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crooked i - cali luv iii lyrics

[verse one]
(california love!)
you know it’s part three when i, bang for the c-a-l-i-
f-o-r-n-i-a, my n-gga then i
come through with henny and rum and get some
from these ?-wearin’ chicks who live in the city i’m from
let’s, all plough when the millenium’s young
yes, we draw down when our enemies come
i guess, i’m west coast like no other before
can’t believe they let this thug in the door
throw up them w’s boi!
live to the fullest and get dough, sit low in the excursion, pullin’ the six-fo’
let’s roll through the compton streets, stoppin’ cars in the bag cause i prop for peace, you right
you just saw me on the hundred and third, with my cousin big saucey, elijah and the punisher, word!
ya heard? burners in the stash spot, what? i’m subbin’ computer love with my rag top tucked

[hook]
you know we got the baddest hoes
you know we roll bentleys and low-lows
so give us love when we step in yo’ hood
cause it’s some california n-ggas in yo’ neck of the woods
you know we stack all the dough
you know we from the notorious row, uh
so give us love when we step in yo’ hood
cause it’s some california n-ggas in yo’ neck of the woods

[verse two]
you know n-ggas in cali get they grip, just ask the messay[?]
they know crooked spit the caliente sh-t
haters mad cause in the alley with they chick
they ain’t gotta look as good as halle if they thick
gucci boots with the purse to match, fat burger got it workin’
with the perfect backs, uh!
from vallejo to diego, i lays low, i show face
cause there’s no place that i can’t go
i get down dirty, i’m in oaktown clownin’
in a pimped out derby, with a tim brown jersey
a six round thirty-eight in the ice bergs
just in case i can’t settle the beef with the right words
i squeeze on ya, leave ya in a coma, now we hittin’ corners in pomona
with big cut sippin’ on a long neck corona, third switch and lift the daytona
that’s california!
keep our guns loaded, cursin’ like sailors, rockin’ chuck taylors
with the tongues folded, even
our hoes all know how to fight, and lil’ gangstas ride by ya on them lowrider bikes
i love cali!

[verse three]
i’m keepin’ both pockets heavy with dollars
roll through in every colour chevy impala
spot somethin’ s-xy and holla! lil’ mama lookin’ deadly in prada
but if she got too many dollars you can expect me to rob her!
nah, but we go hard in these streets, though
pardon me sweetheart, be part of the freakshow, yo
i’m ghetto’d out and can’t help it
got california love to spread and i ain’t selfish
maybe it’s a crook thang that got me creepin’ through the east
side of long beach with peek-a-boo and wolf wayne
game droppin’ my pockets’ll get full, i’m rockin’ a tank top
i’m walkin’ a pitbull, keepin’ my bacardi close
this mad man maniac and [?] we got the barbie coast[?]
big timin’, ever since i signed with big simon
it’s big diamonds, time for y’all to quit rhymin’

- crooked i lyrics

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