lirik lagu kxng crooked - gangsta
good evening ladies and gentlemen
i’m glad you all could make it out tonight
i’d like to start it out with a story, about a young kid names crooked
he grew up around a whole lotta’ gangsta sh-t
the kinda sh-t a n-gga with amnesia and alzheimers can’t forget
let me paint the pic
see around here, set-trippin’ and drug dealin’ is a religion in ancient scripts
bloods and crips took the red and blue pill, yeah
matrix sh-t
freedom isn’t real, freedom isn’t real
’cause people think being equal is evil
don’t believe me ask martin luther king and imottell
that’s why negros don’t give a f-ck
schemin’ with the still, creeping up
shooting with the intent to k!ll, even us
sometimes i wish we could just re-invent the wheel
i’m looking at lil’ crooked right now
i’m just praying he don’t become a bum -ss thug, punk -ss scrub
but i don’t know though
’cause i see him sitting on the porch right now with that n-gga og black bug
see black bug was that plug for the crack drug
the one that destroyed the community’s black love, yeah that drug
he leaned over to skinny kenny, said “go get the straps cuz'”
they in the back in a duffel bag with the ski mask and black gloves
i’ma pull the lac up, it’s time to ride, uh oh
lil’ crook’ said, “what you ’bout to do?”
bug said, “some sh-t you don’t know ’bout”
he said, “i know ’bout gangster sh-t”
“gangster sh-t? watch your mouth
okay, go get your little -ss in the car
i show you some sh-t
but you may never, never-yeva tell n0body what you saw”
skit
they call me og black bug
i’m built like an army tank
all these n-ggas know what’s crackin’ cuz
five-star general, my army rank
my levi’s, i just crease ’em up
it’s a good day to rob a bank
homies talkin’ ’bout peacing up
kiss my dun, h-ll naw we ain’t, mwah
i got the streets on lock n-gga
rubber bands around my drug money
i pay police around the clock n-gga
a couple hoes to make some runs for me
you know the beef don’t stop n-gga
who got a problem? all ears like bugs bunny
f-ck around and get shot n-gga
my tommy gun’ll leave the slums bl–dy
i got felonies in five states
these n-ggas treat me like i’m nine-eight
i’m in my backyard b-tch-pressing
a beast laying under five plates
i get my dope from the west side
i keep my rag on the left side
if lil’ crook keep hanging with me
i gotta put him on the set, right?
gangsta
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