Kush Freestyle (Finale)

[Intro: Crooked I] Hip-hop weekly reloaded hehe… This is the last motherfuckin weekly C.O.B. All-Stars in the motherfuckin building… Too many motherfuckin Indians in running around in this weekly series shit… And Im the god damn chief… (HOLLA AT EM! Hahaha) Heheheh - I got Sauce da Boss in this motherfucka, Coniyac da X.O. and the Horseshoe GANG, man (Blaow…Buhp-buhp-buhp) The inner circle nigga… Lets take it to the hood… [Verse 1: Crooked I] This is for my paralyzed homie, he the realest nigga made Fron seat in the car, he catch any nigga fade He goin up top - BINK - leave you in a daze You can tell he an old G by the grays in his braids He tell me Crooked take us all to the T-O-P I tell em Ssut-Ssut C-O-B! [Verse 2: Horseshoe G.A.N.G.] [Julius Luciano] My drug is money, yeah, I get high off every scent So high off every green, by that I mean a monetary lift [Kenny Siegel] Im all about by giff but I’ll Brratt-pull the trigga Yall should stay out the wood like you flat-footed nigga [Demetrius Capone] Fast with the clicka nigga, tagtoe ya mother [Dice Dinero] My guns’ll wet pussies, wood handle, no rubbers [Kenny Siegel] My clan is so gutta [Julius Luciano] Me and my niggas walkin through the streets like the Beatles on that Abbey Road cover [Demetrius Capone] No father figure, look how the streets turned me I come from cement, not semen, the streets birthed me [Dice Dinero] I overpaid my dues, this game should reimburse me Me and my niggas not just hungry, we thirsty [Demetrius Capone] Mask and a full clip, back on that bullshit Price, toupee, cash on a fool’s wig [Dice Dinero] When the nights pitch black and the moon’s lit Might get ya wife kidnapped on that goon shit [Hook: Kenny Siegel + Julius Luciano] So why would you fuck wit us Young niggas plus gun dillas, young sinnas Fast living on the run til the one’s get us But we won't slip up til we touch figgas, killa, killa [Dice Dinero] Fuck the world - tatt it on my face! [Kenny Siegel] No escape from the animals, bananas going ape [Julius Luciano] Shots hot as Navada from the gat’ll splatta ya cantelope [Dice Dinero + Kenny Siegel] Blat the calicoe [Demetrius Capone] Ima California quake! [Crooked I] 9.0 on the Richter Scale, plus we killin any snitch you tell (Coniyac get em…) [Verse 3: Coniyac da X.O.] Im cold enuff to freeze llama Chill a sauna, god Ma-the-Mrs-Block-Odonna Forever more beast master, from competitor Above all forever soar, arsenal never flawed Black hawks down, on them niggas with them skirts on Through the scope my murks on (to get in em) On some eat money shit, change no vegan If beef eatin, Im collectin both for the keepin [Verse 4: Crooked I] Internet trippin cause this my last weekly Now you gotta catch me in Long Beach, Im eastly And my cousin Sauce from Watts, so believe me This Eric Wright shit, C-O-B easy [Verse 5: Sauce da Boss] Pound sign Smokethatdope, that’s what they call me Saucey, aka, Cob Marley Nickel plated pistol with that C-O-B thermal I do it major like Im promotin a fuckin colonel The game I lay down, kick stand couldn’t stand it Bitches see me and they panties get straight handed Sauce stay fly and I ain't planning on landin I stand out, cuz without a doubt Im outstanding [Verse 6: Crooked I] Psycho, think I need some Prozac yo Sauce tell this bitch something (smoke that do!)… Baby smoke that do, til choke dat throat Like a dick on your tonsils, no damn joke I remember being on the corner, hanging like a throwback jersey on a coat rack low We was so damn broke, til kush gave a broham hope Strong as weed, that’ll make an old man croak Now coke ain't the program no We slanging that green and I quote “Smoke that ‘do” Yeah, get that product and push We Obama kush, we used to call it Bush Break it down now... Im complex as Lex Luther, Kobe-esque Im the best shooter, the executer dude with fresh ruger My projects is Fred Kreuger, my nightmares press through the Music, I give the vision of death to ya Step to ya, the put the lead through ya Nothin can rescue ya from the possessed David Caress Junior Suicide, picture a beautiful funeral coffin with you inside Gucci tied, the mortician beautified the fact you was brutalized In the blink of a human eye, you was euthanized – BLAOW C.O.B. ain't playin over there Sound like Death Row when Dre was over there With the Makaveli poster, layin on the chair Yeah, real niggas standin on they square No I in team, but there’s a U in US Big difference between U and US – NIGGA [Outro: Crooked I] Im outta here, deuces in the air (Peace…Deuces!) Im outta here, deuces in the air (We outta nigga…we ain't fuckin with this no more!) Im outta here, deuces in the air (Too many swagger jackers! Hahaha) Im outta here, deuces in the air (Watch what we do next!) Yeah, we don’t follow trends nigga, we set trends XXL, Source Magazine, BET and MTV Yall niggas better give respect and salute C.O.B Yo…and to all our fans… #OKBYE