Crooked I Freestyle | LA Leakers Freestyle #008 lyrics

by

Lil Flip


[Verse]
Rhyme sick since the intro
Strapped on the radio, Glock hid in the trenchcoat
Y'all quick with the insults, I stick to the stencil
Find sick instrumentals, convicts in the pen know
Convicts in the pen know what? I been had bars though
b*tches on my bumper like models posing at car shows
You ain't hardco', you's a mark yo
Gassed like your flow coke, that's narco mixed with ARCO
Me? I'm giving b*tches Hank Aaron wood
Let their throat kill all my babies like planned parenthood
I've been a three-striker lifer livin' my life behind these
Bars on death row since I was over there with Suge
Still in my prime, no these are my best days
Still hungry and starving, ribs showing like x-rays
The way the tech sprays got me killin' leg days
Call it animal control the way you n*ggas catch strays
I'm in my bag, I'm back, bag back
Take a L, get the bag back, receive paper, that's fax
When I clap back, rrraat rrraat
Put your head on flat, now your snapback's a dad hat, n*gga
Gun bars, the real one is by the lumbar
I squeeze on rappers who subpar
n*ggas like to front hard, that's until I drop him in his front yard
Swerve off crazy like a Uber driver with one star
f*ck with Kxng Crook, that notion, it's crazy
Like the King's magnetic pull on the ocean, I'm wavy
I f*ck with Lazy Bone but ain't a bone in me lazy
I hustle man, put rappers in a morgue and go Tracy
Lot of n*ggas wanna rap, Crooked is the tightest, gotta touch sicker than a Midas
Got a trigger that'll sit a n*gga down quicker than the itis
Illest on the west spittin' with the nicest, drippin' with the ices, if I didn't grow up living in a crisis
So precise I'm a poltergeist on the open mics
Cold as ice, always winnin' like I'm rollin' loaded dice
I lynch competitors, hang 'em, that's if their rope is tight
Pussies get hung in public like a poster promotin' dykes
God, this the talent you gave to me
I grew up in the hood so real n*ggas relate to me
The best bar for bar so go tell your A&R
This ghostwriter's on fire like that Nicholas Cage movie
The lift off, rapper's faces getting lifted off
Jehovah witness in this business, you got no gift at all
Like free bands sippin' dirty, I'ma sip it all
That's 'cus my circle is the future like a crystal ball
C-O-B, this the cob, n*gga the vicious mob
We gon' turn it up as soon as the listeners twist the knob
I'm with the Leakers so the b*tches call
If she ain't talking di*k massage I'm responding later than Nick Minaj
Quarantine the whips I got a sick garage
I stand tall as Zeus in the midst of gods
I'm winnin' against the odds, if I ruled the world
I'd be a ghetto superstar like Mr. Pras mixed with Nas
You mumble rappers ain't forming no normal sentences
My only interest is to 4-4 'em with no more witnesses
This global menace is your total nemesis, you promo senselessness
I shine and enhance green, photosynthesis
God damn Crooked, you so ridiculous
That's what Elizabeth said when I said "Let me re-di*k you, Liz"
You fast forward rappers, yeah I get you kids
Just put this verse in your man purse like the b*tch you is
I'm forgettin' my rap so let me go off of the top of the dome
Drop you clones when I c*ck the shalom
That's the piece homie, rest in peace homie
Long Beach homie, the side is the East homie
That's on me
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