[Chorus: Crooked I]
Rappers ain't shit but hoes and tricks
They bang on the internet and mostly snitch (Oww)
When Crooked I drop, them n***as done
I'ma take the West Coast on another run (West Coast)
Rappers ain't shit but hoes and tricks
They bang on the internet and mostly snitch
When Crooked I drop, them n***as done (Yeah)
I'm take the West Coast on another run

[Verse 1]
Yeah
Think you could fuck with Mr. Crooked I? N***a, you high
The more you speak, the quicker you die
My warriors creep
They don't give a damn how many rivers you cry
You'll be dead while I'm gettin' head from a bitch in Dubai
N***a, do I look like I'm playin' a game wit'chu?
The main issue is where them thangs hit'chu
And rip clean through your brain tissue
Emp beam when I aim pistol
16 straight missiles so I can't miss you
Uh
187 is ya number
I'll tie you to the bumper of a hummer while I'm draggin' 'em
Hit that mafucka with a thumper, shots taggin' 'em
Shoot that sucka in his blood pumper for the fag in 'em
4-5 magnum
Straight body baggin' 'em
Before you toe taggin' 'em
Hit 'em wit the acronym (What?)
C.O.B
We California riders
I'm starin' at you cowards out the corner of my eyes 'cause...
[Chorus]
Rappers ain't shit but hoes and tricks (Woo)
They bang on the internet and mostly snitch
When Crooked I drop, them n***as done
I'ma take the West Coast on another run (Ha, ha)
Rappers ain't shit but hoes and tricks (Oww)
They bang on the internet and mostly snitch
When Crooked I drop, them n***as done (They done)
I'ma take the West Coast on another run (Let's go)

[Verse 2]
I invested in the block, ghetto millionaire stocks
Alife sneakers and the denim by Bare Fox (Okay)
Paul Smith eye wear, the Cartier watch (Yeah)
Hop out the McLaren, body's on a pair of Glocks (Woo)
Waitin' on any n***a that wanna swallow chrome (Yeah)
Waitin' on any n***a that I can follow home (Yeah)
When you think you're all alone, Crooked is behind you
Tappin' on your collar bone, told you I would find you (Remember me?)
Don't cry now when you witness the COB
You think I took it this far not to finish the job (Huh)
Bullshit, pulpit 'em, let the minister sob
He was so innocent, now he gotta send him to God
A militant squad with pistols hidden in the garage
Put my foot up your ass, further than a enema ride
Homie, you not in a mirage
I'm a killer with a different facade
I mean, for real, you 'bout to fill up a barrage
I'll shoot you and go get a massage
While I listen to Nas in a iPod, gettin' rid of my prob-lem
Talk shit like a professional heckler
Now without a gun, you set off metal detectors
Plate in ya head, n***a, you better respect us
Especially when you don't know what hetero sex is
I ain't come to hurt nobody tonight
But it's my life or your life
And I'm pro life, for life
That's how a boss been his whole life
I'm just a bad ass, low life
Why?
[Chorus]
Rappers ain't shit but hoes and tricks (Yeah)
They bang on the internet and mostly snitch (Stop bangin' on the internet)
When Crooked I drop, them n***as done
I'ma take the West Coast on another run (West Coast)
Rappers ain't shit but hoes and tricks (They ain't shit)
They bang on the internet and mostly snitch (Gang bangin' on the internet)
When Crooked I drop, them n***as done
I'ma take the West Coast on another run

[Outro]
N***a, rappers ain't shit
Hahahahah
Yeah
We feelin' good
Treacherous is the movement
C.O.B
The Block Obama
It's time for change
West
We can
Oww