Crooked I - Grindin' lyrics

[Crooked I] Yo, this n***a never going broke again, picture me poor I walk in the j**elry shop, draw Glocks, empty the store Crooked's a man-eating lion please don't tempt me to roar Ghetto enough to put hydraulics on a Bentley Azure Pimp me a who*e, tough talk I simply ignore Thousand dollar automatic weapons defend me in war I rock a stalking cap in case I gotta pull it right over my well-known face and lay down the whole place Its k**er Cal styzz-al, where crimi-nals prowl My residu-als pizz-ile, my lyri-cal style Make them n***as sound boot-G It's like you telling a statue to flinch, my n***a your words don't move me They make want to triple this gauge And you s**ers'll be Gone in 60 Seconds, quicker than Nicholas Cage You get no action, I beats mo' a** than Joe Jackson I tote magnums even if I go fo' platinums I blast that Enyce shirt, I'll make your b**h drop her DK skirt Cuz that's how n***as in southern CA work I stay swift, walk with my chest out like an Ese on May fifth I'll tell you you ain't sh** Plus gangsta rap ain't dead, it never died It took steroids to the head and became Crooked I On the “book placed by the Gideons” We can feud like cowboys and Indians Or Israelis and Palestinians I didn't wanna resort to this But my cerebral cortex is a fortress where metaphors exist Hit you with the force of Morpheus after I transform my fist To a hammer too heavy for Thor to lift Through a course of metamorphosis The U-gang is more than sick Sicker than newborn p**n, swinging on some George Forman sh** Warn your clique, I'm coming, nobody's f**in' with Mr. I-con A natural born time bomb You know I gotta drop cowards with nine millimeters of Glock power Drop trousers, do your girl in a hot shower, for a hot hour Drop her off at the Watts Towers, the block's ours You seeing me not now or never I'll never let these snake n***as take me I blow out brains to entertain me when I'm angry I don't tangle, I choke, strangle, break both ankles Dangle you from a rope, clothes hang you from a cold angle The Mangler so anxious to k**, able to spill Ancient languages dangerous as 80 paink**ing pills Young jacker, Gucci hat tilted, gun clapper I'm every artist Suge ever signed in one rapper Chrome ending your life I'm strong enough to stab you with the wrong end of a knife – Gangsta type And the lyrics that I quote, poke through my clothing My father didn't want me here but I broke through a Trojan… It's on - Wake Up Show It never stops on The Wake Up Show On The Wake Up Show, it can't stop it's Tha Ro-oh-uh-oh… And we grindin' and I keep a fo' five in my lining…