Crooked I - Xplosive lyrics

[Intro: Crooked I] Hip Hop Weekly, no relations to the magazine Crooked I, C.O.B. ya'll know what we doing right Ya'll gotta forgive me for last week man I get real emotional over that snitch sh** 'cause Got a lot of people locked up Ya naw mean Yeah, like my little brother Byron He locked up in one of them motherf**er Texas Departments of Corrections you know, f** them n***as So I get real emotional with that type of sh** What up Pi We gonna lay back this time though What up Rico I'ma be cool don't worry about me I got my pistol, my Hennessy Oh yeah, I was supposed to rap right there but uh Shouts out to everybody supporting this cla**ic series I'ma send ya'll a bulletin on Myspace [Verse 1: Crooked I] Week 30's the new 20, this is unfair abuse I spend extra where my ancestors used to wear a noose The necklace cost more than tuition at Syracuse So much ice, if you melt it you could make carat juice Got thug in my spirit I'm selling Hip Hop Weekly condoms now just so you could f** with my lyrics Lot of n***as' style s** when I hear it Irritate my ears like f** when I'm near it Here it is I'm the LLC, the Escorp, the INC, I am the biz Crazy k**ers want to ride on my nigs Like babysitters I gotta keep my eye on you kids When I'm in the club I can feel you looking at me Just remember my trigger is Crooked happy When I put a price on you pussies like hookers Call me sugar daddy, pay for them bullets gladly Sad we can't just all get along Especially when the DJ's playing my favorite song I think it was Kanye, Flashing Lights I'm on the floor sandwiching between some jazzy dykes That's when a hater walked up with them ashy Nikes You know the kind that ain't exactly white Even though I can I don't exactly fight Said he wanted to talk to me but didn't ask me right So I whispered in his ear I'm the cla**y type But if I shoot you what would that be like? You understand me right? I'm from Eastside Long Beach, we do this sh** the G way I can't put the shine move on replay So I wait outside then I let the heat spray Damn I love it when a club's next to the freeway (the 110) But enough of that negative talk I'm vice president of Treacherous Records, executive boss My focus never been lost When it comes to presidents, the deader the better Get cheddar whatever the cost New West move effectively To bring it back man we got to move collectively The West Coast savior that's what you expect to be How you gon' save it by yourself when you can't f with me C.O.B., spirit of dead mobsters in us Organize and we all can eat lobster dinners The U.S. mint keep giving guap to winners Bill Gates and Warren Buffet can't stop them printers I'm just leading the blind over beats and the rhyme I'm just speaking my mind one week at a time Know you eager to shine, just believe in your grind Like I'm believing in mine, keep reading the signs The other day I was in front of the barber shop I seen a man with one leg get up and start to hop He had a smile that was hard to stop Now think of his hand next time you looking at the cards you got Thought about it as I pulled out of the parking lot Over the years I've balled, look at all the cars I've bought Then I had to thank God that my bars are hot I'ma make it to the top, X marks the spot Bullseye, hit it like I'm working with two semis Serving perfect verses from New Jersey to New Guinea This is Hip Hop Weekly, 30's the new 20 Want to shout out everybody but it's certainly too many This your sh**, C-R double O sh** Week after week we hitting you with this flow sh** People on the streets say Crooked we want some more sh** So I keep this mic in my palm, my sh** the bomb [Outro] Yeah, I told you I'm sending a Myspace bulletin To everyone supporting this motherf**ing series It's history in the making And whoever's listening to it is making history Holler at your boy, C.O.B., Circle of Bosses California's on fire right now Lot of people getting evacuated from they homes and sh** Keep your head up, see you next week NW, Next Week, New West whatever