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crooked i - kill us all lyrics

circle of bosses, cash over b-tches
crip or blood, conducting organized business
controlling our block, cartel of ballers
cussin’ out broads, and we crossin’ over bridges
this is how we do it on the motherf-ckin’ eastside
sippin’ dat liquor, my n-gga higher than a g5
keepin’ them automatic weapons whenever we ride
hit ’em up with that c.o.b. like
crooked trippin’ on hennessy and patron
light ’em up, hit the enemy with the chrome
julius luciano, my n-gga kenny siegel
andrew dinero, demetrius capone
jc’ll give you three to the dome
sauce the boss, he puttin’ weed in the bong
like cheech did with chong and my n-gga big style
got the keys to the beach better creep when it’s on
just talked to trey d on the phone
he told me crooked get the keys to the brome(?)
it’s yo turn, take a seat on the throne
where you belong and hold it to the cheese, come home
feels good to be a gangsta mc
boss of the west n-gga, lord of the underground
everywhere i be my nina dip with me, better wear a vest cause the boy don’t f-ck around
brrrt stick ’em ha ha ha stick ’em
hit ’em in his face, send him in his sp-ce
brrrt stick ’em the triggas i’m finna pick’em til the pistols in my waist, put’em in they place
you don’t like it suck a motherf-ckin’ bozack
brat brat for peelin’ yo afro back
leave a n-gga kojak, freeze’em like a kodak
fit to getcha sh-t i’m quick to hitcha it’s the mista
c-r uh-oh uh-oh
you f-ck with me, you better knuh-oh uh-oh
six feet deep, is where ya guh-oh uh-oh
rest in peace, that’s fasho uh-oh
i’m putting bullets in that heater, i’m filling that millimeter
to the top of the clip, poppin’ the drop and i dip
i told ya, you would have to see the liters of the squeezers
for poppin that sh-t, your head i drop in a ditch
i’m apocalyptic, you got me twisted
when i’m out east ima c-ck the biscuits
when i’m in the midwest, we gon rock to this sh-t
in the dirty south ima knock a thick b-tch
bust in a room, it’s all c-ck and lipstick
sucked up every last drop of liquid
she thought that i would f-ck her, she was optimistic
maybe next time, now is not the business
cause a n-gga gotta go, back to the west
packin’ my bag, grabbin’ my mac and my vest
got a trunk full of weed, speedin’ on the freeway, no i don’t need no map on this quest
cause i know what i’m doin, put a cat to the test
gat that’ll clap, send’em after ya chest
two holes in your neck like i’m dracula yes
you askin’ for me n-gga, you ask for the best

- crooked i lyrics

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