CRIME MOB Crunk Inc is a song recorded by CRIME MOB that illustrates a melody and dynamics that make CRIME MOB shine. As part of an amazing album, Crunk Inc lyrics will satisfy your music cravings. Sing along Crunk Inc lyrics using the lyrics on this page.
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CRIME MOB Crunk Inc lyrics
CRIME MOB Crunk Inc video
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Crunk Incorporated. We ain't taking nuttin this year, We comin' straight for ya.
Talkin' bout gettin' crunk nigga. Fuck that shit you talkin' nigga.
When I see yo ass nigga, this how shit gon pop off.
This how shit goin' go down from here on out nigga.
So we gotta tell y'all niggas to wake the fuck up. Cyco Black let em know....
Fuck that shit that you talkin'
Fuck that nonsense nigga I'm outside
You gotta problem wit my clique I'm outside
I got my gun in my motherfuckin' ride
We bussin' heads so you bitches better hide
Crunk to the motherfuckin' I.N.C.
Mike, Gray, Black, and Killa behind me.
Park in the street wit Crunk and A.D.
So I dare that nigga to come and try me.
Dare that nigga to walk my street.
Watch me cock it back and let go.
Comin' up popular, he's a fuck nigga I'm a let his ass know
He ain't nothin' but a ho.
Fuck yo words, yo words don't mean shit.
All that talkin' get yo ass hit.
Beat yo bitch wit a baseball bat a-rata-tat-tat on yo ass real quick.
This real shit and I don't play games.
ATL be my domain.
Creep yo cast, and beat yo ass so
Fuck that shit you talkin' mayne.
Yeah, bitch fuck that shit that you talkin'.
Go get yo clique and start walkin'.
My crew too thick so get off me to fuck wit you I got whodi.
Peepin' the scene so don't test me, ho don't try me I stay ready,
Yo shirt goin' be so damn heavy, I snipe yo ass like I'm Wesley.
Got a problem I solve so ho let's take it outside.
Revolver tucked in my pocket I'm feelin' what in my ride.
Bussin' heads is my specialty, One like me, you will never see,
Ho you know I'm wit M.O.B. Wanna buck? It's whatever G.
Keep on poppin I'm a show you just how deep we are.
Y'all niggas thank y'all buck?
We'll have y'all seein' stars.
You'll think you're touchin' Mars, cause we some must asses.
A second blastin' anywhere where there be shit talkin'. So do not get smart
Bitch, cause here we runnin' thangs,
Ain't got no time for lames,
Just bout that money mayne.
Just watch me spray some flames.
Get up, release some anger.
I keep sixteen in the clip, and one off in the chamber.
Back to: CRIME MOB lyricsTalkin' bout gettin' crunk nigga. Fuck that shit you talkin' nigga.
When I see yo ass nigga, this how shit gon pop off.
This how shit goin' go down from here on out nigga.
So we gotta tell y'all niggas to wake the fuck up. Cyco Black let em know....
Fuck that shit that you talkin'
Fuck that nonsense nigga I'm outside
You gotta problem wit my clique I'm outside
I got my gun in my motherfuckin' ride
We bussin' heads so you bitches better hide
Crunk to the motherfuckin' I.N.C.
Mike, Gray, Black, and Killa behind me.
Park in the street wit Crunk and A.D.
So I dare that nigga to come and try me.
Dare that nigga to walk my street.
Watch me cock it back and let go.
Comin' up popular, he's a fuck nigga I'm a let his ass know
He ain't nothin' but a ho.
Fuck yo words, yo words don't mean shit.
All that talkin' get yo ass hit.
Beat yo bitch wit a baseball bat a-rata-tat-tat on yo ass real quick.
This real shit and I don't play games.
ATL be my domain.
Creep yo cast, and beat yo ass so
Fuck that shit you talkin' mayne.
Yeah, bitch fuck that shit that you talkin'.
Go get yo clique and start walkin'.
My crew too thick so get off me to fuck wit you I got whodi.
Peepin' the scene so don't test me, ho don't try me I stay ready,
Yo shirt goin' be so damn heavy, I snipe yo ass like I'm Wesley.
Got a problem I solve so ho let's take it outside.
Revolver tucked in my pocket I'm feelin' what in my ride.
Bussin' heads is my specialty, One like me, you will never see,
Ho you know I'm wit M.O.B. Wanna buck? It's whatever G.
Keep on poppin I'm a show you just how deep we are.
Y'all niggas thank y'all buck?
We'll have y'all seein' stars.
You'll think you're touchin' Mars, cause we some must asses.
A second blastin' anywhere where there be shit talkin'. So do not get smart
Bitch, cause here we runnin' thangs,
Ain't got no time for lames,
Just bout that money mayne.
Just watch me spray some flames.
Get up, release some anger.
I keep sixteen in the clip, and one off in the chamber.
These lyrics are not available for printing.
Crunk Inc received 9 out of 10 based on 28 ratings.
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Copyright: Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing
Songwriters: LEWIS, JONATHAN / SMITH, ALPHONCE TYREE / LEWIS, VENETIA / HENDERSON, CHRIS
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