whats krakin - fatboybiggz lyrics
[hook]
b3 raise the murder rate
i got your kids driving stolen cars on top the interstate
bad b*tch she gone f*ck and give me face, i won’t pay for her lace
the jakey’s got behind me i ain’t stop i took ’em on a race
i think n*ggas mad i took they bae they waitin’ for that day
to catch lil biggie lackin’ like what’s krakkin then they blast away
my piru cousin yellin’out “what’s brakkin” b*tch don’t come this way
i gotta f*ck but i will not take her on dates, and i gotta gun b*tch you better get out my face
[verse 1]
i’m in swervoland like i’m the man come check mе ’bout that sh*t
she suck my d*ck and i guess that he mad hе steppin’ bout that b*tch
posted up we used to hit them l!cks was steppin’ as a jhit
i heard these n*ggas talkin’ on my gang we pop out spin the bin
oh he not dead? well we gone spin again, pop out, shoot at him
we shoot at legs, or we gone shoot at ribs, we go limb for limb
b3 mackaveli b*tch i’m ballin’ i go above the rim
this for my n*gga’s trappin’ out the bando, serving grams for 10
[hook]
b3 raise the murder rate
i got your kids driving stolen cars on top the interstate
bad b*tch she gone f*ck and give me face, i won’t pay for her lace
the jakey’s got behind me i ain’t stop i took ’em on a race
i think n*ggas mad i took they bae they waitin’ for that day
to catch lil biggie lackin’ like what’s krakkin then they blast away
my piru cousin yellin’out “what’s brakkin” b*tch don’t come this way
i gotta f*ck but i will not take her on dates, and i gotta gun b*tch you better get out my face
[verse 2]
these b*tches lame as f*ck so why the f*ck they claiming us
ttb b*tch i’m trained to bust
smoking on gas this ain’t angel dust
smoking a backwood full of the runtz
these n*ggas they know what’s up, they don’t want no smoke with us
i really don’t give a f*ck ’bout you and yo crew çuz i will turn y’all into dust
this b*tch say she wanna f*ck until i put this d*ck in her and it’s touching her gut
i really don’t know the hoe so she gotta go once young n*gga catch his nut
he say he a stepper, that n*gga a b*tch, he not really gangster that boy not on sh*t
cova told me i need to switch my flow up, so when the hook come back i’m singing this sh*t
[hook]
b3 raise the murder rate
i got your kids driving stolen cars on top the interstate
bad b*tch she gone f*ck and give me face, i won’t pay for her lace
the jakey’s got behind me i ain’t stop i took ’em on a race
i think n*ggas mad i took they bae they waitin’ for that day
to catch lil biggie lackin’ like what’s krakkin then they blast away
my piru cousin yellin’out “what’s brakkin” b*tch don’t come this way
i gotta f*ck but i will not take her on dates, and i gotta gun b*tch you better get out my face
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