The C-R-U-D-D-Y, the C-L-I-C-K
It's texture pure terror a street professor aggressor scale and measure
clever compressor stretching salary stacks be running blocks as a
factory
structure capture the raw product I manufacture, fracture critic chatter
nigga catcher as I blast a cop matter capsule shatter scatter midnight
disasters clips I rather gather then flip for what I'm after now and
forever money makes things better at a regular gets me jewelry, bitches,
bankcards, cars and competitors proposed threats wreck necks and puff ya
puzzled see trouble muzzles when I hang and hustle.

Booda Bop, Boom, Bam, Bink, Bick Bow Bookow, Ratatat, Klack Klick, Klick
Kow, Klick Kow put brains with muscle. Hear a crew of guys utilize they
skills. Bang out hang out slang out work and hustle. Flip techniques
over
boogie bangin' beats. A street fleet with Moet, dank and freaks in
twenty separate suite I'm servin' dope lyrics holding weight, just like
Chris Webber a warrior from Golden State, and I conjure up raps I bet
you
don't know any they be hitting like that brick that smacked Reginald
Denny.
Collects cash n' checks on a jet to meet the next client as I arrive at
L.A.X.

I'm up early so I catch my phlegm spit step then stash the stem 10 clips
in ten shit bottles are sectioned in wit a clip thick a block stocked
wit
protection see X again tools ta fry and unified like Mexicans but if
shit
is slow in comin' a fiend that's one thing thats when you see twenty
niggas running to one fiend.
Yo black tops I got that yellow high for hours buy from me now or next
time I swear I'll sell you flour I got dreams of getting a 98 or a Caddy
living fatty plus I got a little man calling me daddy my lady and little
man they need me and I need 'em I gotta see em and please 'em but first
of
all clothe