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Correct Crime Poetry Lyrics
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Young M.A
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Correct Crime Poetry
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Lyrics:
Oh, this what we doing? Aight, aight bet I gotta get a little cocky on this one, man I gotta get a little bocky on this one, y'heard? Uh Holy fucking moly, I'm a superstar I drive super cars I fuck the smartest women I fuck stupid broads They know who I is They know who I are Fill this cup up like a battery and now I'm supercharged Fill this blunt up, take off like a rocket I see super stars Moon and mars Put a message on a bullet Now they know who my shooters are Covered up in these tattoos because we can't remove the scars Turn myself into a boss A ceo, I'm who in charge In love with the game Cupid shot me through the heart Had to break up with fame Because it broke my mood apart Man, I chase them checks so much I nearly tore my shoes apart I'm not a rapper, I'm an artist Bitch, do not confuse the art, no Just let that sink in I'ma let that sink in Who do I trust? Me, that's who I do what I must I do what I love You do what you lust I don't do it for luck I do it for bucks I do it for blessings Turn my L into lessons This is a message I don't hear you haters Must be losing reception I am the plug My only connect is connect with the money Don't fuck with my money The choppa went up, now you jumping like bungee Was raised in the city Was raised in the country They pour up the Henny They poured up the muddy Cut the bitch off, had to get it some cutty The prettiest nigga but shit could get ugly I got a blue heart but I throw up the bloody The money the blue That's word to Kentucky Don't care about shit The liquor, it numb me You hate me, you hate me You love me, you love me They leave when it rain They come when it sunny The grinch in my pocket, that's why they so grumpy She said that I'm cute, but cute is for puppies Bitch, I'm a dog Just feed me and fuck me And roll up a blunt while you rub me Put dick in your box, you put food in my tummy When we get home better take off them clothes and no phones Put your hair in a scrunchy Freak in the sheets but a queen in the streets Got me singing like isn't she lovely? I hate on niggas bitchin' Listen, trigger finger itching, just call me a junkie This shit is deeper than rap, this is above me I am the monkey that's stuck in the middle of misunderstanding and judgement They think that they bringing me down But I'm up to something I'm here and I'm sticking around This is not up for discussion, nigga Gimme some head until you get a concussion To me it's just normal, to some it's disgusting Yeah, throw her ass on the bed when she's fussing and cussing Like, assume the position, stop making assumptions Without the support I am nothing Shout out my producer, I can't forget the production I broke a few hearts, had to do some construction I swear it's so hard to ignore that seduction Red dot on the Glock look like she blushing I'ma just shit on them niggas that thought they were stopping my toilet from flushing
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