Crooked I - Come On Baby lyrics

[Verse 1: Crooked I] I took my flight out of Long Beach, not LA Straight through Jet Blue I hit JFK Made history like the shot that hit JFK It's young jefe, ese, que p-a-s-a What's happening, I'm in NY, the mecca of this sh** And I'm California Crooked, mic wrecker of this sh** Rock heavy metal like the Def Leopard of this sh** For the record I'm the sh**, I'm as West as you can get In the back of the cab I was rolling through Hollis, Queens Where DMC's mama cooked chicken and collard greens Then I went to Bedstuy where B.I.G. said it was all a dream Next I hit BX to see what Kris Parker seen Pardon me for speaking on music from back when I was ten, chrome kickstand on a black Shwinn Back then we cut cardboard to backspin Then crack came in, started blasting the Mac-10 Joyriding GTAs, time to roll Cops chased us, jump out, crashed it into a pole Never had sh** so we stole Streets had me sewn up, stitched into the fabric of my soul Put my life and soul forward and spit it for my n***as Even if I didn't get figures I did it for my n***as And I get sicker as licorice swimming in my liver Sip the liquor 'til I piss a river Spit it from the center of my stomach Before I ever let my sk**s plummet I k** a million MCs 'til I'm ill from it Then I steal a hundred broads if n***as still want it Drop you from a summit so high n***as feel blunted Never lose my touch, with watermelons you can confuse my nuts Kicking the hugest bump Choose my whos, my whats, n***a use my guts Like the mouth of useless s*uts, your music s**s So accolades come, Crooked get the lion's share Mind of a scientist, I am there You know a n***a rhymes rare When you see a Eastside Long Beacher wearing a hundred carats in Times Square With or without diamonds, Crooked stay shinin' I'm uptown, Dodger jacket, suede lining I'm all day grinding Cause the music industry is like Americacn Idol Record execs play Simon 'Til you learn how to rap don't tell me sh** Told ya'll it's Eastside LB b**h C.O.B. family shall be rich Wealthy, f** trying to sell three zips Rather push Shelbys and swell these chips I won't fail me, I'm well equipped With the gift God dealt me I'm not healthy Way I spit, help me, I might as well be sick