Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I & Sauce Tha Boss
Crooked I & K-Young
Crooked I & Horseshoe G.A.N.G
Crooked I
Crooked I & Jim Gittum
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I & Horseshoe G.A.N.G
Crooked I & Horseshoe G.A.N.G
Crooked I
Crooked I
Crooked I
[Verse]
Yeah
I'm in my Range, switchin' lanes now
You can't see my passenger, she's giving me brains now
She got ice in her mouth, tell me that ain't wild
Cop's next to me, peepin' my Colgate smile
We 'bout to take this here back to la casa
Where her homegirls waitin' for the ménage à trois
Crooked's a don and a mobster
If hoes act right, they might win an Oscar...
Mayers, no liar, is my game on fire
Is it the attire or the chrome wires
Is it they desire my chips, I roll by you in whips
Sittin' so low it's like I have no tires
Crooked I is flyer, gotta keep a bad bitch
But I ain't booshie, I fuck a chick that's average
Face with mad zits, you better have tits
And a big ol' ass to grab , bitch!
(Yeah)
[Chorus]
Yeah
I sit the whip on low profiles
Cruise by real slow
Watch your hoe smile
She gon' ride with a boss
You got no style
Hunnid thou' on the neck
Bitches go wild
Yeah
I think a nigga need to slow down
Got my name in the mouth of every hoe 'round
Think I fucked every quarter piece in this whole town
Niggas is jealous, so I keep the four pound
Caped crusader, no, I never save a bitch
Free plus Jada, those are some of my favorite chicks (Yeah)
I ain't sayin' who, yeah, I fucked a famous bitch
Maybe two or three, taught 'em all some gangsta shit
Run back to your hubby, teaching 'em new tricks
Business before pleasure, but see they do mix
What you expect? They see me pushin' new whips
Leanin' Louis the 13th, I take a few sips
Penthouse at the Trump, get 'em in the mood quick
Plus a down bitch always need new dick
Some of that out of town pussy is the best, man
Them country hoes love niggas from the West, man
Them pork chops gave her insane, breast game
That fat ass bringin' a Vera Wang dress pain
And on the East Side of L.B., it goes on
We poppin' bottles at the Vault and takin' hoes home
[Chorus]
Yeah
I sit the whip on low profiles
Cruise by real slow
Watch your hoe smile
She gon' ride with a boss
You got no style
Hunnid thou' on the neck
Bitches go wild
Yeah
I think a nigga need to slow down
Got my name in the mouth of every hoe 'round
Think I fucked every quarter piece in this whole town
Niggas is jealous, so I keep the four pound
My West Coast girl, got the GT to twirl
My East Coast shorty, I met her at the 40-40 (Yeah)
My West Coast girl, got the GT to twirl (Yeah)
My East Coast shorty, I met her at the 40-40...
40
Ya know
[Outro]
Yeah, It's Pimpmania
If you ain't pimpin', I don't need ya, man
Sorta like Michael Jackson don't need Jermaine
Ya know
Y'all niggas gon' make me show you how worldwide our shit is
I might land in Bush
Cross [?] airport in Houston
I be at Pappadeaux, poppin' hoes
Y'all know what it is
It's Pimpmania
[Chorus]
Yeah
I sit the whip on low profiles
Cruise by real slow
Watch your hoe smile
She gon' ride with a boss
You got no style
Hunnid thou' on the neck
Bitches go wild
Yeah
I think a nigga need to slow down
Got my name in the mouth of every hoe 'round
Think I fucked every quarter piece in this whole town
Niggas is jealous, so I keep the four pound
Low Profiles was written by Dominick Wickliffe.
Low Profiles was produced by Komplex.