Crooked I Presents - - C.O.B. Cypher 2012 | Текст песни

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• Crooked I Presents
• - C.O.B. Cypher 2012

[Verse 1 : HORSESHOE G.A.N.G]
Women and gentlemen get to tremblin' the minute the villain is feelin' adrenaline
Cos then I'm peelin' your motherfuckin' melon in till there's no more fucking ceiling
I feel like breaking and entering in prison and killing fuckin' Zimmerman
The minute that the motherfucker sentence him
Dismember your limb, uppercut your chin and then
Disfigure your twin, I'm sending 'em synonyms
I'm injuring niggas penicillin ain't healing em?
Do the running man when I got the gun in hand
Trigger finger itching then I'mma switch it to the other hand
I'm sick as a nigga dicking his own mother Samantha
Cos I'm a motherfucker and the son of Sam
Goddamn, just another ambition
As a writer and I'm the one on that mission
When we enter the building with a million rugged ass henchmen
That's a ten hundred grand entrance
Back with this other transition, vicious
Smacking your mother man listen
When I mutate then it's too late then I chew faces
Rap with this gun in hand viscus
When I send a few strays bullets graze anatomy
Give my gun a raise like you're gonna change the salary
I be at your door nigga I'm a natural born killer
You can call me Mickey I'mma 38 it's Mallory
My brain is sicker than Casey Anthony
You're not really understanding how deranged I got to be
My crazy family be telling telepathically
Handing me the strategy to erase and enslave humanity
This is the art of war I'mma paint calamity
Hate and tragedy, pain and agony
Then I'mma frame the painting, hang it in Satan's gallery
But I'm not evil, holy like I came from Galilee
Straight insanity give me the fucking steel
Kenny is fucking ill, I
Can't imagine me giving a fuck for real
Willing to bust your grill, blow your dome off your gate, anatomy
Now that motherfucker can't imagine me
Don't tell me to fucking chill
Creeping a thousand riders from the West side
Star under my pillow call it my Bedstar
If you gotta rebuttal to utter say that shit
Just remember like your music we don't play that shit

H to the O, R-S-E-S-H to the O
E gang we came straight for your ho
We got paper to blow
We in it to win it the minute we came in the door
Fuck you, pay me, pay us the doe
Then its fuck you, pay me, pay us some more
All you haters should pay up, and pay what you owe
Throw the eight up, get sprayed up, and laid up with holes
I keep it straight up for sho', y'all just straight up for show
Y'all pussy, period, change up your flow
Like a menstrual cycle, straight up ya know
Im an instrumental psycho
Reminiscent of a nigga named Michael
Im a thriller, I wake up with flows
And I never make up with hoes
And I put the mack to your face, that’s how I make up with hoes
Hoes, yea I'm laid up with those
And everyone one of my hoes are A1, ya know
You know I got a centerfold, getting rid of clothes
Nothin on but them Kenneth Coles
Since day one I go, hard
Wait a minute let me switch gears
When I'm stiff as a board, I give them dick till they sore
I cut em like im gripping a sword and a big spear
I should win an award for flyest nigga this year
Im the shit cheers, my swag is celebrated
When I step up in this bitch every chick cheer
Chit-Chea, girl sit here, lift brazier
Lemme skeet on your face, let's just smear
When I'm fuckin a woman, I'm up in her stomach
My dick is in belly, I'm sincere
Y'all not fly, you pricks queer
You couldn’t get a Pretty Woman if you were dressed in rich gear
Your bitch rear, make my snake soft
She never quarreled my mind, you a mime can't talk
Your bitch plain, you can only call my bitch plain
Cos' she fly when she take off
Shall I carry on, I love a landing strip
Feelin airborne, because of cannabis
Fuck the rulebook, laws, we breakin' em

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