Songtext zu 'Banger On My Lap' von Crooked I

Banger on my lap, my seats lean back
I'm ready when beef crack, I hope you know the business
White tee attached, fresh Dodger hats
Long Beach is where we at

Crooked keep infinite cannons to blam at y'all,
Put hammers in ya mouth like Ambasol, a damn Neanderthal.
Ratchets draw, I'm last to fall, standin tall.
Your blood on the canvas that's all the camera saw.
Yeah, fake pussies despise me,
Cause I pull up dumpin shots while the Bathing Ape hoody disguise me.
And for the shit I'm writing you should straight pull it, surprise me;
I'm a beast I ain't letting straight bullets survive me.
This Wes Craven's a thug, I'm Tech wavin
Makin you a rest haven for slugs, your chest cave in
You meet your death facin the mud, I'm neck breakin
Die in ya vest tastin ya blood, I'm breathtaking.
My trigger finger gon ring them things towards you,
Doctors'll go'n find a machine to breathe for you
Them hammers'll King Thor you, the beam floor you
It tore through your spleen, poor you, choirs'll sing for you.
I'm missin noodles, you niggas poodles.
Don't try to resist cause this is feudal, but I give you kudos.
Props my nigga, then I'm a give you two holes.
When cops come askin what happened? I'm a tell em who knows?
Never talkin I'd rather walk in a cell,
Direct a call for the bail cause tellin's awful as hell
And snitchin's a nail in ya coffin as well
Get knocked off, from shots called, by young bosses in jail.
This is the life we, lead nightly,
Creep lightly through the streets with G's like me.
It's like the certain made Adam and Eve bite me,
I put the knowledge on good and evil on trees like leaves.
Paper, I flip cream with my notebook
Hot sixteens and a dope hook
Sometimes I freestyle, now I call that flow the no look
You don't use pens either, good but, you're no Crook.
I dust you flow off, just to show off
Busters know, they can't turn this hustler's blow off.
Face it you basic, you wack-ass niggas is getting wasted.
I reach in my waist and the 38 rip.
Bullets straight zip, through the air like a spaceship,
Hit you under the chin, give you a face lift, you ain't shit.
I'm on some bang bang Circle Gang shit.
Puttin blood on your shoes like Game's Hurricane kicks.
Get murdered man, with perfect aim, get your vertebrae's clipped.
Further pain administered from my burner, same clip.
Slip, we won't leave a witness,
When you in my city, I hope you know the business.
When you in my city, hope you know the business.

Banger on my lap, my seats lean back
I'm ready when beef crack, I hope you know the business
White tee attached, fresh Dodger hats
Long Beach is where we at, yeah I hope you know the business

I got my banger in my lap, my seats lean back
I'm ready when beef crack, nigga I hope you know the business
White tee attached, yeah fresh Dodger hats
Long Beach is where we at, so I hope ya know the business.