Dancin' on Your Grave

Dancin' on Your Grave Lyrics Crooked I feat. Brevi

Broadcasting live from The Mint room!


We ain't afraid of gettin dirty 'round here
Layin in the sand, middle finger in the air! (YEAHH)
Anticipate when the rain gon' come-
Dancin' on ya grave, covered in the sun..
Covered in ya, son..
Covered in ya blood..
C-Covered in ya, son-
Dancin' on ya grave, covered in the mud!

Crooked I, Verse 1-

Put a deuce up, when Crooked cruise up-
I pull a coop up, bullet proofed up
You bullies tool up?
Fully full what?
I’ve been on California corners-
Longer than the bottom of a hookers shoe-
I'll fuck a dude up!
I’m so proper with the chrome chopper..
And if my hand gun is horny, don’t think I won’t cock her!
Cockroaches better phone coppers
If I get shot I call my own doctors
A strong cold COBster..
You niggas playing with this G shit?
It’s different levels of this street shit
Automatic heat spit, maggots picked the wrong one to beef with-
And Perez Hilton won’t be the only faggot in deep shit!
The ratchet hit ya like a packer tackling Steve Smith
Or leave the clapper, and get it Crack-a-lackin with these fists!
Peep this, got chronic cloud for your weed spliff
My street team pushing more loud than Steve Riff!
Biggie died when they laid son to rest (2Pac)-
It's like the Industry blamed us-
Labels running from the west!
I decided to invest street money and it brought success
I was thinkin, "Fuck Exec's, til them fuckers cut the checks!"
So, what does that shit mean?
It means I risked doing 16 to bring you these 16’s..
I grew up with-niggas who threw up shit
Gang bangers, hustlers, all I used to fuck with..
Charcoal Murcielago, parked oh at the Wilshire Margot
Arco Hoes gas me up, way faster than the car go
Bitches yell, "Mr. Wells Fargo, he's rich as hell.."
Let the cigar blow, I don’t tip them well
Crooked? He's different- he tipped the Richter scale..
I’m an earthquake, I’m the best ever in the first place-
Unless june 16 is your birthday! (2pacs B-day)


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