"Bullet holes in the front, bullet holes in the rear, I jumped out without a scratch, guess I'm supposed to be here, I'm thinkin' my mother's prayers probably kept me alive, god let me come out the car, could've left me inside, but uh, sometimes I wonder why he let me survive, especially since so many done met a deathly demise." - Crooked I
Lyrics under "Let's Go..."
Download: Crooked I - Fireflies Freestyle.mp3
I’m shining like I’m ten million fireflies, if I fall crooked, I arise, I arrive in the flyest rides, sittin’ on wires, the tires wide, the process of shittin’ on you has been finalized, but I ain’t nobody to idolize, they didn’t expect this nut to bust in the game, but I came by surprise. I came from the gutter, now nothing can stop me from speakin’, not even a stutter, nothin’ on the bread butter, nothin’ but government cheese in the cupboard, I used to hate it but it made me stronger, so now I love it, before I was hoppin’ in 64’s, mama was shoppin’ at thrift stores, coppin’ her kids’ clothes, popular kids know little Dominick’s piss poor, look now, Dominick and Triago get dough, and I still get harassed by them Nazi cops, that used to chase a little nigga when the block was hot, choke me out with the baton, how many rocks you got, then they wonder why we grow up and bust shots with glocks, police your own hood, get the fuck outta mine, guess you wanna see us dead, one thug at a time, no food in your fridge inspires a hustler’s grind, watchin’ your mama cry over bills will fuck with your mind, started runnin’ with some armed robbin’ home invasions, them rich folks, they take a look at the chrome and paid us, whole ghetto was criminal, it was so contagious, when in Rome, look what becoming Roman made us, dark-hearted, I just hit a lick, then I hopped in the whip, couldn’t get the car started, them niggas that I robbed, they gathered up they guns, they came out shootin’, I wasn’t a hard target, shots came rippin’ threw the metal and glass, the engine crate, I duck hit the peddle and smashed, bullet holes in the front, bullet holes in the rear, I jumped out without a scratch, guess I’m supposed to be here, I’m thinkin’ my mother’s prayers, probably kept me alive, god let me come out the car, could’ve left me inside, but uh, sometimes I wonder why he let me survive, especially since so many done met a deathly demise, damn, probably to tell the world my million dollar story, when it comes to lyrics, the shit you spittin’ kinda corny, your writing’s kinda bore me, I’m raisin’ the bar from niggas who was spittin’ hot before me, fuck gettin’ the top forty, I’m magic on the mic, every verse you hear’s voodoo, I’m a gang-star nigga, the world premiere guru, I’m still a pimp, your girl, her rear cookoo, come here, take off that La Pearl brassier boo boo, and now you’re fuckin’ with a rider, both started singing when I stuck the shit inside her…
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