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Introducin mr. lucci, tha wig split loco |
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Unfuckwitable crook have yo whole gang in a choke hold |
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I run wit 4 niggaz that's so cold and i'm known for gettin dirty |
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I smack niggaz for 30-30's, dispersin slugs in a hurry |
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Cant let no nigga disturb me or interrupt me when i'm on my mission |
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Watchin these niggaz scurry from choppers wit clip extentions |
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All hataz be flinchin when i appear in they dimension |
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Strivin on bad intentions puttin niggaz life up on suspension |
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Jus aint a normal nigga, i be that diabolical figure |
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Straight weeded left all dead, they braided up lookin slicker |
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Crooked scissorhands and tha rippla got my back down 4 whateva |
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I'm a 16, smokin clever, 155 a devil |
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Aka tha crooked rebel wit a neck full of gold and ice pebbles |
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All my stoneycrook brothaz stay flossed out to tha top level |
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Mr. lucci neva settle wit punk boyz on hate shit |
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Whoopin niggaz azz, quick and fast like an agent on matrix |
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Chorus |
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Who dat blowin big killa in tha back of tha club |
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Who dat choosin real women while deletin tha scrubs |
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Who dat rollin up tha cake, who's a crook in tha place |
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Who dem ipsy tipsy playaz from tha lone star state |
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We tha cats you dunno takin ova thangz |
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We tha cats who don pulled akickdoe on tha game |
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We tha ones wit tha guns, we tha crew wit tha juice |
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We dem crook typed playaz boy dont let us get loose |
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[mr. pookie] |
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Open yo eyes wide playa, take notice of me |
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Aint no quittin while i'm rippin, no intentions to flee |
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Got my calvary posted now tell me, wha ya'll wanna do? |
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Got no time for ya boastin ya think ya bad wit yo crew |
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Now who's tha victim left to breath on tha mic |
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He cant handle me really so now he agged and wanna fight |
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I'm tha hype of tha party, tha ammo and a clip |
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Take a breather 4 i leave ya face down where you sit |
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And tha competition, oh they get flattin by bows |
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Cause we aint bowin down, busta think he bad cause he older |
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I'ma show ya, time to pick tha place up in tha check and shit |
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And if you aint no dallas sho nuff to be reckoned wit |
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Pick a betta click wit a mass of foes ( and wha?) |
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Let tha record show how we surpass em though |
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Now wha you maskin 4? |
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Who it is? it's tha rippla turnin heads when i enter |
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Tha pookie wit tha mista |
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Chorus |
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[mr. pookie] |
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Now we got em lookin got em all up in our grill |
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We cant stop we 2 crooked, so its like pass me tha kill |
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On tha real, i'm chillin, so they betta make way |
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Got lucci spittin some venom, y these bustaz wanna hate? |
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So say wha u say and we gon do wha we do |
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Continue to drop platinum azz hitz by tha crew |
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I'm used to bein smokin on a regular basis |
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Refuse to be, sellin dope and catchin these cases |
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I choose to be, tight up on my game like a pro |
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Smashin on these hoes, and makin tha big doe |
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Behold, mr. pookie slash rippla jones |
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I been livin like a crook since tha day i was born |
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On my own homie, i spit tha game how i feel |
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Its time to let em all know its about to get real |
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Tha deal is playa, keep yo hands off, watch that damn talk |
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And proceed to leave so please walk |
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Chorus |
