Bloodin’ Crippin’ lyrics
by Waka Flocka Flame
THAT n*ggA, LEX LUGER!
[Hook] (2x)
Is you blooding, is you cripping?
Is you thugging or you b*tching? (Is you b*tching!?)
I need to know, n*gga, cause I ain't got time for slouches
In the house of ounces, in the house of sacks
Everybody trained to go, b*tch you like [?]
[Verse]
The way I f*ck these hoes... (Flocka!)
It should be illegal
Riding in a regal on some skinny ass tires
T-Town Cutlass sitting on Crips
Navy blue painted for my Metsville Crips
Yellow bird, red bird, green bird, blinding
Bright ass diamonds, traffic lights shining
12 months grinding, hip-hop rhyming
Crack, dope selling, and these f*ck n*ggas telling
2, 3 punches, now his right eye swelling
Whole crowd yelling, purp, I'm selling
Looking in the mirror and I see a real young n*gga
Waka Flocka Flame, y'all can call me little Gucci, n*gga
[Hook] (2x)
Is you blooding, is you cripping?
Is you thugging or you b*tching? (Is you b*tching!?)
I need to know, n*gga, cause I ain't got time for slouches
In the house of ounces, in the house of sacks
Everybody trained to go, b*tch you like [?]