Tear Da Club Up Thugs, Project Pat - Who the Crunkest lyrics
[Tear Da Club Up Thugs, Project Pat - Who the Crunkest lyrics]
(folks on the right)
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
(people on the left)
Juicy J you know the time is tickin short
Now I'm reachin for the vault
Grab them clothes that match the night
And them things they call they aunt
Yes a nigga know I'm quiet
If you don't talk they think your soft
But I be quick to pull and blast
And leave your body full of chalk
Never talk cause when you talk these hoes
Be all up in your biz
Bring the word up where you livin
All the shit a nigga did
Ho, I ain't did no fucking dirt or
Rolled no bodies in the trunk
I shipped some keys over seas
Medal flour mixed with funk
I call the police 911 "Their's been
A murder on my set"
And when they pull up on my set
We pop them things and then we jet
On the low is how I keep it
If you want your blood to spill
Run your mouth off in the street
And pull your gun to shoot to kill
If you real
If you realer than a motherfucking gang
On the block is where you hang
Throw them motherfucking thangs
Nigga, chopping up the cake slinging
Rocks or pushing weight
Ghetto nigga's from the south
Ain't no law that we can't break
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
DJ Paul what you know about going out
Heading out, riding out, down south
Finding DJ Paul with the gold
And diamonds in his mouth
Riding in the Rover with the bars and
The broads in the cars behind me
Could you tell me how'd you find me
Rolex hanging up out the window shiny as hell
I must have gave myself away
With my diamond bezzlebling
Sling the Rover in the garage
Cranking up the Caprice
Time to check up on my traps in the b-a-z
(busy) week zoners, hanging on corners
Slanging that marijuana
Ho we been known since we been
Gone good since this early morn
Biggity-bust them
Dust them thinking we blood donors
In my hood
I'm like whats up with something that's on us
Grooving with the Hypnotize Camp Posse boys
Took my credit card, the Lexus
Bought ten of them toys (ha, ha)
I got you thinking wishing you
Was thru with the Hypnotizers
But facing failure you can get
The club crunk like us
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker
Knicky-knack paddywhack
Automatic ghetto bust
Some say they down but they shady
So in Glock I trust
I shall bust, if you in it mane
Represent it mane
If it's all about that ghetty green
Then I'm with it mane
Understand where I'm coming from
Out the ghetto slum project Pat
Tear Da Club Up Thugs out here slanging drugs
Making lame dugs bite the dust
If they step to us
Ain't no need to cuss, even fuss
Let that Luger bust
If you real, you can keep it real
Never fake the deal
If you gotta kill for your meal
Then you handle that in the street
The gat is a tool used for regulating
Popping off lead at your
Hat when you violating
Incriminating eyes when you see me
Passing in my Lex haters in disguise
Don't you book this killa to a test
Laid to rest
Must have been your time for you to clock out
Had a vest but you should have
Had your fucking Glock out
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?
Who the crunkest in this mother-
Who the crunkest in this motherfucker?