I Luv Y'all - KXNG Crooked

2019 I had the hottest flows

Fifty-two ghetto jams, word to Domino

I don’t wanna leave but I gotta go (I love y’all)

Said, I don’t wanna leave but I gotta go

In 2020 you should let the pill bottle go

Blow up some chronic smoke, let the marijuana blow

I don’t wanna leave but I gotta go

(My Brother Dizz Made This)

I don’t wanna leave but I gotta go

Lyricist of the year, lyrics are what they fear

They shivering, I can hear em', I did it

Another year, I’m switching another gear

I’m bumping Em in the hood, your theory get nothing here

I’m really a puppeteer pulling strings, you fuck with me

Crooked swings, you fuck with me

Bullet sing you a sad song (da da da)

You rappers never last long, blink your ass gone

All you talk about is crack, and you ain’t got bars

So your rap song remind me of bad reception on trap phones

Don’t let us catch you moonwalking through the jack zone

We leave you butt-ass naked in your Balenciaga’s

Roll your ass up like an enchilada in Ensenada

One blast look like I splashed Michelada against your Prada

Thank for God it’s Intriago, my shit is hotter

Your foolery is confusing me, I think I should do the eulogy

For the real nigga you used to be

2019 I had the hottest flows

Fifty-two ghetto jams, word to domino

I don’t wanna leave but I gotta go (I love y’all)

Said, I don’t wanna leave but I gotta go

In 2020 you should let the pill bottle go

Blow up some chronic smoke, let the marijuana blow

I don’t wanna leave but I gotta go

I don’t wanna leave but I gotta go

It’s nothin' y’all can tell me

I am a deity mixed with Pac, the Annunakiveli

I’m the modern Akinyele, if lil Mama got the jelly

Like Nas, I put my unborn God’s Son across her belly

Her Impala got Pirelli, she parking next to my old school

Then she give me brains in my house, like I was home schooled

My rap pace is systematic in this rat race

My fan base is just organic, nigga whole food’s

You get your streams from machines, shit is so different

But machines ain’t purchasing no tickets

Concert ticket sales so low ain’t even no crickets

The industry should be a Broadway play, because it’s so wicked

People pretend to be a friend of me but really be an enemy

My energy is I ain’t got time

For the bad vibes you sending me, but I keep a MAC-Ten with me

Offending me, your next of kin’ll be verifying your identity

At the morgue, I stay out the way

And don’t bother nobody till it’s time to come out and play

That’s the California way, how Deontay say it to this day

Either EY or AY ya’ll pray

Reverse the beat, I gave you a verse a week

I asked for the smoke and low level jokers were first to speak

Not even worth the beef, in search of their worst defeat, they just Earning an

associates in death, that’s murder in the first degree (Uh)

Shout out my homie Big Hutch, RIP KMG

The Benz is AMG, the Monte Carlos eighty tree

Dippin' through Crenshaw

I throw the West Coast up at the Nip mural

I’ve been Supersonic since Baby-D (RIP)

California is the mode I’m in

My sober mind, I can see through the soul of men

I can see what you holding in

Everything between Joe and Em’s between Joe and him

But keep playing slick with my name Joey, I’m going in

I only joke with friends

It’s Crooked

(My Brother Dizz Made This)

Yeah

On some Ready to Die, track number five shit

(My Brother Dizz Made This)

Anyway, let me salute Dizz

Dizz what up

Good looking my G

Everybody who rocked with this series you know what I’m saying

New Wave Distribution, Hitmaker Services, Family Bvsiness

I love all y’all man

I wish I could say I see you next week

TG behind the boards let’s get the fuck out of here

(I love y’all)

I’m gone