Crooked I - I'll Still k** lyrics

[Verse 1: Crooked I] I'm from the Eastside of Long Beach Hustle on these cold streets C.O.B. is mafia like a kiss on both cheeks Pigs know what it is, f** the police They k**ed my homeboy, no justice no peace I need a C section, I'm overdue four weeks I cut myself out of the belly of that known beast I'm on the Eastside rolling with my OGs n***as in the Beach love me f** with me they gon' squeeze Gangsta music, play it in the dark while you're drinking It make ya do sh**, have a gang banger anxious to feud with you Empty chambers to it then blame the way they produced it, too sick I should get an award for n***as I floored To my n***as in prison, snitches should live in the morgue Then I scoop up they b**hes and who*es My dick big as a sword stabbing b**hes as thick as Melyssa Ford Yeah I got the Bentley Coupe kitted And I put it in the Beach before you know who did it The windows too tinted, they wonder who's in it Wait a few minutes, it's Mr. Dodger blue fitted You don't believe me watch my DVD I'm so Ice Cube I could have wrote for Eazy-E I'm so Ice-T I should f** with Evil E The whole West Coast is Crooked, he's a G A California boss like Tookie Williams f** Arnold Schwarzenegger cause the p**y k**ed him Watching it on TV with my homegirl Made us get a tattoo that said "f** the whole world" Some MCs you call the best rapper ever Say I'm a legend, Crooked but yeah you rap better Kick some more motherf**ing drug acapella I say I'm so sick with the birds that I'm salmonella My booster b**h from the Bronx, her name Annabella She give me so much Versace I call her Donatella I need Prada, that's all that I gotta tell her I can afford it but it's hella expensive being an honest fella That's why I sit on the block, this is the plot Listen to Pac, slang the medicinal pot Some of my n***as detoxing like Bishop Lamont Then they say alright f** it, let me get what you got I'm trying to ride like Russell, getting richer n***a 29 hustles but when you got side hustles Cops want to k** you, n***as like trouble So I keep pieces like 29 puzzles C.O.B. for life, we some rich thugs When we make it rain it ain't strip clubs Make it rain bullets, I'm talking big slugs West Coast to d**h, that's why I get love (x2)