Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crest Creepers, artist - Dubee. Date of issue: 17.11.2014
Song language: English
Crest Creepers |
| I be that cold crest creeper, stompin’and rompin' |
| Puttin’the crest on the map, like NWA did Compton |
| Got my finger on the trigger, dont make me pull it and bail |
| Plus I’m ski masked down, all you see is bullets and shells |
| From that HK, they say Dre is slightly crazy |
| But aint nothin’but the way them crestside streets raised me |
| I’m shady, all my game make you trust me Players love me, haters dodge and duck me They hidin’while I’m ridin, Crestsidin’through the fog |
| I’m a double R hog, doin’dirt with my dogs |
| Crest gorilla makin’scrilla, boy I gets G’s |
| Put more holes in a nigga than they put in Swiss cheese |
| Now check credential, these niggas be killa status |
| Pack a tech, tote a tommy, you know I brandish |
| Some dont understand, niggas I hog about my scrillions |
| Pill young knuckle heads, stoppin by my building |
| Built in the game, foundated since '74 |
| Its that Mark Ave nigga… You know |
| Get your millimeter, these niggas round here be heated |
| And if you need it, eat it up when I feed it So giddy up, get game, if you aint knowin’that it’ll happen |
| Thats that real shit… fuck all that rappin' |
| So go on and ask your folks |
| 'Cause these crest niggas aint no joke |
| Pussy aint the prize so you can miss me with that bullshit |
| Young hog through the hallways, strapped down with them full clips |
| Catch 'em on surveilance, a murder thats how I read it So potna if you saw it, play like you aint seen it |
| I’m the cleanest in this murder shit, cuddie who you with? |
| Represent that Sawyer all star killa click |
| Wave both hands and watch me yoked in the stands |
| This them creepers coward, so could you understand |
| Faulty information keep on gettin’sold to the FBI |
| So what you gon’do? |
| big baller dont cry |
| Everybody in this world cant get by We love to be high, so pop yo collar, let it go |
| 'Cause this crest creep shit is gettin’sold like blow |
| Look it, at who just crept up out the bushes |
| Without warning, swarming in black garments |
| Performing like an OG, crest vet, oh yes its Naked |
| But I’m forced to wear clothes, because its cold on the North Pole |
| This 4−4 got the enemy behind the line |
| 'Cause once they cross it, aww shit, another violent crime |
| Has been committed in the itty bitty city called Vallejo |
| All hell breaks loose when you fuck with lou |
| Me and my people 'cause we deep in this shit |
| Brought heat to this shit, just in case a hater wanna trip |
| Off the fact that the country club is in the building |
| Hit the ceiling with your 3 C’s if ya feeling |
| Where I’m coming from, now who in the fuck you running from |
| Them cuddie top dogs are on there way and they coming dumb |
| Hoes they, hoes they love me |
| 'Cause I’m the U-N-D-A-D-O double G Crestsidin', hittin’switches, let me drop you a line |
| If you ridin’then you bitches better be on time |
| You fucking with my pleasures now |
| In L.A., fuck Da Unda Dogg wont let you down |
| So let me bust a nut, we creepin', so hurry up get yo ass in this telly |
| No time for speakin', remove your clothes and lay on your belly |
| I got that Watts shit, mixed with that Crestside twist |
| Block shit, bitches love to fuck with this |
| Reek Daddy the muthafuckin’instigator |
| Mr. get this shit started right now, fuck later |
| From the Crest to the muthafuckin’Midwest, Reckless |
| 15 cuddies on a dead nigga chest |
| Bitch have you ever rolled with a rider? |
| Bouncin’in the low hollerin’out Crestsider! |
| Ripped, dont even trip, its gon’be some more shit |
| I got the big clip, filled up with hollow tips |
| Cold Crest creeper and I always keep my cannon on me Dont forget the dope 'cause I’m a lay you where you standin’homie |
| Hoe if you know me, you know what I’m about |
| Act like a snake bit my dick and suck the poison out |
| Cuddie I go way back, sippin’heem straight like chris mack |
| In the 'lac, yac up, aliens better back up Playa like OG bust |
| See there aint nothing like that ball hog soup, for country club hog nuts |
| Smash fools like Barlow, serve big game like tip toe |
| Might catch me mackin’in Chicago |
| Smokin’on some ??? |
| Pimp shit, talkin’smooth, armani man, I’m out to conquer the globe |
| Might start off in Vegas, hookers bringin’more of those papers |
| Boss mackin’got me scuffin’my gators |
| Call me Luke Skywalker, the alien stalker |
| Cuddie, fuck ya friends, ya folks, even ya potna |
| Lil’soldier got a chopper plus he gone off one |
| And OG’s think the penitentiary is fun |
| So he’s bread to kill, and aint scared to die |
| Nuclear age titan up out the Crest side |