QDIII - IBWin' Wit My CREWin' lyrics

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QDIII - IBWin' Wit My CREWin' lyrics

IBWC's in the house, fool And Yo-Yo about to rock this muthaf**a And I'm sendin this out to all my homies in the west coast Yo-Yo, kick that! (Come on) IBWin wit my CREWin (Come on) (Get down, get down, get down) [ VERSE 1 ] Back once again, rushin yo a** like a green light Yo-Yo's back and puttin up another mean fight Booty still packin, braids takin care of kickin terror True to the game, fakin never You know I'm from the Lench Mob, so I'll scrub if I have to Beatin fools down, stompin em in the ground See, hoes be gettin mad, tryin to step to the Yo-Yo Because they man be at em blowin kisses at my photo See, I'll hang yo a** by a tree Gettin' dap while your neck snap and flee Scot free, a psycho's on the loose, and if you haven't seen me It's cause I wreck sh** and disappear like a genie A beanie is what the girlies wear when we're mobbin IBWin, true f**in' crewin, you threw in the towel When I started walkin the road to styles Leavin dead bodies for miles and miles Yeah, come on (Come on) IBWin wit my CREWin (Come on) (Get down, get down, get down) [ VERSE 2 ] Creepin like a tagger, got my stripes and I'm golden Pop my JVC in my deck, and now I'm rollin Oh and, if you didn't know that I be blowin Dope funk tracks back to back, and it's so fat Dealin with a gangster man who's got a gangster plan For those who don't understand My motto's just like the lotto's: Gotta say, "f** it," and make my ducats Stayin on the D-L, so when you see me later, alligator I'll be out a while, crocodiles Gettin real funky on my sh** for nine-trey From the west to the east with my homies fade away I can rock you harder than the ave' So don't be mad if I smash this beat through your monkey a** I'm just IBWin with my crew and Doin what we doin, this is how we do it Come on (Come on) IBWin wit my CREWin (Come on) (Get down, get down, get down) [ VERSE 3 ] I cop a little beat for the Yo to come off on Anyway you ride it, you still can get your flow on So listen while I g-o and break some n***as' ego Yo-Yo be rippin sh**, but you don't hear me though It's one of those Saturdays, and we're hangin Rollin 7 deep in my homie's station wagon Lookin all faded, eyes redder than a apple Stop at 7-11 cause Chenee want a Snapple Eyes all redded from the Thai, grab some Vi for the eye Huh, cause everybody's high Dressed in our best K-Swiss and Guess, oh yes With the munchies, but ain't nobody got no munchie money Just headed to the mall, so we can clown like we're doin it They wanna know, tell em we're IBWin Just chillin, chillin and we're realin' And if you didn't know, we got that feelin Ugh! (Come on) IBWin wit my CREWin (Come on) IBWin wit my CREWin

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