Juicy J - Who the Crunkest lyrics

{​Lord Infamous [DJ Paul]}​ Who the crunkest in this motherf**er? [folks on the right.] Who the crunkest in this motherf**er? [people on the left.](x4) {​Juicy J}​ You know the time is tickin short, now I'm reachin for the vault Grab them clothes that match the night, and them things they call they aunt Yes a n***a know I'm quiet, if you don't talk they think your soft But I be quick to pull and blast and leave your body full of chalk Never talk cause when you talk these hoes be all up in your biz Bring the word up where you livin, all the sh** a n***a did Ho, I ain't did no f**ing dirt or rolled no bodies in the trunk I shipped some keys over seas, Medal flour mixed with funk I call the police 911 "Their's been a murder on my set." And when they pull up on my set, we pop them things and then we jet On the low is how I keep it, if you want your blood to spill Run your mouth off in the street, and pull your gun to shoot to k** If you real, if you realer than a motherf**ing gang On the block is where you hang, throw them motherf**ing thangs n***a, chopping up the cake. slinging rocks or pushing weight Ghetto n***a's from the south, ain't no law that we can't break {​Lord Infamous [DJ Paul]}​ Who the crunkest in this motherf**er? [folks on the right.] Who the crunkest in this motherf**er? [people on the left.](x4) Who the crunkest(x7) in this motherf**er? {​DJ Paul}​ What you know about going out, heading out, riding out, down south Finding DJ Paul with the gold and diamonds in his mouth Riding in the Rover with the bars and the broads in the cars behind me Could you tell me how'd you find me Rolex hanging up out the window shiny as hell I must have gave myself away with my diamond bezzle{​bling}​ Sling the Rover in the garage cranking up the Caprice Time to check up on my traps in the b-a-z([-busy) week Zoners, hanging on corners slanging that marijuana Ho we been known since we been gone good since this early morn Biggity-bust them, dust them thinking we blood donors In my hood, I'm like whats up with something that's on us Grooving with the Hypnotize Camp Posse boys Took my credit card, the Lexus, bought ten of them toys (ha, ha) I got you thinking wishing you was thru with the Hypnotizers But facing failure you can get the club crunk like us {​Lord Infamous [DJ Paul]}​ Who the crunkest in this motherf**er? [folks on the right.] Who the crunkest in this motherf**er? [people on the left.] (x4) Who the crunkest(x7) in this motherf**er [Verse 3: Project Pat]​ Knicky-knack paddywhack, automatic ghetto bust Some say they down but they shady so in Glock I trust I shall bust, if you in it mane, represent it mane If it's all about that ghetty green then I'm with it mane Understand where I'm coming from, out the ghetto slum Project Pat, Tear Da Club Up Thugs out here slanging d** Making lame thugs bite the dust if they step to us Ain't no need to cuss, even fuss, let that Ruger bust If you real, you can keep it real, never fake the deal If you gotta k** for your meal, then you handle that In the street, the gat is a tool used for regulating Popping off lead at your hat when you violating Incriminating eyes when you see me pa**ing in my Lex Haters in disguise, don't you boot this k**a to a test Laid to rest, must have been your time for you to clock out Had a vest but you should have had your f**ing Glock out {​Lord Infamous [DJ Paul]}​ Who the crunkest in this motherf**er? [folks on the right.] Who the crunkest in this motherf**er? [people on the left.] (x4) Who the crunkest in this motherf**er?(x8) Who the crunkest(x7) in this mother-(x3) Who the crunkest(x7) in this motherf**er?