtered. So what did the next generation do? Shoot back

To the police, what kind of beast do you have to become
To kill a child so young? He was just having some fun
Dear officer, would you shoot if that was your son?
You pull us over, now we contemplating capital one
You shoot me in my back and plant a weapon after it's done
How much time you get for killing me? The answer is none
You ain't from around here
So why don't you just go back where you're from?

Two little boys came and knocked on my door and said, "the police just shot your son twice in his stomach". So my...

Hey, yo, them robocops just tear-gassed a protest
And you don't wanna fight back
Congratulations, my nigga, you passed the hoe test
Just another male in need of some Kotex
You'll be fitted for the rope next
They gon' hang you up just like coat checks
They killed your people in front of you, what you wanna do?
You already know what I'm gonna do, pick up a gun or two
You picking up your sneakers like runners do, but where you running to?
Ain't nowhere to hide when your own cowardice is hunting you
Take a look at yourself, man, your mirror got the W
You got the L, you motherfucker you
We was sitting in church praying the Lord may forgive us
But an agent of the puppet master was there praying with us
Little did we know this disloyal snake was coiled on our own grass, plotting on different ways he could kill us
Then he walked to his vehicle, came back and sprayed major pillars of the community
The act wasn't lunacy
He knew just what he was doing, true indeed
He was carrying out a mission to kill you or me
Mission accomplished to a tee
Unity and all the hope it brings
Just became a nightmare in the reflection of our broken dreams
See, we welcomed you with open arms then you opened fire
So it seems we can't trust a soul by no means, nah
The enemies out here training to hold his chopper right
Meanwhile shooting at each other, that taught us how to fight
Damn shame we put each other under the doctor's knife
In surgery fighting for this punk-ass shit we call our life
We supposed to be smoking them robocops
That'll make the big picture look better like photoshop
I know you hope it stop, I know it's not, I'm loading shots
In a.357 three minutes before 4 O'clock
I know, to keep a gun in my waist, never fearing snakes
Tears dried up on my face, my spirit aches
Sitting here in wakes for people who irreplacable
We get bad luck whether the mirrors breaks or not
Imagine coming fresh out the womb
And the system already got your name written across your tomb
You a flower, you just wanna bloom
Unassuming that the government's mad villains, them MF'ers want your doom
So you're disproportionally incarcerated
After all these years, still the most hated

To the police, what kind of beast do you have to become
To kill a child so young? He was just having some fun
Dear officer, would you shoot if that was your son?
You pull us over, now we contemplating capital one
You shoot me in the back and plant a weapon after it's done
How much time you get for killing me? The answer is none
You ain't from around here
So why don't you back where you're from?

[Tech N9ne:]
If you ain't a rebel you ain't shit. If you ain't fight the love of your family, what the fuck are you here for? If you ain't gripping and grinding and building for your loved ones to protect them from the evil people who run this motherfucker, get the fuck out of the way. Real niggas takin' over, baby. Listen to Crook. The cigar-smoking boss. Man up
 
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"Shoot Back 2 (Dear Officer) / Train Tracks"

"Shoot Back 2 (Dear Officer) / Train Tracks"


I see my sister fighting, and then I...see them both on the ground and I'm trying to get my sister, and then Officer Santos came and he, he picked me up and then he...slammed me, slammed me on the ground
I tell 'em you ain't gotta heartbeat or a soul but I'm gonna murder ya
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, you a robocop I'ma short-circuit ya
You did the hood dirty, I'ma do you dirtier
I'm standing over the face of a cop with a Glock, end of the story
I'ma take y'all back 20 hours earlier
This what set off the nonsense
A cop walks in to break up a simple fight but he body slam a teenage girl unconscious
They don't see us as human beings, they see monsters
Police academy brainwash them, the FOX News corp brainwashed them
And when the Empire puts chips in your brain, forget it mane
Shit you say niggas can't stop 'em
They murderers, crazy in the head, compassion for none
They don't look at you and see a man, they see some alien stare
That's why I'm asking, to the police what kind of beast do you have to become
To kill a child so young that was having some fun
Would you have shot Tamir if that was your son?
You pull us over, we contemplating Capital One
Go back where you're from, I'm strapped with a drum
A MAC, if you cap you get clapped in the lung
You crashed in the slums feeling like you didn't want it to stop
Get clapped in the back if you run
You left [?] paraplegic, police did the deed in the [?]
The upper class, they in a trance cuz even if they ask and they still alive, they might never believe it
Under hypnosis, the empire hit 'em with their memory wipers
So they don't remember they liked us
If they don't see us as human beings, they don't give a fuck if our enemies snipe us
I've told 'em you ain't gotta heartbeat or a soul but I'm gonna murder ya
Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop, you a robocop I'ma short circuit ya
You did the hood dirty, I'ma do you dirtier
Standing over the face of a cop with a Glock, with only one shot End of the story
Just like I said earlier
The observer takes many forms. The observer collects human data
Suffering is ageless, oppression is timeless
Let's go back. The year is 1932
The place: anywhere
I got nowhere to go (I got nowhere to go)
Cuz they kicked in my door (Cuz they kicked in my door)
Then they kill all my folks (Then they kill all my folks)
And they took all my hope (And they took all my hope)
I'm on the train tracks (Train tracks)
I'm on the train tracks (I'm on the train tracks)
I ain't coming round here again (Coming round here again)
Till I get myself some payback (Get my self some payback)
He slept all night at the railroad tracks with no knapsack
His own back was his bed
He just kicked back, relaxing his head on an old back pack
Dreaming about leaving town and never go back
But this is no Amtrak, this is the freight train
Heard some brakes grinding and squeaking
Woke him up, climbed to his feet
He started running alongside the train, timing his leap, and dove in with tears dried to his cheek, cuz he was crying in his sleep
His heart beat fast, he's skipping town with everything he has; his clothes, his life and his past, got a nightmarish past
See it was April 19th, the night he saw Templar knights, cross embossed on a white sheet
Eight men came in
But this family just tryna get a good night's sleep
They slaughtered them like sheep
Before they cut his mother to the white meat
He told her her younger son to run
Hopped out the window and hit the side street
Look back in torment and see his father's body dormant, hanging like a ornament on a pine tree
"Why me?"
Death came riding on horses, survivors of Forrest's
Of course he has survivor's remorse, that night was the source of it
What changed the course of his life and morphed it into the life of an orphan
Before then, shit was perfect
Now he's raising himself on the streets, doing odd jobs on a different circuit
He's shining white men's shoes, they call him nigga while the kid is working
But he's plotting revenge so this shit is worth it
He put himself through college with that polish
His past, he would demolish it with knowledge
But he promised to avenge the death of his mama and father, so he hid his murderous vendetta behind the persona of a scholar
Some white men really befriended
But others he simply pretended, his memories trigger resentment
Memories of the misery he mentally lived with
Misery, you figure his success would instantly end it
Nah, cuz one day he walked to the coffee shop
Waiting for a cup of joe, longer than he ever waited
He's at the back door cuz integration was regulated
The owner know he educated, but still it was segregated
He sitting there, thinking "damn even getting coffee is a hurdle"
Then he heard that made his blood curdle
The same voice from that forsaken night
The same voice that told his mama I'm about to take your life
The voice that told his mom this is my favorite knife
Then pushed it in her gut and told her say goodnight
The thirst for revenge became too hard to stop
Knew he wouldn't get no justice if he called a cop
Ran inside with a old pistol his father bought
People shouting, like "who let this nigga in this coffee shop?"
The voice of the killer was heard loudly
"I'll kick this nigga out right now and do it proudly!"
That's when the black man pulled his gun, he drew it wildly
The crowd jumped, he pointed it at the killer and told him
"I'll be damned if I let you get away with what you did, I've been waiting to kill you with my father's gun since I was a kid"
One, two, three shots, four, five, six
Dreamin' of this day, he didn't know it would go like this
None of this is planned, one minute he's ordering some coffee
Next minute the gun is in his hand, the life of the person that murdered his mother in his hand, so he took it
Then he looked at his daddy's gun, tucked it in his pants, and...ran
I remember the people coming in, white people coming into our house, with torches, setting the curtains on fire
I got nowhere to go (I got nowhere to go)
Cuz they kicked in my door (Cuz they kicked in my door)
Then they kill all my folks (Then they kill all my folks)
And they took all my hope (And they took all my hope)
I'm on the train tracks (Train tracks)
I'm on the train tracks (I'm on the train tracks)
I ain't coming round here again (Coming round here again)
Till I get my self payback (Get my self payback)
Everybody was just standing around, nobody said anything, didn't want nothing, 'till finally a rude old white man came up to there and said, "Nigga, what you doing with that pistol?"
 
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"Sick Of Being Broke"
(feat. Emanny)

"Sick Of Being Broke"
(feat. Emanny)



[KXNG CROOKED:]
My homie said what up, I told him dawg I can't call it
Digging into my pocket, ain't got a dollar in my wallet
Got me drinking this vodka till I fall like an alcoholic
I'm so sick of being broke I'm ready to vomit on the carpet
I tried to find a job to avoid the thought of hurling
But ever single person treating me worse than Donald Sterling
Lying to my face, they said they ain't have no more positions
Then hired the dude behind me because he had a different pigment
I'm sick of being broke, man, fuck a piece of ass
See my mother needs some cash, nigga my bucket needs some gas
My homies pushing dope, it's so tough for me to ask
For some help I had to, they finally fuck with me at last
Told me they had some work they needed a nigga to Tennessee
And if I get it there I'm getting a G off every key
Penitentiary chances, y'all know how that work
I'm driving to Tennessee rocking dockers and a church shirt
[KXNG CROOKED (Emanny):]
I'm sick of being broke, I'm sick of being broke
Last night I shared a tear, man, a nigga need some hope
I'm running out of options, at the end of my rope
I ain't a bad guy, I'm just sick of being broke
(I'm not asking for everything
I don't need much, I don't need much
I'm just tired of struggling
So sick now, I'm sick of being broke)
[KXNG CROOKED:]
My homie said what up, I told him dawg I can't call it
Hundreds in my pocket dollars all in my Prada wallet
The way I'm popping bottles y'all would think I was alcoholic
Woozy on the club couch, ready to vomit on they carpet
I reminisce when I was on the block without a cent
Digging into my pocket all a nigga got was cotton lint
Telling my conscience I'm still honest because I pay my mama's rent
This hustle never lasts forever, I still got some common sense
Yeah, I'm getting money, but the walls are closing in
Homies getting busted doing their time up in the pen
Other homies can't be trusted dropping dimes on they friends
I'm wondering if I'm next while I recline in my Benz
So man rainy days, but this paper made it sunny
At the Staples watching the Lakers hanging with a gang of hunnies
And now that I'm making money haters wanna take it from me
Paranoid I know them boys watching, man, I ain't a dummy
I'm just sick of being broke
[KXNG CROOKED (Emanny):]
I'm sick of being broke, I'm sick of being broke
Last night I shared a tear, man, a nigga need some hope
I'm running out of options, at the end of my rope
I ain't a bad guy, I'm just sick of being broke
(I'm not asking for everything
I don't need much, I don't need much
I'm just tired of struggling
So sick now, I'm sick of being broke)
 
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06.07.2010
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"So Damn Hood"
(feat. Sisqo)

"So Damn Hood"
(feat. Sisqo)



[Crooked I: x2]
It feels so good, when you so damn hood

[Crooked I]
Peep me out though
You niggas soft outta control, on your next video
You probably do the splits like the godfather of soul
While I'm rottweiler patrol, first I clock dollars
Then I pop collars with hoes, I got a problem with foes
Still in the club, hot boy dropping them bows
Nigga, Crooked I is the one that chicks adore
They put their lips on my dick and give me chips and more
Yall should stop, you off the block you faking
I walk with glocks, don't talk to cops for nathin
I brought them choppers in case of al-ter-cation
I aims and pops in the face of confrontation
Speaking raw terror, I'll have your momma picking paul bearers
Broke niggas, yea, y'all error
Got to show 'em how to new age rap
But I'm still ghetto as the last swallow of Kool-Aid left
We so damn hood

[Chorus: Sisqo]
Pussy out if you would lets get good baby we so damn hood
We ride and another would, its understood that we so damn hood
Bust the script if you would, wish you could, nigga we so damn hood
Everybody feeling good like we should, baby we so damn hood

[Crooked I]
Stop the screaming, can't nobody in the area to help
If you was homophobic, nigga you'd be scared of yourself
Listen as I, start to whoop ass, why?
Would you try Crooked I, will you die like the last guy
I told you I would put holes riders man
Destiny's Child be the only "Survivors" man
Nigga I been hot, whipping the six drop
Hit you with ten shots, giving me big props
My delivery flip-flops to the tick tock
and it don't stop, giving the big glock
I'm smacking you haters up, stacking the paper
Like I signed an major contract with the Lakers
It's C-R put them with E-R double O trouble blow
Ghetto star haters split your wig
And do the thang in this game 'til I'm O.G. it's Mr. Big

[Chorus]

[Crooked I]
How many wanna know what I love? Holla, niggas who love me
We six deep in the ridiculous humvee
Peeling 50's and dubs off, in the mall
Break your face, like Mike Tyson with his gloves off
I'm so hood and ghetto fo life
I park an five in the driveway and ready to fight
If you think I ride with metal you right
Commenting federal crimes only an federal type
It's like, every where I go, all I know fo' sho'
That this The Row, that we gets the dough
What's the R-O-W like
Slug one and you take your dime because you aint fucking her right
Yea yea I nothin fo life, big pipes stuck in your wife
In the bed it's us and a dyke
You should never get it mixed up, big nuts, get clutched
Thick sluts, get fucked, dick sucked, bitch what? (telll meeeee)

[Chorus x2]
 
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"Song"

"Song"


If you had the chance to change your whole life with one song... what would that song sound like?

Is music truly my calling? 'Cause my community's shockin'
Poverty got us starvin', that's why them toolies be cockin'
Failures in hot pursuit of me crime is soon to be droppin'
No loot to drop in the pocket no opportunity knockin'
See myself living a better life, let my mind travel through heaven escaping this hell
I tell myself, "boy you better write!"
'Cause every lyric is a key to the cell, help me escape from this jail
The whole world need to know who flow the meanest
You won't compete with these Mona Lisa's these masterpieces
You must be smoking baking soda mixed with coke or [?]
This is a stroke of genius with the broken english like a pencil in the hand of God
Given all the prophets that wrote for Jesus to inspire some hope
Except I had no believers, I had to believe in myself
Now I'm sittin' all alone in the zone writin' trying to change my life with a song

If this was the last song, I ever wrote, the last song I ever sang
I hope my words that go through the ages
So when they blow the dust off these pages, They know I'm a king, they know I'm a teacher, they know I'm a prophet they know I'm a leader
I'm the soldier you can lean on
Try to change my life with one song, one song
I'm just tryna change my life with one song
Trying to change my life

People say I would die a dope dealer
Until I picked up a pen and become a hope dealer
I'm being sincere, just writing shit my younger self needed to hear
To make songs realer with no fillers
When it's dark and I'm feeling disgruntled
I'm hoping what I write is the light at the end of the tunnel
Turning tragic into something magic as if I'm rubbing a Latin's lap with my lyrics wishin' for the end of my struggles
When will I be who I'm supposed to be?
I could give you an estimate but I'm only writing part of this song, God writes the rest of it
I guess that's why the flow is heaven sent, and I know life's lessons are meant to test, say that backwards now that's testament
When will I be who I'm supposed to be
Tears gon' drop sometimes, now that's definite
I never question it I'm just focusing on my Exodus
So next time you come to the slums, knock on my door
And if I ain't at home, I changed my life with a song

If this was the last song, I ever wrote, the last song I ever sang
I hope my words that go through the ages
So when they blow the dust off these pages, They know I'm a king, they know I'm a teacher, they know I'm a prophet they know I'm a leader
I'm the soldier you can lean on
Try to change my life with one song, one song
I'm just tryna change my life with one song
Trying to change my life
 
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"Stand"
(feat. Styles P & Emanny)

"Stand"
(feat. Styles P & Emanny)



[Styles P:]
I was always told stand for something or fall for anything
So I stand for what I believe in
Because if I don't, then I will feel like a coward at the end of the day
Um, I feel there's a point you, as a man as a woman as a human being
If you believe in something you gotta say what you believe in
If you're passionate about it you' should always stand up for it
And that's what life's about
Standing up for what you believe in
That's why I push juice, I push health, I push peace
Even tough I'm a gangster rapper cuz thats what I believe in
And that's what I stand for
And whoever don't fuck with that I just fuck 'em cuz that's how I live
Stand for what you believe [?] up
[KXNG Crooked:]
Stand for what you believe in my nigga
Death to whoever don't want us grieving my nigga
Two wrongs don't make a right but it make a season my nigga
So even if they kill me my message is reaching my niggas
They've been this way since America's first independence day
They've been trying to kill us
I'm just writing like Hemingway
Lines that get flagged by the NSA
Not to mention racial tension is thicker
Than mixing Tokyo fisting with Janice Shay
Ignore that divine copy format
Imagine a life form that's treated worse than a doormat
Lower class whites who think you better than poor blacks
Rich whites calling you trailer trash, thats more fat
You mad good, I ain't here to comfort niggas
I'm here to expose a system designed to come for niggas
I hope you're pissed, raise you arm, close your fist
'Till we all can coexist without the fucking bumper stickers
[Emanny:]
Open up your eyes, see what I see
How could you be blind to our needs?
And it's all be designed just to push you aside
If you allow where he keeps struggling for the simple things
If that ain't enough then what will it take to stand up, up?
[KXNG Crooked:]
Black girl get kidnapped without no amber alert
Nobody gives a damn they're rescuing animal first
Since she landed on this scandalous path of dirt
A pervert named Uncle Sam been jamming his damn hand up her skirt
I stand up cuz I'm a guardian protection
Even against you bitch niggas on Twitter
Shitting on her for her darker complexion
And these R n B artists who boycotting chocolate models
It's hard to respect them lets start to correct them
Crooked too real, they hate it when I come around
Crooked too ill, cut 'em a check make 'em dumb it down
If he don't dumb it down block him and keep him underground
My message is the exorcist's devil's heads gets spun a round
Political prisoner's sentenced for life
Because they got influence to make niggas unite
I think about Pac in a penitentiory reading Madonna's letters
While you so called real niggas never sent him a kite
We gotta do better not in the future this shit can happen now
I'm talking real peace treaties between the black and brown
I'm talking trading 'em hand cuffs for the cap and gown
I'm talking standing the fuck up instead of backing down
Ladies and Gentlemen
We are gathered here tonight with every pillar under the sun
United as one
But I wanna know one thing
How come we can't stay united
When the music stops
[Emanny:]
Open up your eyes, see what I see
How could you be blind to our needs?
And it's all be designed just to push you aside
If you allow where he keeps struggling for the simple things
If that ain't enough then what will it take to stand up, up?
 
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"Still Tha Row"
(feat. Virginya Slim)
(from "Dysfunktional Family" soundtrack)

"Still Tha Row"
(feat. Virginya Slim)
(from "Dysfunktional Family" soundtrack)



[Intro: Virginya Slim & Crooked I]
Yeah..
Death Row, baby
(Death Row!)
Heavy hitters
Uh-uh
(Yeah)
(Why am I?)
Crooked I
(Yeah)
(Who are you, though?)
Virginia Slim, baby
(Let 'em know somethin')
That we ain't going nowhere
(Nowhere, niggas)
Second dynasty here
(Yeah)
Play boy
[Crooked I]
Tell me what's all the fuss, one hundred seventy five police
wastin' all of the taxpayer's dollars just to holler at us?
Mad cause the Benzes is hot, the Impalas is plush
Nobody bothered me when I used to hop on the bus
Now the cops follow me, the life of Dominick's rough
They wanna throw a young don in some cuffs
But it's... (still Death Row)
I let 'em know, if they didn't remember
I know, some of you suckas got hidden agendas
But I'm, sick of pretenders
Niggas'd rather stick their dick in a blender
Than to go against the sickest contender
Get your ridiculous click to surrender
My game code is winter when it ends in December
Scoop your chicken and Bend Hurr... tender
You know how young niggas roll
Send ya hoe... to your husband, walking pigeon-toed
The West Coast is ours
Still them other niggas old
Over fifty million sold
[Chorus: Virginya Slim & Crooked I]
It's still Tha Row... ugh
(Baby, we still stackin' money up)
And what we gon' do?
(Lady, we still don't give a fuck)
And how we roll y'all?
(Baby, we still in the club beat)
We represent, what?
(We still represent the streets)
It's still Tha Row
(Baby, we still spendin' star bucks)
And what we throwin' up?
(Sweetheart, we still throw them balls up)
And who we beefin' with?
(We still beefin' with the po-po)
And what they say we is?
(We still ghetto)
It's still Tha Row
[Crooked I]
Some of you gangsta rappers out there poppin' seventy pills
Man, you bangin' on wax cats'll never be real (Marks!)
This ghetto celebrity still do whatever he feel
Look at my billboard, I took a shit on Beverly Hills
That's 'cause it's all about Crooked (Yeah, it's all about green)
Around y'all (We stand tall) As who? (Yao Ming) Y'all mean?
And Crooked keep a heat compartment
I don't speak to rappers that work for the Police Department
Nine milli, I eat your heart with
I seek the target, reach in garments, squeeze diesel vomits
I don't need y'all to start me
Ten million albums sold? Maybe if I look like Paul McCartney
But I'm dark as dark Bacardi, dark as Marcus Garvey
Sparks cigars that start the party... ugh!
And we ain't lettin' suckers in
I got a lovely deal and I own my publishing'
[Chorus]
[Outro 1: Virginya Slim & Crooked I]
Yeah, Red Bone... Queen, Virginia Slim, Miss Gail Gotti
(This for my gangsters)
Representin'... heavy hitters
Death Row, baby
We done slept too long
(And for my hustlers)
Y'all done had y'all time
Now we back
Ready to keep it gangster
(And for my riders)
Yeah... the real ones
The ride or die ones
Come on..
[Crooked I]
And I heard every single word that you say at your show
But when we at the awards ceremony, they have to go
S.W.A.T. Team stormin' the label, one of 'em's even pointing a A.K. at the door
Another day at Tha Row
They say we only out to split wigs
What about the hospital trips givin' gifts to sick kids?
Oh, I see, you want us ALL doing six bids
It's okay, we still big cars and sick cribs, the Death Row way
No way... Crooked came into this game to lose
I'm anxious, I'ma change the rules
I'm dangerous, I'm a gangster Langston Hughes
I'm a mistress that you can't confuse
I'm from Tha Row, so if I piss it'll make the news
[Chorus]
[Outro 2: Crooked I]
Yeah... I know you're lovin' that
Turn on your T.V.... open up a newspaper or somethin'
Read all about us... them ghetto cats
Tryin' to shove us out the game, but they can't
There's a ghetto in every city in America
And I'm from the Big West
Second dynasty... Death Row is back!
Yeah!
All you mutts get off our nuts
Chuuuch!
Ah, ha...!
Ha, ha, ha, ha.
 
fox69

fox69

MODERATOR
Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
Poruka
29.830
"Sumthin From Nuthin"

"Sumthin From Nuthin"


Yeah man, I remember back when a nigga ain't had no money for studio time barely. No muhfuckin' beats, we made our own beats and shit, no producers, we be like, hahah. Nigga would do anything he had to do to get at this hip-hop shit man, anything, know what I'm sayin'? Start beating on the mic like this, for the drum you know, that's the mic. Niggas would rap about some shit they never even fuckin' had, we wanted that shit though. We be like: "Ridin' on some big wheels, bank account 6 mil. Livin' on the street called life, and I'm on that bitch heel." Even though we ain't have no of that shit back then, but we do know though, let me get back at it.

Hair trigger, big still, quick heel, wig peeled
Rapping about the struggle so vivid you know the shit's real
Empty fridge wasn't even 20 [?] simply kids
Not a penny to pitch, fuck it we pitchin Henny lids
To make the pockets bulge, can't divulge shit we did
Risky biz, type of shit that'll get me 50 bids
Coming of age, it wasn't a lick I wasn't down to hit
I think I knew some Nigerians who used to counterfeit
Funny money, I think I had like 30 pounds of it
But this is only rap so tell the detectives downtown to quit
Gotta watch how I speak to the beat
Cuz I'm on the streets as we speak and I won't sleep til we eat
G code of silence, all the secrets we keep
Could make a movie about it but nah, we gon' keep it discrete
But I can rap about going from Virgin to Death Row
To Em recognizing one of the best flows on the West Coast
And even though I'm blessed, the vest still on my chest close
You got the life of this black star backwards like I was Def Mos
We really out here, nah, we really out chyeah
I'm in the zone nigga, I got a long way to go but I'd be lying if I said we wasn't on nigga
We on nigga, we on nigga, we on nigga, we on nigga
We on nigga, we on nigga, we on nigga, we on nigga
We on nigga, we on nigga, we on nigga, we on nigga
We on nigga, we on nigga, we on nigga, we on nigga
 
fox69

fox69

MODERATOR
Učlanjen(a)
06.07.2010
Poruka
29.830
"Sweet (Freestyle)"

"Sweet (Freestyle)"


[Intro:]
They talking to me like...
They talking to me, right?
They saying...

[Verse:]
Ye shall be blessed if thou worketh
So for fifty two weeks, I showed you my style perfect
Once in a while, one of the realest niggas shall surface
I'm C.O.B., plus I slaughtered all the house verses
It's foul circus, I vow to hold it down
It's my proud purpose
When the crowd purchase my sound, make yours sound malnourished
My mouth curses, please excuse the views
Only four letter word I never use is "lose"
Slaughterhouse headlines, yeah my crew's the news
Domestic violence and pet names, yeah we abusing booths
Better store the metaphors
Nigga, remember these similies
So when you say you're better off yelling — nigga, please
By any means necessary I became legendary on the Internet
And my next block is fucking your desktop
Like having sex with a secretary — you get it, Jack?
My intellect is a ball, brains given to me by teachers
Who predicted I'd be homeless bumming a cigarette — huh
You got me mixed like the letters when a dyslexic send a text
This is where my destiny interjects
In the 'jects where the gats bang
I'm fresh off B.E.T, but looking like I crack slang
What up, homie?
I think I'm living like the bosses deserve
Cause I'm the C.E.O. of my balls and my word
I'm burying beats in the cemetery dirt
Abusing the music like the producers should've sent it to me first
Tracks get shat on like toilets get sat on
Beats get spat on, Long Beach hat on
The top five, least I see myself inside
Cause who fucking with us — "us" being me, myself, and I?
Yeah, I'm sending rappers to the afterlife
You arrogant cowards — you a dick and a pussy, you a hermaphrodite
I'm something soft in this game, that's what they acting like
Nigga, I'm from the gutter where a G.E.D. is a bragging right
And some nigga named Marvin describes the appetite
A sea on a horse, a hundred watt bulb
That's my description when I grab a mic
Cause I'm high as a satellite
You haters get your chatter right
Young'un, I been here a while
I could've been a quitter a long time ago
Bitter a long time ago
But if success is a bitch, Crooked is gon find the ho
She can hide, I'm seek her like "Eeny-miny-mo"
Too many rap verbals around you dummies
I'm like them rubber bands on a hundred g
 
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