Boardwalk Empire

[Verse 1: Crooked I] Inside the mind of this Eastsider Our memories vivid enough for Scorsese to retire as screenwriter Drug lords and police wires, drug wars and cease fires And lying bitches who sleep by us The streets got they own set of rules Better move with that Beretta tool and be ready to dead a dude Cheddar rules everything around revenues The evil us men do when we in the Devil’s shoes Halos and heathens, angels and demons Our payroll, got us on Rodeo at Nieman’s But a-yo, lay low, ‘cause they know we schemin’ Quaalodes and yayo from Pedro we eatin’ Your pockets are rabbit ears, no Bugs Bunny That’s the reason a Crip’ll get Blood money I know some gangster disciples who got love for me Some vice-lords moved to Cali and buy guns from me And they’ll knock you, no matter where you’re at Your fitted can get it: the concrete’ll wear your hat (wear your hat) Where I’m at, wear a gat Keep the piece, even if you keep the peace like that Arab cat Arafat You’re married to the streets, this is where your marriage at Like dude that married McJack, son ya get smacked It’s bad on the streets, nigga beat it The young die and I won’t repeat it Look at all these tricks and johns trying to get what the whores offer In a pimp’s empire that bitch is a boardwalker They put blow on her stomach to snort off her Then go to church and offer the lord copper Pennies, later on he’s with his wife While she on her knees swallowing all his STDs See in this life of mine I gotta be blurry on the details of my life of crime Leave them 16 bars behind So I don’t do 16 behind bars of those kinds I’ma just recline and love what you fake rappers are spitting I kinda like when you niggas rap what I’m living I worship God just like a Catholic or Christian But sssut-sssut-C.O.B. that’s my religion I read the Quran and Islamic scriptures Now I’m ‘bout to get Psalms on both arms my niggas If I was born rich, I’d probably be Hip Hop’s Carlton Banks But I grew up hard in the paint, walk the yard with a shank Level 4 armor turn your cars into tanks Nah this ain’t marketing, thanks I ain’t trying to glorify my gangster life now Just trying to rap my way into a safer lifestyle Tired of homies dying ‘cause they don’t know enough Probably why I’m never in the fucking mood to sober up [Break: Crooked I] (over Hello beat by Dr.Dre) Real motherfucking talk man Rest in peace to all my niggas, I love y'all man Oh yeah, I ain't forgot motherfucker [Hook: Crooked I] Hello I started this weekly shit And this' the motherfucking thanks I get? (3x) [Break: Crooked I] Ssuutt Ssuutt C.O.B. nigga [Verse 2: Crooked I] 52 weeks, a whole year campaign Don't make me turn this one to a smear campaign Look how they do me, they page two me Until they retract that whack shit I don't wanna hear a damn thang [Outro: Crooked I] Hello, naw, I don't wanna hear nothing, you know I mean You say my dude Kanye is a trend setter, love him or hate him (hello) And that he is, hands down, he's a trend setter But that motherfucking trend right there I set that trend, love me or hate me, you know I mean Listen to this little quick story right here man True story, when I was young Some niggas tried to rob me at Gun Point right On the Eastside on Atlantic Avenue I was a young dude right They rolled up on me Nigga pulled out a 45, point it at my face And he told me to give him everything I had I told the nigga to fuck himself, true story Might not have been the smartest thing But it's what I've done, it's what I said So you think you gone rob me? (hello) And you ain't even got no motherfucking .45 But you gone rob me? (haha) You ain't robbing me man Niggas lost a million points with me Whoever put that shit up need to retract that shit Hello, I started this weekly shit That marketing plan was me Let's see who gonna go 52 weeks too #OKBYE