Twista - Crook County lyrics

Published

0 573 0

Twista - Crook County lyrics

[Yung Buk] Excuse me, good evening There's six people here to hurt your motherf**ing feelings With one female to break through the gla** ceiling Chicago, now let me holla at y'all Bout what I know bout my city's many women and children These servants, but the epitomy of nobody's perfect Some do live good but the others go by the dirt sh** Burn motherf**ers, slash, closin they curtains, slash Walk into the b**hes, slash, and take a hold of your shirt Which b**h a** is that, time to show some motherf**ing n***as who we is b**h we ain't your motherf**ing kids Cos tell 'em, we ain't gon' take your sh** These are words from the worstest in hearses And dirt be all you f**in facin b**h [Mayz] n***as in my mob is too suave We ride hundred G cars, in it like the world is ours Don't disrespect or get your chest split like cigars In this county of crooks tryna avoid jail bars But it's so hard to make cheese especially If you ain't got no Ph.D. or connect on phat keys See mobstability is for n***as with nothing to lose Going psycho from this drama you go through paying dues Like gettin bucked in your side tryna hussle for a ride Or hittin' the block to find out one of your guys just died So don't come to the Chi, it's just riskin ya health Cause K-Town n***as'll bomb on that a** like a stealth [Chorus x2] In the county of crooks, g**ners, k**ers and slangers Where judges be quick to hang us homies and strangers No bluffin', we bustin'Like a kamikaze, watch our bodies come up War chrome then it's on, now we gon' strap up, what's up [Liffy Stokes] In the Chi, it's k** or be k**ed, hussle or die You gotsta take the pie, momma didn't lie Look in my eyes you see the realness The nine makes you feel this Pain that I'm going through 'til I'm sitting on millions My minds on that paper, wishin' upon a caper I need to stack now, I repent for my sins later When I'm living greater, the mind state of a Westside native It's sick in the head, dodgin' Feds everyday See me load the AK, watch 'em run when we spray Get the f** up out my way and for pray that this pistol play Cause when I'm heated I'm gunning 'til there's nothing in sight So cancel Christmas muthaf**a, f** you and your life [Sidekick] I...I...I pop a holster cos you gon' show blood You gon' show love or you gon' show blood Short of my b**h Even if I do come at you don't get me twisted Quick City is mine, Drama Ward we get 'em lifted We some rowdy motherf**ers Bloody, bloody don't think we silent, violent motherf**ers Here to tie down motherf**ers My baby pump a tussle in Generation X And roll with tussle plus I'm bustin with two of them hundred guns Charge em up in their body Intefere 'n you actin funny If you shout we take your motherf**in money It's Side to ride aka wild thousands Psycho Drama got all the f**ing power in this Crook County [Repeat Chorus] [Newsense] Our county's so crooked, Psycho Drama invented the style Then damn near everybody took it and pa**ed it around Now these muthaf**as all lookin sick cause we puttin' it down And ain't no sooner or later, the world gon' realize they fakin' Then snatch they tapes of the shelves and break 'em, eliminate 'em Just as fast as Creator's Way can create sh** Now they all on some hatin sh**, just like a n***a Like ain't nobody done a thing But we runnin rings around these b**hes The more tapes we make the more they all go broke, so f** 'em If it ain't no love then it ain't none If it is, then n***a then say something Cause more of this beats gon' stomp and keep on stompin' And Drama make that solemn promise That shorty flyin' all on n***as' business [Twista] Come look around Crook County, look around, you found me I must've been bad to the bone, get the mask and the chrome This Chi gotta die from a blast to the dome n***a, muthaf** a Ouija board I receive my blessings from G's and Lord, nine-millies and swords But the art of war n***a, must've found breathin' bored Tellin' me to look into your eyes, all I see is a b**h Saw Krayzie in New Orleans on my dick Talkin' about you was lovin' my sh** Hit the bud and got sick On that sh** odyssey mumblin' r&b You can keep the apology, you gon' try to dishonor me k** the Hoes of the Harmony Just when you thought it was safe The Bone n***as 'bout to get slaughtered and raped I can slow down and audit the tape Y'all bent and all y'all who thought it was fake Now watch these B's on the stage, beef and the rage Die on the first on the month, cause it's worse than the blunt Why would you compete to be doomed, now you gon' see Eazy-E soon Feel the boom of the reprecussion, cause the reefer's still rushin' When I reach and start bustin'I'm a Bone Crusher, crook county or nothin Ain't no bluffin' [Chorus] (2x)

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.