Crooks from Sketches5 by Buggy, Gazpacho
Tracklist
| 5. | Buggy, Gazpacho - Crooks | 3:00 |
Lyrics
My city magic like Mike
Bow-Wow through the flight
Buggy hit me "Let's write"
Play it up, no lie
New endeavors, it's a new era with some new talent on the mic
O-Town represent
South Florida, be advised
Future ain't laid out, gotta make it happen, gotta realize
Whipping the Sherp
Can't even drive it to work
Still going bad in the dirt
Twittering bitches, they chirp
Gaz and Bug with the fur
Hit the booth, no shirk
New pot, I might stir
Temper, I won't curb
My city magic like Johnson
Aids dripping from my johnson
Got the pass like I’m Ronson
Crooked out like Salvador
On the rooftop of the Broadmoor
We never cared if it’s called for
Quality over everything
Fuck a price tag
Bitch, take off the Tom Ford
I’m never du jour
Get this bitch jumping like four on the floor
Hit that shit raw with all fours on the floor
Losing her scent, Jo Malone or J’Adore
Haute couture with a low bob
Coke rims on a nosejob
Rhymes tight but the flow odd
Always upfront with the faux pas
We the crooks, no crowbar
Taking the loot
We shopping for grills and the ice sharp
Hop the fence, yeah we trespass and take show cars
Driving Japanese, won't catch us in Mopar
Speeding off, hear the bang, run, no cold start
Fuck! Should've bought the rollbar
This life ain't for the faint of heart
It's a true religion, no designer belt
Golf sneaks, move in stealth
My pockets green like the Celts
Not rich, this is wealth
Shopping at Neiman while all y'all still shopping at Belk
Faux fur, think they pelts
Prada shades with a Gucci belt
I’m gonna fuck you until you smell
Escargot, coming out of my shell
Balenci' runners, call me Marcel
Dropship but you call it wealth
I would never stoop to that level
I would rather hit up a festival
I would rather go eat my vegetables
I would rather go down to Hell and get ass fucked by the damn devil
Hit me up Montero
We can dance the bolero
Dogs breaking out of the kennel
I can promise I won’t be gentle
I hate when bitches ask “How many you dropped?” And I say “Bitch, several”
Aping out like Serkis
Aping out like the circus
In your city like the circus
We some freaks like the circus
Bitch I’m out here pitching tents on the fly, call me McJerkus
Skinemax at the videodrome
Feel like I’m ripping her cervix
Give her shivers like Cronenberg
Going rabid like Cronenberg
Naked lunches like Cronenberg
Bitch we’re fly like Cronenberg
Switching lanes like I'm 'bout to merge
Watching stock like it's gonna surge
We the crooks and we stay in first
Give a fuck 'bout what you heard
