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Correct Crenshaw/80s And Cocaine Lyrics
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Anderson .Paak
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Correct Crenshaw/80s And Cocaine
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Lyrics:
You can me catch rolling down Crenshaw (Crenshaw) Is that a motherfucking Impala? (Bitch Yeah) Magazine on my lap, I'm rolling indo Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window Gang signs Parked at the light, give a fuck about a bitch nigga Only nigga worth six figures that still click triggers On my way to LAX, fuck the freeway Riding through South Central in the 'Wood like I should But I'm a Compton nigga, west side monster nigga You should know by now, I fuck with all kinds of niggas Call Big U and we going to see about that vagina in you You don't bang huh? That's that out of town in you My niggas eat late night, Mel's Diner menu You a shooter? Better have that North Carolina in you I had wolves at all kinds of venues Dub's show I let the snub show Shall I continue? Fucking niggas up like it was '05 Like Dre just listened to my whole demo and cosigned Talking out your neck, get you buried in no time I heard you niggas looking for me, Blood You can me catch rolling down Crenshaw (Crenshaw) Is that a motherfucking Impala? (Bitch Yeah) Magazine on my lap, I'm rolling indo Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window Gang signs Nip be where the Crips be Skeme be where the Bloods be Nigga, I'm with the shit, give a fuck if niggas Cuz me Say the wrong things wrong time, get a blood beef Same color rag, still laying where the subs be Naw fuck that nigga I'll have a prostitute to open the trunk and cut that nigga I'll have a couple crooked cops come and touch that nigga Then get a bully in the pen to come and fuck that nigga Life is crazy, yeah my life is crazy Don't let Calabasas fool you, I'll kill you baby Bury you in my backyard, shit I'm sittin on five acres You wanna go to war? I got the paper Nigga wanna fade? I got the taper Nigga want to shoot? I got the laser Any bitch that want to fuck, I got a take it And I don't put no tints on my whip One strap, full clip nigga! You can me catch rolling down Crenshaw (Crenshaw) Is that a motherfucking Impala? (Bitch Yeah) Magazine on my lap, I'm rolling indo Gang signs, watch us throw them out the window Gang signs Bullets coming through the windows and the walls That's on the set, all my niggas on call Don't pray for me, pray for them niggas Menace to society, I'm like Lorenz nigga I want the rims nigga, and your gold chain Don't blame me, blame 80s and cocaine I want the rims nigga, and your gold chain Don't blame me, blame 80s and cocaine Ay yo I wake up, put on chronic like bitches makeup Kush like Nicki and Meek, it's hard to breakup 38 tucked, take a piss and eat my breakfast Six bitches at my kitchen table ass naked I got more bitches than Hugh Heff, niggaI 'm reckless Iced out Playboy pendant hanging from my necklace Used to take a brick chop that bitch up in sections Pack it in the car like its Mexican no flexin' It's that whip work, chop that, sell it out, we cop that On Wimbleton and Brazil in my impala with the top back Where my nigga Top at? Remember them days before you and Rock brought Watts back? We was in Stevenson Village in front your crib nigga Leanin like a top hot, ordering Tommy burgers with everything Cop back my Glock fat nina Ross Akon black Bullets pop up out of nowhere like State Farm BLAT!
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