Crooked I - Burnin lyrics

[Produced by Marcus D] [Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"] Let's be honest, my dominant pursuit To ball is phenomenal like Ndamukong Suh I only fear tears from my son Gla** is half full, mindframe: rain is tears from the sun Now sit back, picture pitch black Get your 6-pack, your b**h spazzing get your dick back You planting seeds like a lion gardener I got money on you, but I ain't on your side I ain't your silent partner I give 'em the finger Cause n***as used to cut the off switch off when I called I done been through the ringer Yeah, my b**h asks ''is you gon' fight Everybody that got something bad to say about you?'' Yeah They shouldn't run their mouth I ain't the leader of the Slaughter If I was we would be called Drunkenhouse About this infinite sh**, mention the clique This clip will quickly get your attention Nickle and Vish [Verse 2: Kid Vishis] Marksmen with the pencil, my pen is like a pistol I wish you would I sick you intending bodily harm if you trying to get your issue I'll make your center fold, 7-6-2 full magazine Rifle his eye, call the sh** insight, get sniped Full clip, let it rip, kiss his a** good night Good bye cause you'll perish first We'll put you underneath the ground So far you won't be found 'til the meek inherit the Earth He ain't hardcore when I grab the .44 I make 'em flip, call the sh** street parkour get it? The mag'll spit and take all the air out you quick Which will remind you of opening up a bag of chips Youngin the truth when it come to the *spit* Loaded pistol flowing my guns drew Since you a f**ing fruit You can't even chew a banana without chipping a tooth Step in the booth and I'll chew you [Verse 3: Crooked I] It's so prophetic, that selfish sh** it be so patethic Cause when your whole crew ball it's all copastetic Now tell me what could be only realer if Oprah said it? ''I'm rich, b**h, from talking on shows'' - yo, forget it The flow kinetic, move crowds when I spit a bar My drive's impact is more than when you it a car Son keeps shining cause he is a star Kick dust like the Greek mythology's minotaur I'm in a rental car trying to avoid the struggle life With enough sh** in the trunk to do double life I hustle right, gotta zip up the duffle tight Like b**hes fronting with Jordan I'd rather cuff a mic But this industry is simply complex f** empty concepts, I'm thinking strictly ''I'm next'' Meatcleavers and bloody aprons is Slaughterhouse Wack rappers get a pa**, next time I'mma call you out, b**h