Crime Scene

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Big H] I tour any ends, Strawberry Benz Niggas getting happy, we were never friends I go anywhere, lose weight Have cats doing cartwheels, you move late Any funny business, bum bye bye 'Dem little idiots, might even try Walk with the strap, wanna know why? Don't want to catch us, scratch out my eye Can't use me cah I'm not a tool Can't kick me cah I'm not a ball Wagwan, wagwan, everyone cool Can't diss me, nah nah not at all I go psycho skitz, switchknife cut them to bits Man want to talk about H's hits Blade, Pablo, man move bricks If the truth gets told, they act cool but they ain't cold Can't see them, like they ain't on road I don't want to hear about the stuff they sold Can't eat me in a move You mad, henchman? Manna eat food I go mad, everyone screwed One big machine gun, no one move Did you make that stuff (truss)? Look like you take that stuff (truss) You lot hate that stuff Can't diss me cah you're on stuff [Verse 2: Blade Brown] Yeah Cuttin' through the ends in a new motor Switched up the light, yeah I got a new rock Strap the worker with a package and a [?] Now you sealing all the dots up with a lighter Just like to send a shout out to my lifers Appeal on the settings, let's hope they give them something lighter Rolling with a shooter, that's a striker In other words a little g's upon [?] Yeah, this rap shit's too easy brother Just phoned the link and told him that I need another (let's go) Yeah, he ain't a greedy brother Go hard and break breddas, like we need each other No homo, they say the buj makes the fiends go slow-mo Tell him that's a no-no Mixtape buss, no promo Lines still bangin', but keep 'em on the low low [Verse 3: Paper Pabs] How you gonna hate on us? Got a lot of talk, I call them high performance cars (zing) Alex Ferguson, my players always smacking goals Wrapping Os, fuck around and we'll be cracking skulls In the trap for years, feeling like I never leave Bitches, pussies, poison, they should never breed Hooker hoes coming to my booking shows Reading Revelations and the Book of Joel (yeah) Armani shades, haze be my aftershave I parked the grub and told the judge that I'll behave Giving brown in the car with the windows down Magistrates simple, tricky when you're in the Crown Rather peak, I hardly sleep Say you robbing shit but you the type we call a thief Caught a case and realised I weren't stacking properly Rap's a hobby, usually with the crack and Bobby