Crook - Watch 'em Go (feat. Bubba Chucc)
(Yeah, yeah)(Alligator soul with a heart made of steel)
(Mic check) (yeah, yeah)
(One, two, two, two...)
Watch, how a nobody, Piney Woods nigga go from contemplatin' suicide
Fast lane, do or die
Crooked smoke, can't see his eyes
Burnin' like Paul Walker died
Inside, outside, slide out, solo ride
Aye, let's be for real
How many real niggas in the building?
Who the fuck tryin' to stack their paper to the ceiling?
Hope that I, Crooked I, stay alive to see my kids turn at least 25
God willing
Y'all feel 'em?
I don't give a fuck if you don't
Wanna kill 'em?
Any nigga say yes, bet you won't
Get stomped out nigga, real quick
Any time, any day, give a fuck if it's Friday
You better bring more than a brick, nigga
Fuckin' with that IT nigga
Hot head, pot head
Means I stay lit nigga
Either I am God or I'm just God-like
Like, goddamn
Crook Damn, bitch, get it right
Gettin' ugly in this motherfucker
Bubba C, let's put some spark in these niggas
Yeah, yeah it's gettin' ugly
(Yeah yeah) Yeah yeah (Yeah yeah) Yeah yeah
Goddamn it's gettin' ugly
(Aye, who the fuck is...)
Crook damn, bitch I'm in this hoe
And once again, like I've said way too many motherfuckin' times before
Fuck a op, fuck a cop, bitch they my foe
One year in this bitch but I swear I'm on a roll
Make your hoe blow my dice
Heart way too cold, nigga froze like way way past fuckin' ice
I'm nothin' to play with 'cause I'm opposite of nice
Your bitch call me Jesus, nah, psych! Jesus Christ!
Now I'm stuck off in your bitches head nigga, call me lice
I fry these niggas like chicken, goddamn where's the rice?
I mean, they are mini men to me, rats no mice
50 cents is all I got on me, come on G's follow me, right to the balcony
Loose Screws
Loose Screws
Loose Screws
Loose Screws
Loose Screws
Loose Screws motherfucker, yeah the Don in this bitch
Don't even have to play, I done won in this bitch
You don't even have to count, I'm the one, don't forget
Shine like the sun
Mind like a gun
Loaded with more rounds of spit
Move pounds in bricks
Flow sound legit
Don't hound a bitch
I just drown in chips
Cruise through town with the top down with a crown and spliffs
Stand on the mound and pitch
You strike out 'cause you're counterfeit
My tolerance for toddler shit
A negative ten, don't let the negative in
Tryin' to win, get them presidents in
You need competitive win
Thinkin' you can win against competitive men
I get the lettuce and my beverage
Let it begin
Did I mention I'm from Texas?
G-shit embedded within
Steady climbin' up, usin' my limbs
Abusing my wins
Won't sink 'cause I swim
Shine bright when the light up here's dim
Above the rim like Bernie and Tupac
A mag with two glocks
Need a sack with two shots
Move back, my mood hot
Tool cocked, you'll drop
Faster than than a stretched out tube sock
So cool when you not
So cold when I'm hot
Throw stones like hopscotch
And watch how you flop
Strong arm like Doc Oc
All the way to the way to the tip top
You wanna switch spots?
Well, I got six shots
Written by:
Keith Crook-Johnson, Lee Hudson
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Lyrics powered by Lyric Find
