Crooks Brown

[Verse 1 - Crooks] Nowadays niggas ain't crooks They crooked, they corny Rappers type wack on these beats And they hooks all be boring Losing the focus, flow, and the story (Ahh but it's hard, G!) -Hardly- My discard pile is large with the garbiage (I look around and see real niggas!) And I'm proud, I applaud 'em But then I wake up and I'm pissed Cause it was all a mirage Augh, to my god I question hard: What is going on? I'm 24 feeling like Cos' Telling these young black kids to pull they pants up Nigga getcha style back Nigga how you stylejack a nigga That just sylejacked a nigga? Shit is wild You a thrice wack nigga I'ma pray for you 'fore you could sell your soul You fucked around and lost the paper Now the machine you a slave to Meanwhile my threads is blade-proof And my foundation stable So you can rock the boat But you can never flip the table My flow is a hole in one like Bagger Vance But the fact that you bobbin' ya head Is a case in point that this magic is not a fable I'ma muhfuckin' legend (legend, legend...) Throw the echoes in to add reverence You the man if the man and his package just got the severance You pussy like open wounds and infections festerin' Dead it- With confidence, how I said it Unconscious shit like a sedative Deep in ya thoughts like a meditive- meditative My ohms is unrelated, that's power They say that no man should have it solo But I'm still facing weed dolo Blow tho, by the o-z and the smoke ring Like Frodo and a cholo Cause I'm lowdown with the cold lean Vice P-A, R-K-E-R Tell my girl I been bad again Tryna smack that ass red again No drawers in my bed again Pussy wet in my bed again God bless the two x's, man It's nothing in comparison Except to breathe the same air I'm in Ladyfriend say I'm arrogant Obvious shit's apparent, man I wouldn't box my shadow on the brightest day [Verse 2 - Brown] Now, for the record, I hold this pen limply Cause this bottle is half empty Told God I needed releases But he ain't answer, neither did Jesus So I cave in and I feed my weakness with spirits: Brown liquor for a down brown nigga Fuck shots, chug bottles The sorrows'll drown quicker Tomorrow you'll feel like shit But a bottle of Crown'll fix ya And Lord, I'm well aware that this saucin' ain't smart But God, do you notice my heart? Notice that it lies here in parts And I know this whiskey won't hold it But sobriety feels corrosive Ain't in no mood to be in control So I let this brandy hold me closely She keep me warm, she quells my worries She guides my pen, as it tells my stories Man, these ain't tear stains I spilled drank on my rhyme book That's amber brown on my rhyme book The liquor mixing with the ink and the flow fluid When I'm penning down this here brown liquor music Yeah, the liquor mixing with the ink and the flow fluid When I'm penning down this here brown liquor music Yeah, the liquor mixing with the ink and the flow fluid When I'm penning down this here BROWN