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twista - crook county (remixed) lyrics
[psychodrama]
excuse me, believe me
there’s 6 people here to hurt you mother f-ckin feelings
with one female to break through the gl-ss ceiling
chicago, now let me holla at yall ’bout what i know ’bout my city
many women and children deserve this
f-ck the epidemy, n-body’s perfect
some do live my n-gg- (?) but the others go by the dirt sh-t
hurtin motherf-ckers slash closin’ they curtains curtains
slash, (?) to the b-tches, slash get a hold of ya shirt
but ya big -ss is fat, time to show some mother f-ckin n-gg-s who we is
b-tch we aint yo mother f-ckin kids
crook county, we ain’t gon’ take yo sh-t
(????)
[mayz]
n-gg-s in my mob is too suave
we ride hundred g cars, in it like the world is ours
don’t disrespect or get your chest split like cigars
in this county of crooks tryin’ to avoid jail bars
but it’s so hard to make cheese especially
if you ain’t got no ph.d. or connect on phat keys
see mobstability is for n-gg-s with nothing to lose
going psycho from this drama you know you paying dues
i get a buck in your side tryin’ to hussle for a ride
or hittin’ the block to find out one of your guys just died
so don’t come to the chi, it’s just riskin’ ya health
’cause k-town n-gg-s’ll bomb on that -ss like a stealth
[chorus]
in the county of crooks: g-ngb-ngers, killers and slangers
with judges be quick to hang us homies and strangers
no bluffin’, we bustin’
like a kamikaze, watch our bodies come up
war (?) then it’s on, now we gon’ strap up, what’s up
[repeat chorus]
[liffy stokes]
in the chi, it’s kill or be killed, hussle or die
you gotsta take the pie, momma didn’t lie
look in my eyes you see the realness
the nine makes you feel this
the pain that i’m going through ’til i’m sitting on millions
my minds on that paper, wishin’ upon a caper
i need to stack now, i’ll repent for my sins later
when i’m living greater, the mind state of a westside native
it’s sick in the head, dodgin’ feds everyday
see me load the ak, watch ’em run when we spray
get the f-ck up out my way and for pray that this pistol play
’cause when i’m heated i’m gunning ’til there’s nothing in sight
so cancel christmas m-th-f-cka, f-ck you and your life
[speedknot]
ah ah, i pop a holster, ’cause you won’t show up, and you gon’ shoulder up, and
you gon’ shoot up… sort ’em out
and even if i do, you comin don’t you get me twisted
crook city is mine, drama war we get ’em lifted
we surround the m-th-f-ckas, bl–dy bl–dy, don’t think it’s silent
violent m-th-f-ckas, and he cried out m-th-f-ckas
my (?) tussin it’s generation x
and robitussin plus i’m bustin’
wit two of them hundred guns
trustin’ n-body, interferring and actin funny
if you shout we take yo m-th-f-ckin money
inside yo ride, a.k.a. while (?) and psychodrama got all the f-ckin power in
this crook county
[chorus]
[newsense]
our county’s so crooked, psycho drama invented the style
then d-mn near everybody took it and p-ssed it around
now these m-th-f-ckas all look and see ’cause we puttin’ it down
and ain’t no sooner or later, the world gon’ realize they fakin’
then sn-tch they tapes of the shelves and break ’em, eliminate ’em
just as fast as creator’s way can create sh-t
now they all on some hate sh-t, just like a n-gg-
like ain’t n-body done a thing
but we runnin’ rings around these b-tches
the more tapes we make the more they all go broke, so f-ck ’em
if it ain’t no love then it ain’t none
if it is, then n-gg- then say something
’cause more of this beats gon’ stomp and keep on stompin’
and drama make that solemn promise
that shorty flyin’ all on n-gg-s’ business
[twista]
come look around crook county, look around, you found me
i must’ve been bad to the bone, get the mask and the chrome
this chi gotta die from a blast to the dome
n-gg-, not m-th-f-ckin’ ouija board
i receive my blessings from g’s and lord, nine-millies and source
but the art of war n-gg-, must’ve found breathin’ bored
tellin’ me to look into your eyes, all i see is a b-tch
tell krayzie in new orleans that he bit
talkin’ about you was lovin’ my sh-t
hit the bud and got sent on that sh-t odyssey mumblin’ r&b
you can keep the apology, you gon’ try to dishonor me
kill the hoes of the harmony
just when you thought it was safe
the bone n-gg-s ’bout to get slaughtered and raped
i can slow down and audit the tape
y’all bent and all y’all who thought it was fake
now watch (?) on the stage, beef and the rage
die on the first on the month, ’cause it’s than the blunt
why would you compete to be doomed, now you gon’ see eazy-e soon
feel the boom of the reprecussion, ’cause the reefer’s still rushin’
when i reach and start bustin’
i’m a bone crusher, crook county or nothin
ain’t no bluffin’
[chorus] (2x)
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