Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: Crooked I] They say they sick of hearing Crooked I week after week Yet still they listen to every word that I speak They know that Crooked is terminally ill with the speech Mayweather with the defense, Holyfield with the reach Muhammad with the speed, I'm Lennox with the jab A young Tyson with power, a menace and a half And I'm Kobe with the dribble when I scribble in the pad My lyricism's infamous, my sentences are mad Please don't compare us, our differences are sad A Benz isn't a Jag, I'm a Maybach, don't play that I'm vicious with the mag, pistols sizzle in your ass I'm a gravedigger like my nigga RZA in the past Since word is born I vasectomize tongues I got niggas doing cardio when I exercise guns If you petrified, run, better jet when I come I only leave the evidence detectives might shun Like what? Like none, I vandalize regions But I keep my hands clean, sanitized even It's rap or die season The best rappers ain't alive so analyze me then Cannon size heaters in the dash Nine millimeters in the stash Chuck Taylor sneakers in the Maz' 'Bout to put your peoples in the past See you snakes creeping in my grass I greet 'em with a blast, I leave 'em in the trash I mix 'em up, drink 'em in a glass Meat cleaver in my grasp swinging at your ass My childhood was fucked up that's why I hope my future ain't You ever starve 'til you start to hallucinate Dreaming about last week's food you ate, skinny losing weight So hungry you can't hold your uzi straight So please hand over your lucci cake Cause this dude would truly hate To chop you up and put you on a sushi plate Excruciating pain I need therapy, my mind's traumatized For 99% of my rhymes I apologize I graduated from the school of lyrical homicide Got my Rakim degree, I'm him modernized In the belly of Leviathan I'm where the bottom lies Where the rest of the ghetto was swallowed then colonized Only thought in my mind on repeat is that I'm on the rise Put Prada shade over mama's eyes, holler Cause the flow is hotter than Vegas, I'm rocking stages Like I'm Jonathan Davis, hip hop is hollering Dominic save us A prominent prophet, how could the father forsake us From the home of mobsters and gangsters, Dodgers and Lakers I'm a certified G with the flow Murdering microphones 35 weeks in a row Killing them softly all for the love Never get a dime, this is all free Then again the light bill to keep the studio running is high as a bitch So this shit cost me
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