| California, you’re now rocking with the motherfucking best
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| Crooked I
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| You don’t like how I live, ok, bye
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| You don’t like getting money, ok, bye
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| You don’t like bad chicks, ok, bye
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| Now go that-a way, go that-a way
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| The world hating on your boy just yesterday
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| But like I said that was yesterday, cause hey
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| Eminem signed me to Shady, put me on Interscope
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| Then he gave me a rifle so I could put you in a scope
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| Gave me the stamp, put the check in the mail
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| Now chicks licking me like an envelope, yeah I’m in her throat
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| Crooked about to score, I see the red zone
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| All I need is beats by Dre, but not the headphones
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| Think I don’t live right, homie you dead wrong
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| Submarine sandwich: I’m just saying my bread long
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| Walk in the club with a gang of Eastsiders
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| Some rappers cool, I came to be live-er
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| You claim to be lighters
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| You say you spit flame, you a liar
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| Damn dawg, change your speech writer
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| I’m sideways on the hater keep it pushing
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| Just another Massengell pussy who need a douchin'
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| I’m looking for a round ass, I need a cushion
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| I love it when they tell me «Daddy I need a whooping»
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| You don’t like how I live, ok, bye
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| You don’t like getting money, ok, bye
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| You don’t like bad chicks, ok, bye
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| Now go that-a way, go that-a way
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| You don’t like how I do it, ok, bye
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| You don’t like that I’m hood, ok, bye
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| You don’t like that I’m me, ok, bye
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| Now go that-a way, go that-a way
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| I be keeping it real because I am real
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| Yeah some of y’all eating good, but it’s your last meal
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| You the king of the hill, but it’s an ant hill
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| I kick it over, you over, tell me how that feel
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| It’s not an arrogant thing, I got a stable of lyrics
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| And I’ll be pimping this pen like Sean Garrett and Dream
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| If these songs was hoes, I’d have a harem like an Arabic king
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| So beware of my team, yep
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| So many wolves you ain’t got nothing for me
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| Nowadays all that champagne popping be looking corny
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| We got the bitches on Hennessy getting horny
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| And they ain’t thinking of leaving 'til 6 in the morning
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| Yeah, they love fucking with us
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| Let them do what they do, you be cuffing them tough
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| See you Greyhound luggage when it comes to the sluts
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| Cause they’re gon' throw you under the bus, boy
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| As long as I hustle hard money gon' come with ease
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| And it’s child’s play, call it Chuck E. Cheese
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| Wanna do it like me, go sell a couple keys and a ton of weed
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| Then run the street with a hundred G’s
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| Goons that is, they coming out the woodwork
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| I would work, but that ain’t how the hood work
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| I’m trying to take over the game B.I.G. |
| and Pac style
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| Labels try to drop my old shit cause I’m hot now
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| But oh shit, you should stop now
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| Try to play me on some ho shit, I’ll shut your block down
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| Dirty magazines tell you what my clique about
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| Cause playboy, we some hustlers in a penthouse
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| Louis bag full of paper, let my chick count
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| She flyer than a double somersault dismount
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| And she swear to god, Crooked gonna dog her out
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| I got a bad rep, cause I’m from Slaughterhouse! |