Crooked I, Silva Satin - Uh-Oh lyrics
[Crooked I, Silva Satin - Uh-Oh lyrics]
Uh oh nigga
Bring it
This is what happens when you bring
The orchestra to the ghetto
(live orchestra)
Yea, is ya'll ready for this?
Bein' the ghetto representative I am
I'm guaranteed to slam
When I drops that whoopty wop bam
Somebody stop me from poppin
I'll be god damned
I'm at the chop shop gettin
My drop top slammed
I'm hotter than a skillet
Grabbin' the mic to kill it
Pillage your village
With the illest lyrics
I feel as though my skill
Is the realest asset
That I possess
It's Crooked I takin' over the west, yes
I'm at the Benz dealership
Cell phone and a glock
Straight outta the ghetto lookin' like I
Don't belong on the lot
But I'ma cop one, drop one
Then I'ma smash through LA county
Jump out that V6 with
House shoes and brownies
Flossin' on the one time
Money burnin like a vampire in sunshine
(burn)
For those who don't know what I said
Game I'm spillin'
It's like the ceilin'
Over your head
It's the C-R double uh-O uh-O K-E-D
Rockin' the whole sha oh uh oh
It's the C-R double uh-O uh-O K-E-D
Rockin the whole sha oh uh oh
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, uh oh
The prolific writer inside of
This pacific sider
Won't let me write up
Simple hate in spite of the
Money I might acquire
I gotta be tighta
Than any thug that recite a
Yea my pockets mighta get wider
But see I'm still a RIDA
I slide up on hoes who be clubbin'
'Cause I don't see nothin wrong
With shovin' a muffin up in your oven
The lovin' after the huffin and the puffin
You can choose, I ain't hand-cuffin
Baby I'm reppin from the W-E-S
Wait a minute t-S
ID-E-S we get ready to BS
PS we fresh for '99 you suckas
No more hittin' licks and
Trippin' off these fuckers
Now that ski mask is strictly for Aspen
I used to crack crews like statues in Agnes
Now I got 'em slam dancin'
Like Marilyn Manson fans
And throwin' a tantrum to the anthem
Known Crooked I comin' steadily, heavily
In felony they tellin' me my pedigree
It better be incredibly high fidelity
See, let it be known hypothetically
Step to me?
Wrong theoretically
Your head will be flown, flown
I'm backstage in the zone
It's 10: 54
Six minutes Crooked I and you're on
Uh uh on first I do my s-s-song
Then I take a lady h-h-home
And there you have it
Thats what happens when the T to the IL
Connects with Mr crooked I
You see us comin?
Uh oh
Bring it
This is what happens when you bring
The orchestra to the ghetto
(live orchestra)
Yea, is ya'll ready for this?
Bein' the ghetto representative I am
I'm guaranteed to slam
When I drops that whoopty wop bam
Somebody stop me from poppin
I'll be god damned
I'm at the chop shop gettin
My drop top slammed
I'm hotter than a skillet
Grabbin' the mic to kill it
Pillage your village
With the illest lyrics
I feel as though my skill
Is the realest asset
That I possess
It's Crooked I takin' over the west, yes
I'm at the Benz dealership
Cell phone and a glock
Straight outta the ghetto lookin' like I
Don't belong on the lot
But I'ma cop one, drop one
Then I'ma smash through LA county
Jump out that V6 with
House shoes and brownies
Flossin' on the one time
Money burnin like a vampire in sunshine
(burn)
For those who don't know what I said
Game I'm spillin'
It's like the ceilin'
Over your head
It's the C-R double uh-O uh-O K-E-D
Rockin' the whole sha oh uh oh
It's the C-R double uh-O uh-O K-E-D
Rockin the whole sha oh uh oh
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, uh oh
The prolific writer inside of
This pacific sider
Won't let me write up
Simple hate in spite of the
Money I might acquire
I gotta be tighta
Than any thug that recite a
Yea my pockets mighta get wider
But see I'm still a RIDA
I slide up on hoes who be clubbin'
'Cause I don't see nothin wrong
With shovin' a muffin up in your oven
The lovin' after the huffin and the puffin
You can choose, I ain't hand-cuffin
Baby I'm reppin from the W-E-S
Wait a minute t-S
ID-E-S we get ready to BS
PS we fresh for '99 you suckas
No more hittin' licks and
Trippin' off these fuckers
Now that ski mask is strictly for Aspen
I used to crack crews like statues in Agnes
Now I got 'em slam dancin'
Like Marilyn Manson fans
And throwin' a tantrum to the anthem
Known Crooked I comin' steadily, heavily
In felony they tellin' me my pedigree
It better be incredibly high fidelity
See, let it be known hypothetically
Step to me?
Wrong theoretically
Your head will be flown, flown
I'm backstage in the zone
It's 10: 54
Six minutes Crooked I and you're on
Uh uh on first I do my s-s-song
Then I take a lady h-h-home
And there you have it
Thats what happens when the T to the IL
Connects with Mr crooked I
You see us comin?
Uh oh