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Текст песни «Creased Khaki Flow» от Crooked I

Представляем точный текст композиции "Creased Khaki Flow" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Crooked I . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Creased Khaki Flow» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Crooked I передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.

Crooked I - "Creased Khaki Flow"

Lyrics to Creased Khaki Flow : Go... Yeah... you wanna know what this is my nigga (The creased khaki flow) The creased khaki flow ykno what Im talking about, that gangsta shit, what else (the white tee spit) Yeah, Im talking about a whole motherfuckin can of starch nigga (the creased khaki flow) And one crease comin down the middle of a white t-shirt yeah (the white tee spit) Crooked Is cold-blooded like I gotta Rick James degree Im so rugged, switch lanes with me Im so thuggish, hos love it, flip change, live dangerously Only lames spit game for free You damn right this man writes his raps like his lifes in a crisis And Im twice as sick as Ms. Anne Rice is I stand right up squeezin the mic lifeless You might like my concise preciseness... like this Cats came in the rap game and claimin they crack slangin, the gat aimin In fact, they act just like Matt Damon Homie my gatll slay men You cats say when and... blaow I roll up on your block then I blast Cops finna ask who shot you while you rockin an oxygen mask I hit the gas in the drop finna smash to the spot Got my glock locked in the stash spot in the dash My six cruise on big shoes Im a lit fuse with sick views I got issues, I misuse... pistols Say we in combat, I spazmatic like a crazy Vietnam cat [Hook:] Yeah, crease your motherfuckin khakiz up Juice the batteries in your low-rider caddies up Chuck Taylors, white tees, slang cavy what These streets made me a trigger-happy nut Yeah, crease your motherfuckin khakiz up Juice the batteries in your low-rider caddies up White tees, Chuck Taylors, slang cavy what These streets made me a trigger-happy nut Yeah, its young Crooked Yeah you had a leg but my pump took it Now you hip-hop cuz you one-footed I lick shots, drop, here comes bullets I leave scenes sick as Hitchcock News wont even run footage (tell em) I come hooded jus like a grim...reaper Slim... keeper, 9 double m heater Creepin in tha streets, deep in the seats of tha jeep Beatin new releases through 10 speakers It gets deeper Im bringin that long beach feeling back See me on tha eastside where all of them killers at But my enemies dont wear raiders, saints, or even a steelers hat They wear a badge... how real is that' No matter what, ghetto life is still in my veins If you poverty-living, I know you feelin my pain Im still sick in the brain, skill spit with such meticulous game Shoot ridiculous like Nicholas Van Exel Guess whos sexing your step-daughters A nigga who can draw glocks better than sketch-artists When I walk in the club, hug your ho Hustlers know, Im nut-so with the thugsta flow Everythings open, nothing is closed Magazines throwing me on them fuckin covers to pose Look at young papi, cocky, never sold one copy Gun cocked rocky, please come stop me So and so is cool, whats his name is aight Homeboy is okay, but Crooked I is tyte Thats whats heard, thats my word, act absurd You cats get served cuz I rap disturbed Im closing doors with the quickness Im in the Pocanos poking hos hoping you dont poke your nose in my business haters Im scopin those from a distance Relentless foes get a broken nose for persistence Absolutely, cats bringin gats to shoot me I even watch all them rats actin goofy Disguised as groupies, thats a doozy Whats that bulge under your shirt' Thats a uzi... excuse me [Hook] Yeah! Long Beach is back, I told yall niggaz man Im comin down Atlantic Ave. letting my paint drip on the motherfuckin street 61 rag ay style, we gonna get this money and buy the Queen Mary 5-6-2 I told yall Long Beach is ba-a-a-a-a-ACK! nigga! gyeah! Creased Khaki Flow...The White Tee Spit Jim Gittum...Crooked I C.O.B. til we di-i-ie [ Creased Khaki Flow Lyrics ]

Содержание трека помогает не только запомнить любимые строки, но и ощутить связь с Crooked I. Возможно, вы заметите, как лирика «Creased Khaki Flow» перекликается с вашим опытом, или найдёте ответы на давние вопросы. Эта страница создана для ценителей музыки: здесь вы сохраните текст для личного использования, поделитесь им с друзьями или используете в творчестве. Погружайтесь в мир слов композиции «Creased Khaki Flow» — каждая строчка здесь обретает новый смысл.




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