Lil Durk, King Von - Crazy Story 2.0 lyrics

Known to let that MAC fly
Just like my nigga Doe (Bow)
I'ma let this MAC fly with this, hold on
I said I'ma let that⁠
Alright, come on (Von) , alright (Von)

Got a drop on this flexin' nigga
He from Tennessee
I had a thot, she be with the shit's
She told me where he be i say for sure
Baby let me know if you wanna eat
She like "Von, you already know
Just put put your girl on fleek"
I'm like "Cool, I can do that, boo
What you want some shoes?
"Jimmy Choo, with a handbag too
Red or baby blue?" she get to smiling
She ain't used to this 'cause
She ain't used to shit i'm just laughing
Could've been a pimp the way I move my lips
I be speeding


Could've been a driver the way
I push the whip you a ho
Could've been a bitch the way
You throw a fit but fuck that
Right back to the script 'cause
This a major lick he got bricks
Plus his neck is icy and it match his wrist
Now it's like six, told her hit his phone
Meet her in The Wic, but he ain't go
But he ain't that slow
Said meet him at the store
I'm like cool, let him front his move
Do what he gon' do
'Cause this the plot, put him in a pot
Let it cook like stew i grab my Glock
It been through a lot but
It still shoot like new
We at the top, yeah we lost a lot
But that's just how it go
But check the score, if y'all lose one more
That's 6 to 24
Let me focus, can't be zoning out
He pulling up now
He double parked, he ain't getting out
He in that push to start
That new Porsche, it's built like a horse
Colors like the fork
He got a ring, I guess he ain't divorced
Wife probably a whore
Now she walk up, she struttin' her stuff
This bitch thick as fuck
Got in the truck, kissed him on his lip
He cuppin' her butt
Now I sneak up, crouching like a tiger
Like Snoop off The Wire
The block on fire, so I
Take precaution, mask on, michael Myers
I'm on his ass, he finna be mad
He gon' beat her ass
But this what happened:
I got to the door, I thought I was cappin'
I was lackin', 'cause there go the opps
Yellin' out "What's crackin?"
I'm like, "What?", I'm
Like, "Nigga, who?", i was born to shoot
I got aim, I'm like Johnny Dang
When it comes to chains
So I ride, hit one in his arm
Hit one in his thigh
This no lie, bitch it's do or die
You say you gon' slide?
You got some nerve, yo' shit on the curb
Boy we put in work
From 64th, and from 65th, we not from 63rd

I got a drop on a rappin' nigga
I be from the 'Raq
I'm like, cool, better not front yo' move
Or you become a pack
You see Von, you see 40 Glocks, see Booka
You see MAC
Yeah free Mak, gone for a double homi'
Foenem got yo back but fuck that
Say you smoking who? Quickest way to die
Snatch who chain? Off who neck? Not mine
Ain't no point in trying
They not out, plus the police hot
Ain't no point in sliding
They be talking from the internet
They don't be outside
Hit the six, call DaDa out
Tell him 'bout a lick
We need tape, we need rope and phones
Don't forget the blicks he like, "Cool
How that nigga look?" I pull up some flicks
He like, "Damn I think I know the nigga"
He cool with his bitch
We at V-Live, but we went to Structure
But we played a lot
Got a goofy walking in and out
Telling me his car
He in a Cat, bet, I'ma pay you half
Just finesse
I'm 300, clips don't come like that
Three drums to his chest
Boom, boom, boom (Ayy, ayy, ayy)

Bitch, we lurking 63rd (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Bitch, we lurking 63rd (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Stretch gang, put in work (Ayy, ayy, ayy)