Crank It Up lyrics

by

B-Real


Young savage i gotta give it to em
Come on
Crank it up, crank it up, crank it up

Say hello to tha n*gga dat came from nuttin
Now i got boo koo whips boo koo chips boo koo clips im thuggin
Everywhere i go i get hoes my girl be buggin
And i f*ck wit nuttin but killas n*gga i ain't bluffin
The block hot like dat got damn oven my team got weight we steaks yall chicken McNuggets
Death right around tha corna comin for me it ain't nuttin. im out chea wit a machine somethin dats green somethin
But i be clean as a whistle dou come on playa get ya hoe she tryin to kiss me like we standin unda the missletoe
Bogaurdin dat pus*ywhole. man we had dat same b*tch at da six suckin di*k doin tootsie roll
Mane yall lil b*tches ain't sh*t couldn't make 10 Gs if one of deez n*ggas gave yall a brick
Yall fakin yall sh*t, imitatin my hits, im takin ova what a n*gga got to say about da sh*t

(Chorus)
Stop playin man i hope you lil n*ggas ready i heard da streets out hea yellin for webbie im tellin you n*gga stop playin
Yall n*gga betta get on ya sh*t or get you some bricks or get you a hit get serious cuz im sayin the savage work to hard for dis imma get to da top of
Tha list regaurdless pus*y b*tch hold up
Crank it up, crank it up, crank it up n*gga
Crank it up, crank it up, crank it up

I'll leave one of yall lil rap n*ggas stankin before this rap i was hangin
What da f*ck yall lil rap n*ggas thankin
While you was gettin ya grades up
I was gettin my change up a gangsta armed and dangerous
Dey tellin me commercial my flow but Bun B said no
Keep it gutta lil n*gga dont change it up
Yall pus*y n*ggas hang it up hollin trill yall ain't us
Boo gave me a light and a mike told me crank it up
Partna i got ya you just chill and watch me take over dat streets and have dees n*ggas freaks jockin
We been distributers so lets distrubt hits and profits
Im all real so ain't no way in hell dey can stop us
Leave my n*ggas da blocks and get dis legal money poppin
And ride and smoke doja dat potion da top droppin
Da heat unda the seat rims spinnin all chrome
TVs fliippin Cell phone and i ain't lyin dat n*gga on

(Chorus)
Im in da streets like dem yellow lines or a new SUV, Im in da hood all da time like a burned CD
SOME g NIKEs or some Jays or some fresh ass rees
Hard, soft, pills, weed, rain, snow, hail, sleet
And i ain't goin home until everythang gone it dont neva take long
I keep orders on my phone
Wit a sick click wit me wit a big clip wit me
Wit dat good white pretty big zip 650
Im da eat on da streets a beast on da beats
Da puzzle to the peice dey need to make dis industry complete
Ill run it so neat, so fresh, so clean
I can go on any street no vest wearin bling
Im trill young savage i do my thing straight no king no prince no queen
And imma leave it right dea
Wish a n*gga get crunk
I ain't shootin no curves no slurs straight pumps

(Chorus)

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