[Intro: Crooked I] Yeah, I'm feeling like Jay Z on Reasonable Doubt My first debut album probably be my last, it's all good though Us COB boys we out here, n***as say: "Are y'all some d-boys?" n***a, we d-boys, we weed-boys, pill-boys, syrup-boys Whatever it take to get the money, ya know what I mean? Ghostwrite y'all n***as some lyrics, whatever y'all n***as need, man We out here (haha) Y'all motherf**ers never seen n***as like us We the real deal, we the real movement Hold on I gotta take this call, I holla at you in a minute [Verse 1: Crooked I] n***as prolly in top of the Cosmopolitan Olive in the dirty martini, we be the Parliament The C.O.B conglomerate get the camera and document The opposite of nonsense n***a, we building monuments Power moves avoiding them shower shoes cause f** a con, f** a P.O. man You cowards lose, screw you in your county blues See our views is to get money like Howard Hughes do Limited liability corporations based in Vegas for less tax and wasted wages Taste the Asian cuisine We conversate over a plate of that Red 8, that's chopsticks and sake Win like Steven the architect, believing in our connects With all respect, the hot b**hes watch me Feel the mob vibe when the COB hits the lobby We not with the co*ky, we confident n***as walking across the casino floor like Sam Rothstein Striding like Goliath and we ain't sweating the small things We all kings, turn Vegas into New Orleans Get cash money with no limit, man we talk green Woman eavesdrop but sweety you need not You can join us, let me show you the way that G's rock Never touch your purse, your chair or your door handle Chivalry is dead for boys, I'm more man though Love it when your Prada dress hotter than Orlando Picture perfect portrait like you're posing for Van Gogh The crap table, we sipping on black label I'm loyal, I die for my brothers, I'm rap's Abel I'm torn from the cloth of the Gods, defeating all the odds You fake rap n***as y'all the facade Y'all the miraged, meanwhile I'm talking to broads Like after this awesome ma**age we can talk a ménage Out in Vegas on business [Hook: K-Young & (Crooked I)] We out in Vegas on business My briefcase full of big face Benjie's We flying by you on the freeway We spending, we spending Like all this money burning my pocket (Conducting organized business, business) Like all this money burning my pocket (Conducting organized business, business) Out in Vegas on business [Verse 2: Crooked I] Yeah, let's hit the strip and smash Bright casino lights bouncing off the tinted gla** Pull up to the Caesars Palace, pour Louis in the gla** Bartender didn't ask, I'm a repeat customer It's written on my face, I'm a elite hustler If life is a b**h I'mma just keep f**ing her Raised in the gutta and I don't miss my home Italian sports car, French cologne Of African descent blackened by the sun, dark skin Capone On capitalism, a rapper eating rappers so that's cannibalism Yeah, you ba*tards shoud listen I'm on a Hannibal mission A Carthaginian king burying gold Bringing the troops to the 702 area code Meet on the roof of that Bellagio The helicopter's waiting on the helipad Talking code when we in front of that pilot though Keep our business on the quiet yo It's hoes in the desert for whoever try to know Ay yo, land this muhf**a on the Venetian They got a decent Louis store, I need some sh** for this evening See they finally let the G's win, celebrate our achievements p**y n***as don't wanna see they better leave then We here on business, we mixing it with pleasure We some p**y pirates these b**hes getting the hidden treasure I bet your boyfriend he can tell you're getting fresher Like, "where did you get them shoes and that sh** that's in your dresser?" Your Vegas trip with your girls was so regular Till you ran across me and my predators We caught you slipping and this ain't sh** but a business trip When you tell him use censorship We in Vegas on business, conducting organized biz [Hook] [Outro] 15 freeway to be exact (haha)