Crooked I Freestyle | LA Leakers Freestyle #008

Lyrics

[Verse] Rhyme sick since the intro Strapped on the radio, Glock hid in the trenchcoat Y'all quick with the insults, I stick to the stencil Find sick instrumentals, convicts in the pen know Convicts in the pen know what? I been had bars though Bitches on my bumper like models posing at car shows You ain't hardco', you's a mark yo Gassed like your flow coke, that's narco mixed with ARCO Me? I'm giving bitches Hank Aaron wood Let their throat kill all my babies like planned parenthood I've been a three-striker lifer livin' my life behind these Bars on death row since I was over there with Suge Still in my prime, no these are my best days Still hungry and starving, ribs showing like x-rays The way the tech sprays got me killin' leg days Call it animal control the way you niggas catch strays I'm in my bag, I'm back, bag back Take a L, get the bag back, receive paper, that's fax When I clap back, rrraat rrraat Put your head on flat, now your snapback's a dad hat, nigga Gun bars, the real one is by the lumbar I squeeze on rappers who subpar Niggas like to front hard, that's until I drop him in his front yard Swerve off crazy like a Uber driver with one star Fuck with Kxng Crook, that notion, it's crazy Like the King's magnetic pull on the ocean, I'm wavy I fuck with Lazy Bone but ain't a bone in me lazy I hustle man, put rappers in a morgue and go Tracy Lot of niggas wanna rap, Crooked is the tightest, gotta touch sicker than a Midas Got a trigger that'll sit a nigga down quicker than the itis Illest on the west spittin' with the nicest, drippin' with the ices, if I didn't grow up living in a crisis So precise I'm a poltergeist on the open mics Cold as ice, always winnin' like I'm rollin' loaded dice I lynch competitors, hang 'em, that's if their rope is tight Pussies get hung in public like a poster promotin' dykes God, this the talent you gave to me I grew up in the hood so real niggas relate to me The best bar for bar so go tell your A&R This ghostwriter's on fire like that Nicholas Cage movie The lift off, rapper's faces getting lifted off Jehovah witness in this business, you got no gift at all Like free bands sippin' dirty, I'ma sip it all That's 'cus my circle is the future like a crystal ball C-O-B, this the cob, nigga the vicious mob We gon' turn it up as soon as the listeners twist the knob I'm with the Leakers so the bitches call If she ain't talking dick massage I'm responding later than Nick Minaj Quarantine the whips I got a sick garage I stand tall as Zeus in the midst of gods I'm winnin' against the odds, if I ruled the world I'd be a ghetto superstar like Mr. Pras mixed with Nas You mumble rappers ain't forming no normal sentences My only interest is to 4-4 'em with no more witnesses This global menace is your total nemesis, you promo senselessness I shine and enhance green, photosynthesis God damn Crooked, you so ridiculous That's what Elizabeth said when I said "Let me re-dick you, Liz" You fast forward rappers, yeah I get you kids Just put this verse in your man purse like the bitch you is I'm forgettin' my rap so let me go off of the top of the dome Drop you clones when I cock the shalom That's the piece homie, rest in peace homie Long Beach homie, the side is the East homie That's on me