Lyrics BBBB (feat. Tena Jones) - Crooked I feat. Tena Jones

So what′s the moral to the million dollar story?
It ain't about money.
It′s more about making something out of nothing.
And if you can draw inspiration of that.
That shit million dollars.
Shit!
That's even more than a million dollars(Still led a thug life
I'm still an outlaw
Me and God cool
While you prayin′ on my downfall)
Did the shit without y′all
Come to your crib
Give your shots and draw blood
Like a doctor making house callsBoss, boss, boss, bitch
Every cross frost bit
Ross bit, every bar sit, this is dog shit
In your yard bitch
This is so disrespectful
Bitches know 'bout the gliss and glow
This a neck for Loop a time Lotus
Do it large, pulling up at the nudy bars
In stupid cars, and supercharge Rovers
We superstar Novas, we shinin′
We super ballin' do it all over
We grinding, Who are y′all?
We're the ones who get the harsh words from critics
See my mind might forgive it
But my heart won′t forget it man
I'm hard work committed, my lyrics paint pictures
And my artwork is vivid
Just a hard working nigga
See I'm the ace, I′mma take your man′s place
Jack a king for his queen then it's the house rules
In the 90′s it was cut off khakis and houseshoes
Now it's panamera Porches
With the panoramic view
Down Atlantic avenue
That′s Long Beach nigga
Home of the LBC crew
Dynamics and dog pound
If you say you COBThat bitch pulling her drawers down
A wet clit with a piercing
My bitch pussy rock a five carat earring
Dive in to that crotch quick
Treat it like a motherfucking
Slaughterhouse, mosh pit
In this pacific division
I got an eye future, don't make the guy shoot you
That′s when your karma screw you
I call karma sutra, I beg your pardon screw ya
Ye I'm brongo brol go west into and
Make you pussy strict man
I Uncle Luke you
My crew too live for you motherfuckers
We independent July 4th you motherfuckers
Crooked got the word play of a Lupe Fiasco
And the gun play, will souffle, your toupee, you assholes!
It's a new day, look at my life path
Even though it′s melamine in my pigment
I grew up living equivalent to white trash
Why ask, the reason I buy jags
Without blinking the eyelash at the price tags
My past is so fucked up, it′s quite sad
But I went from homeless to property on the white sand
Pussy, pot, and promethazine I sold every drug
While you sucked a dick of a petty thug
You ain't ready love
Crooked′s part of the spaghetti club
He's giving bitches meat and balls
He′s everything he said he was
Chrome 38 45 9'sa metamorphosise my grind
This is organized crime
All I see is COB it′s like I'm borderline blind
And I'll die for it now
Since we was born to die fine
No nuts, no glory
Until they close the book on my million dollar storyStill led the thug life
I′m still an outlaw
Still led the thug life
I′m still an outlaw