Fashawn - Westwood Crib Session Freestyle lyrics

I thought I had a bad bitch
Til' I got a badder one
Used to rock the icepick way
Before I had a gun tell I never gave a fuck
Bout how low my khakis, huh
Used to smoke a bunch a dough
Feel like I got half a lung
Left inside my chestbox
Residue from yellow and red tops
Crack vowels to next block I'm El Chap'
The one the feds watch
Photographer, givin' headshots from
Planet Bedrock, get your bed rocked
For fuckin' with my pesos
General, don't do nothin' 'less I say so
Criminal salute me
You a gangsta then shoot me
Hopе you got a Uzi, you ain't kamikaze
You Kristy Yamaguchi
You pussy, I'm a don you's a doormat
The shit you do I don't


Condone nor еndorse that, yeah
I lay you out like a floormat
Right in front of your whore
Like this is war, black
Ayo and that's what it is
Hit the track like a baseball
Bat to your ribs nigga
F good nigga, west good, uh
Shoutout to my nigga Tim Westwood, you bitch
You know what it is
I be flowin' for my niggas who be holdin' biz

Down for sure, got rounds to blow
From the town that's called Fresno
Professional, you know? You Know? You Know?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no
Check it out, shoutout to my nigga
Cole, it's a Cole World, get your blankets

Yo, before you seen it with F
You probably seen it on the the cover of Elle
Hell, bag a model bitch, I might as well
I'm more west coast than Chanel
What's under that Chanel coat
Is gettin' unveiled
Uh, she gave me throat then she bailed
Call this dope love boat how it sails
Uh, watch me float off the smoke I inhale
To a roach from an L
A concrete road so i peddle
Narcotics to niggas in the ghetto
Smoke cronic up out a cigarillo, uh, hello
My life sweet as a bottle of amaretto
Warrior in my armor palmin' my metal
I'm a fat stack getter from a backpack nigga
To hoodrats with me I'm a black Jack Tripper
Back bender, crack shooter, rack spender
Santiago been had mula, I got it
Dirty or clean either way I
Was servin' a fiend
Or servin' the fans, supply and demand
Holdin' this microphone as if it was
A nine in my hand
I'm trustworthy, mine won't jam, little nigga
Your goes 'tut' and mine goes 'blam'
I might do it live on camp
Santiago, the desperado
You fuck around and catch a hollow
You don't know? well shit, I do, I know
To take these motherfuckers to
A whole other level
Santiago, the rebel in the house
In your mouth i will put my dick then I
Stuff it in your spouse
Church, that's where I take 'em
I eat stake, I don't eat bacon
I am not a muslim and I am not a christian
I'm just a nigga who's kickin' my
Shit for all my nig-nig-nigs-nigs-nigs-nigs

Yo microphone check, mic-microphone ckecker
Microphone check, mic-microphone ckecker
Microphone check, mic-microphone ckecker
Uh, yeah, Yo

I'm a tycoon like 40, OE in my veins
I'm good as Cuba Gooding
Cuban link on my chain
A pupil is dilated, the pupils is dilated
Affiliated with hustlers, one of us made it
I'm somethin' amazin'
Put the pieces together like
A mosaic or puzzle, i'm complicated
I bubble out the state, out the country
Flex my mind and my muscle
They hate to confront me mothefucker uh
I guess you can call me the pizza man
I can get you a piece of
Ass or a piece of tan on delivery uh
My delivery is literally wizardry
Listen attentively uh
Sinister similes and murderous metaphors
A spliff and some Hennessy is
Somethin' you can't afford
Coolin' givin dick to a puma
Then I'm back on my grizzly
On a mission for mula
It's the ruler, word to the Mueller
Take a day off like, the nigga
Was it Ferris Bueller? No days off nigga