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Gangsta
par
Kxng Crooked
Featuring(s) : OG Blacc Bugg
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Letra
Good evening ladies and gentlemen I'm glad you all could make it out tonight I'd like to start it out with a story, about a young kid names Crooked He grew up around a whole lotta' gangsta shit The kinda shit a nigga with amnesia and Alzheimers can't forget Let me paint the pic See around here, set-trippin' and drug dealin' is a religion in ancient scripts Bloods and Crips took the red and blue pill, yeah Matrix shit Freedom isn't real, freedom isn't real 'Cause people think being equal is evil Don't believe me ask Martin Luther King and Imottell That's why negros don't give a f*ck Schemin' with the still, creeping up Shooting with the intent to kill, even us Sometimes I wish we could just re-invent the wheel I'm looking at lil' Crooked right now I'm just praying he don't become a bum ass thug, punk ass scrub But I don't know though 'Cause I see him sitting on the porch right now with that nigga OG Black Bug See Black Bug was that plug for the crack drug The one that destroyed the community's black love, yeah that drug He leaned over to Skinny Kenny, said "Go get the straps cuz'" They in the back in a duffel bag with the ski mask and black gloves I'ma pull the lac up, it's time to ride, uh oh Lil' Crook' said, "What you 'bout to do?" Bug said, "Some shit you don't know 'bout" He said, "I know 'bout gangster shit" "Gangster shit? Watch your mouth Okay, go get your little ass in the car I show you some shit But you may never, never-yeva tell nobody what you saw" SKIT They call me OG Black Bug I'm built like an army tank All these niggas know what's crackin' cuz Five-star general, my army rank My Levi's, I just crease 'em up It's a good day to rob a bank Homies talkin' 'bout peacing up Kiss my dun, hell naw we ain't, mwah I got the streets on lock nigga Rubber bands around my drug money I pay police around the clock nigga A couple hoes to make some runs for me You know the beef don't stop nigga Who got a problem? All ears like Bugs Bunny f*ck around and get shot nigga My Tommy Gun'll leave the slums bloody I got felonies in five states These niggas treat me like I'm nine-eight I'm in my backyard bitch-pressing A beast laying under five plates I get my dope from the West side I keep my rag on the left side If lil' Crook keep hanging with me I gotta put him on the set, right? Gangsta
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