Crooked I - I Died In Your Arms lyrics

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Crooked I - I Died In Your Arms lyrics

Yea, I'm on my way to Miami man I'm feeling real Miamish up in the booth right now Ya feel me They get mad cuz I have fun Ohhhh, I just died in your arms tonight Hip-Hop Weekly Week eighteen and a half, f** it How you gonna get mad at me cuz I have fun with what I do You got your own life n***a Live your own life Get ready on the right, ready on the left Spaghetti colored junk put a Chevy on the set n***as know I get my fatty on the deck Frozen Evian Ice heavy on the neck Dade County ya holding weight Put on my fresh linen Its close to 8 Pull up at the Hit Factory And blow up the gate Let me in it's your boy from the Golden State I hit the mic with my million dollar mouth piece Than I'm out, peace; I'm bouncing to South Beach f** a dress code I'm demanding my respect White tee C.O.B. bandanna on my neck I hit the floor two chicks saying let's dance Fat a** and Juicy Couture sweat pants Poppin' pills in Paris We call em X-Clan Never be a groom, but I'm the best man [Refrain] I just died in your arms tonight I see you haters s** a dead mans dick It must've been something you said I just died in your arms tonight I don't focus on you too long Thanks for the motivation though Its C.O.B. we do what we wanna do yea Hip-Hop Weekly Week 18 Club Rolex I miss you Club Coco I miss you I just died in your arms tonight You too Solid Gold I'll be back though Damn it feel good to see Crooked up on it You only live once Get lost in the moment I don't know why opponents say they want it Tone it down a bit The beef I Corleone it Take a chromosome from Capone and ya clone it Cross it with Buggs Johnson And I'm what ya gonna get When I'm on ya head who ya gonna get crumbs spit don't split n***a no sh** You ain't never in the hood you a mystery Like a pregnant pit bull you a b**h to me Circle Of Bosses yea, that's the click to be Every week we be dropping hot sh** for free Yet still you p**y n***as wanna talk bad Till you take off on em just like a launch pad Send em home to the home the one that we all had Really, I'm the one your kids should call dad My f**ing haters I'm more focused on n***as who love the movement C.O.B. Circle Of Bosses Ya know what I mean Everyone supporting this motherf**ing movement I love y'all to d**h And we gonna keep dropping this sh** on em They say if you love something you do the sh** for free I love this sh** n***a Hip-Hop Weekly f** it week 18 and a half Just ta let you all know I love y'all for the support Feel me? Yea it's the C-R-double OK Hoes gonna make me pull another OJ b**h nagging me on another no way Hand me a condom b**h f** the foreplay Okay I might change my ways pardon a n***a I'm gangsta raised Stacks my chips cuz they been paid When I'd rather hit the club and make it rain for days like OH! I just died in your arms tonight Now that's for you motherf**ing haters C.O.B. n***a We got a ma**ive movement spreading all over the world like a disease Ya know what I mean yea I'm f**ing with this sh** I had the motherf**ing hardtop Benz Cruising down Sunset banging this sh** back to back to back Not the Instrumental though the real song I was like f** that sh** I gotta hop on that sh** Ya know what I mean Hip-Hop Weekly we ain't stopping Boss the Album New West Anthem Miami I'm coming Collins Ave doors up Y'all know what it do Crooked I Not