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0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Lyrics » C » Crime Mob » Crunk Inc.
 
Crunk Inc.
by Crime Mob
 
Print LyricsPRINT LYRICS Send it to a friendSEND IT TO A FRIEND Send it as ringtone to your cellphone SEND CRIME MOB
RINGTONES TO YOUR CELLPHONE

Ay, Crunk Incorporated. We ain't taking nuttin this year, We comin straight for ya. Talkin bout gettin crunk nigga. Fuck
that shit you talkin nigga. When I see yo ass nigga, this how shit gon pop off. This how shit gon go down from here on out
nigga. So we gotta tell yall niggas to wake the fuck up. Cyco Black let em know....

[Bridge]
Fuck that shit that you talkin' [8X]

[Chorus]
Fuck that nonsense nigga I'm outside (What's up). You gotta problem wit my clique I'm outside (What's up). I got my gun in
my mothafuckin ride (What's up). We bussin heads so you bitches betta hide (What's up Aight).

Crunk to the mothafuckin I.N.C. Mike, Gray, Black, and Killa behind me. Park in the street wit Crunk and A.D. So I dare
that nigga to come and try me. Dare that nigga to walk my street. Watch me cock it back and let go. Comin up popular, he's
a fuck nigga I'ma let his ass know he ain't nuttin but a ho. Fuck yo words, yo words don't mean shit. All that talkin get
yo ass hit. Beat yo bitch wit a baseball bat a-rata-tat-tat on yo ass real quick. This real shit and I don't play games.
ATL be my domain. Creep yo cast, and beat yo ass so fuck that shit you talkin mayne.

[Chorus]
[Bridge]

Yeah, bitch fuck that shit that you talkin. Go get yo clique and start walkin. My crew too thick so get off me to fuck
wit you I got whodi. Peepin the scene so don't test me, ho don't try me I stay ready, yo shirt gon be so damn heavy, I
Snipe yo ass like I'm Wesley. Got a problem I solve so ho let's take it outside. Revolver tucked in my pocket I'm feelin
what in my ride. Bussin heads is my specialty, One like me, you will never see, Ho you know I'm wit M.O.B. Wanna buck?
It's whatever G.

Keep on poppin I'ma show you just how deep we are. Yall niggas thank yall buck? We'll have yall seein stars. You'll think
you're touchin Mars, cause we some must asses. A second blastin anywhere where there be shit talkin. So do not get smart
bitch, cause here we runnin thangs, ain't got no time for lames, just bout that money mayne. Just watch me spray some
flames. Get up, release some anger. I keep sixteen in the clip, and one off in the chamber.

[Bridge]
[Chorus]
(Aight [8X])



 

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