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Storm Lyrics - Artist : Crooked I
Yo, last week was the calm, this is the storm
Shout out to everybody fuckin' with the Weeklys (Yeah) "Hold up Crooked, now what you up to? We don't trust you to give the classics just due" (Huh) Who flippin' classics better than us two? My attitude is just like Prodigy, nigga, fuck you I'm takin' music to the left side like a clef note Grab a NY classic and drag it to the west coast Put it on hydraulics, had that motherfucker hoppin' with a yappa in the passenger seat, signin' your death note I cock and spray got your body armor slayed Blood drippin' out your body armor like it's marmalade, karma pay Helicopter blade, helicopter fadel Lyrical gangbangin' like Dr. Dre in a Chronic way, except it's modern day If any opponent enter my zone, the serial killer is gettin' it on Niggas are pitiful, thinkin' they lyrical, how many syllables fit in a song? Just leave the spitter alone, sendin' you home, splittin' your dome Did it alone, but they think I did it with clones, just like it was three of me I got so much G in me like Eazy-E, but it ain't easy bein' me Shady with the nickel-plated nine just like BME Bad Meets Evil, the Desert Eagle is on creatine Bullets from the iron remind you, the flyin' guillotine Witnesses outside, they lie, too blind to see a thing Crooked I's alive, but I decided to be a king Battle rappers want me inside the arena ring They know I'm barred up, look at me, God I been in real bar fights, under my eye I'm scarred up I ain't hard up for no money, I fuck a snow bunny Give her the black cock, jackpot, that's some hard luck Like I'm dark skinned, Puerto Rican and Asian Word to Phife Dawg, I ain't like y'all, I just night crawl When the night fall, peep the invasion I remember when beefin' had a nigga sleepin' in Days Inn I'm a east side nigga, Long Beach nigga I'm a nigga with a attitude, I'm spittin' gasoline The track is gettin' fucked with no vaseline I'm a '91 Ice Cube, bow down Hyenas are on the prowl now, animal version of savage Insurgents with cannons and turbans, we gon' wild out They found out what my fighting style 'bout Kicked him from his front yard to his back, now that's a roundhouse Crooked's immortal, I travel through different portals, I got a different decorum, these whores wanna give him oral Want me to store 'em and horde 'em, force 'em against their morals While me and her nigga quarrel, so me and my dick ignore 'em But I might be at the 'cino if that chocho lookin' fat That mean lick her in the front, poke her in the back I'm so many in a slot, give me that honey and your pot Thinkin' it's funny, 'cause I got my car running in the lot When this over, it's a rap Back to the grind again, I got a coal mine, not the kind that you find miners in I'm from a different a cloth, you niggas soft, you niggas average I'm from a different fabric, I write with a designer pen When I'm listenin' to Mobb Deep, mind state is hungry and skinnier than Gandhi You won't need a stethoscope to listen to my heart beat I do it for the block, just put your ear to the concrete Speakin' of heart, picture me stoppin' the heart of every popular artist toppin' the charts You put a battle rap out? That's like sippin' yak during a black out Shot in the dark, I flood shit, hop in the Ark like Noah You wanted ridiculous lyrics, here it is I'm on some other shit, like parkin' my mothership Hop out, rockin' some khakis and house shoes in my pyramid I don't care if you listenin' 'cause I know your spirit is Still spittin' that real ass shit, ill ass shit My fans sayin', "Kill that shit!" They sayin', "Go Crooked, kill that shit!" They sayin', "Go Crooked, kill that shit!" You think I ain't, when I am? Yeah (Huh) I hear your rappers conversations when the mic's off Some Mass-hoes avoiding you was the right call Why would I talk around the same piece of the shit I would walk around on the side walk? I ain't like y'all No, I ain't like none of you niggas in the industry and every week I'm goin' on another killin' spree Fuck outta here with them Roseanne bars, you big pussies No wonder I'm so damn hard, I get busy Yeah, the Weeklys (Weeklys) Every Friday, you know what's poppin' It's that time again, you know I mean? (Time, time, time) Jewelry (Yeah, R-I-P Prodigy) You see me in traffic, bark at ya dog Ayo, Nate, let's get the fuck outta here, man |
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