Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song One More Time, artist - Crooked I.
Date of issue: 25.11.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
One More Time |
Ayyiyo, hardtop convertible — it’s him again |
When the car stop it murder you — them killer rims |
Your heart stop, the seath’s half suede and part croc |
Paint job far from stock, this is dark chop |
Hit the block with the system knockin' on some extra loud ish |
You tell me it’s child ish |
But I’m, on my Long Beach, Southern Cal' ish |
And my, fuck a brrrritch, young Chris Brown ish |
Hahaha. |
I’m only playin' wit’chu |
My homegirls gangbang bitch, they’ll hit you |
Puttin' hands on a woman ain’t a player’s issue |
I’d rather treat your emotions like they was made of tissue |
(What that supposed to mean?) Guess I’m an asswipe |
(Tch, fuck you nigga!) Yeah, that’s right |
Fuck me like your friend did last night |
Now go on and call her so y’all can have that catfight |
Bitches know niggas ain’t shit |
We cheat and lie, act like it ain’t shit |
So when we die, cremate us then put us in your douce |
So we can run through that puss — one mo' time |
Bitches know niggas ain’t shit |
We cheat and lie, act like it ain’t shit |
So when we die, cremate us then put us in your douce |
So we can run through that puss — one mo' time |
Yeah, niggas ain’t shit (nope) |
Twenty kids in your past made with the same dick |
Now it’s a wrap on your present like your dick is Saint Nick |
Now she talkin' all loud in court |
Like getting buckwild in sport, hollerin' 'bout child support |
And you done paid up for e’ry kid |
She spent yo' money on other niggas and getting her hair did |
Putting Mac makeup all on her pretty face |
Just to get the money shot later from Mr. Weapon Waist |
Call Reverend Mase, tell him that I need prayer |
And ask him is it a better place for players |
I’m sorry, I dig a ditch for you critics |
A black Ferrari to getting rich, I’m commited |
The second coming of Ice Cube |
Nigga stitched on my fitted Niggas ain’t shit, I admit it |
Bitches know niggas ain’t shit |
We cheat and lie, act like it ain’t shit |
So when we die, cremate us then put us in your douce |
So we can run through that puss — one mo' time |
Yeah, one mo' time |
Yeah yeah, just one mo' time (just one mo' time) |
Baby one mo' time |
Put your muh’fucking finger in the air and say one mo' time |
I got you haters mind puzzled |
How this ghetto as nigga thinking like Russel |
Going independent was supposed to sink my boat |
I was already aflout with my side hustle |
Ice age ain’t over for this Californian |
But the recession hit yours like global warming |
Neck look ice-less |
Damnit man, your bare-ass wrist look timeless, as this rhyme is |
It’s all about choking chicks with my dick |
Then get behind her like I’m giving her the Heimlich |
Bend that tail over, ya dig? |
I’m signing off, male chauvinist Pig-(face!) |