(feat. Silva Satin) Uh-oh nigga Bring it This is what happens when you bring the orchestra to the ghetto (live orchestra) Yea, is ya'll ready for this? Bein' the ghetto representative I am I'm guaranteed to slam When I drops that whoopty wop bam Somebody stop me from poppin I'll be god damned I'm at the chop shop gettin my drop top slammed I'm hotter than a skillet Grabbin' the mic to kill it Pillage your village With the illest lyrics I feel as though my skill is the realest asset That I possess It's Crooked I takin' over the west, yes I'm at the Benz dealership, cell phone and a glock Straight outta the ghetto lookin' like I dont belong on the lot But I'ma cop one, drop one Then I'ma smash through LA county Jump out that V6 with house shoes and brownies Flossin' on the one time Money burnin like a vampire in sunshine (burn) For those who dont know what I said Game I'm spillin' It's like the ceilin' Over your head [CHORUS:] It's the C-R double uh-O uh-O K-E-D Rockin' the whole sha-oh uh-oh It's the C-R double uh-O uh-O K-E-D Rockin the whole sha-oh uh-oh Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh The prolific writer inside of this pacific sider Won't let me write up Simple hate in spite of the money I might acquire I gotta be tighta Than any thug that recite a Yea my pockets mighta get wider But see I'm still a RIDA I slide up on hoes who be clubbin' 'Cause I don't see nothin wrong With shovin' a muffin up in your oven The lovin' after the huffin and the puffin You can choose, I ain't hand-cuffin Baby I'm reppin from the W-E-S Wait a minute... T-S I-D-E-S we get ready to B.S. P.S. we fresh for '99 you suckas No more hittin' licks and trippin' off these fuckers Now that ski-mask is strictly for Aspen I used to crack crews like statues in Agnes Now I got 'em slam dancin' like Marilyn Manson fans And throwin' a tantrum to the anthem [CHORUS] Known Crooked I comin' steadily, heavily In felony they tellin' me my pedigree It better be incredibly high fidelity See, let it be known hypothetically Step to me? Wrong theoretically Your head will be flown, flown I'm backstage in the zone It's 10:54 Six minutes Crooked I and you're on Uh-uh on first I do my s-s-song Then I take a lady h-h-home [CHORUS] ...And there you have it Thats what happens when the T to the I-L Connects with Mr. Crooked I You see us comin? Uh-oh
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Copy to Clipboard: (feat. Silva Satin) Uh-oh nigga Bring it This is what happens when you bring the orchestra to the ghetto (live orchestra) Yea, is ya'll ready for this? Bein' the ghetto representative I am I'm guaranteed to slam When I drops that whoopty wop bam Somebody stop me from poppin I'll be god damned I'm at the chop shop gettin my drop top slammed I'm hotter than a skillet Grabbin' the mic to kill it Pillage your village With the illest lyrics I feel as though my skill is the realest asset That I possess It's Crooked I takin' over the west, yes I'm at the Benz dealership, cell phone and a glock Straight outta the ghetto lookin' like I dont belong on the lot But I'ma cop one, drop one Then I'ma smash through LA county Jump out that V6 with house shoes and brownies Flossin' on the one time Money burnin like a vampire in sunshine (burn) For those who dont know what I said Game I'm spillin' It's like the ceilin' Over your head [CHORUS:] It's the C-R double uh-O uh-O K-E-D Rockin' the whole sha-oh uh-oh It's the C-R double uh-O uh-O K-E-D Rockin the whole sha-oh uh-oh Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh The prolific writer inside of this pacific sider Won't let me write up Simple hate in spite of the money I might acquire I gotta be tighta Than any thug that recite a Yea my pockets mighta get wider But see I'm still a RIDA I slide up on hoes who be clubbin' 'Cause I don't see nothin wrong With shovin' a muffin up in your oven The lovin' after the huffin and the puffin You can choose, I ain't hand-cuffin Baby I'm reppin from the W-E-S Wait a minute... T-S I-D-E-S we get ready to B.S. P.S. we fresh for '99 you suckas No more hittin' licks and trippin' off these fuckers Now that ski-mask is strictly for Aspen I used to crack crews like statues in Agnes Now I got 'em slam dancin' like Marilyn Manson fans And throwin' a tantrum to the anthem [CHORUS] Known Crooked I comin' steadily, heavily In felony they tellin' me my pedigree It better be incredibly high fidelity See, let it be known hypothetically Step to me? Wrong theoretically Your head will be flown, flown I'm backstage in the zone It's 10:54 Six minutes Crooked I and you're on Uh-uh on first I do my s-s-song Then I take a lady h-h-home [CHORUS] ...And there you have it Thats what happens when the T to the I-L Connects with Mr. Crooked I You see us comin? Uh-oh
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