OOH YEAH

We searched "Chris Crack Type Beat" and picked the first one... hehe

What the fuck, you got tags on yo' pillow fo'?
Smoking Woods, [?] mo'
When I be in the mental [?], danger imminent
Road Ranger dissening, this is just the [?]
Get to listening to what the fuck we gotta say (We gotta say)
Ducking cops, fuck 'em! I ain't wanna pay
Gotta play, if you want returns then put designs upon your earn
You gotta say my name, increase my earnings
Burning, the way the whip is turning
Bro, we dodging your checkpoints, rocking the set, boys
Please be direct, noise is prominent and condiments is necessary
Indian, my chest is hairy
Legendary kid, that's why the best is buried
Western are'
Set in sun, tripping about getting guns
Spitting just to best the pawns

Uh
Burnt bank to Long Beach, smoking the long leaf
We out in Cali, rolling up our Omnitrix on me
Two bitches, they want me, gotta pull out the 'Tommy
Left the crib looking fresh, feeling like a tamale
And everybody rapping like they got a pistol, though
Bring it to the mic and go ballistic, never miss a hoe
You don't got permission, why you dissing all my niggas, yo?
Pull up on a mission, hit up Dillinger and with that, go

I'm in the motherfucking Stolo, pass the light
We on the hillside puffing out smoke
Passing all my brothers lung damage
Miles away, my mother must manage, I ain't gonna come back
And whatever happens might be in my favor
I'm a slave night-type deal, and I want the color for my picture
Wait, in the light, lady in the white praying
Stay sitting safe, maybe it's a taste? Wait
I'ma shed my skin tonight, I am so far from home
Take ya, take ya, take ya, take ya, take, take
Take your ass the fuck outside, I'd rather be ignored

Ooh, yeah
They're not ready for this crazy young G shit
They'll never be ready, for this west coast shit
[?] is gonna make you act right

What the fuck you got tags on yo' pillow fo'?
Smoking Woods, [?] mo'
When I be in the mental [?], danger imminent
Road Ranger dissening, this is just the [?]
Get to listening to what the fuck we gotta say (We gotta say)
Ducking cops, fuck 'em! I ain't wanna pay
Gotta play, if you want returns then put designs upon your earn
You gotta say my name, increase my earnings
Burning, the way the whip is turning
Bro, we dodging your checkpoints, rocking the set, boys
Please be direct, noise is prominent and condiments is necessary
Indian, my chest is hairy
Legendary kid, that's why the best is buried
Western are'
Set in sun, tripping about getting guns
Spitting just to best the pawns

Uh
Burnt bank to Long Beach, smoking the long leaf
We out in Cali, rolling up our Omnitrix on me
Two bitches, they want me, gotta pull out the 'Tommy
Left the crib looking fresh, feeling like a tamale
And everybody rapping like they got a pistol, though
Bring it to the mic and go ballistic, never miss a hoe
You don't got permission, why you dissing all my niggas, yo?
Pull up on a mission, hit up Dillinger and with that, go

I'm in the motherfucking Stolo, pass the light
We on the hillside puffing out smoke
Passing all my brothers lung damage
Miles away, my mother must manage, I ain't gonna come back
And whatever happens might be in my favor
I'm a slave night-type deal, and I want the color for my picture
Wait, in the light, lady in the white praying
Stay sitting safe, maybe it's a taste? Wait
I'ma shed my skin tonight, I am so far from home
Take ya, take ya, take ya, take ya, take, take
Take your ass the fuck outside, I'd rather be ignored

Ooh, yeah