Big Crip

I don't know which gun I gotta choose, fucking this bitch named Susan, in the back of a gta, money moving, big bricks improving, late night cruising, late night boozing. You don't pay the money, you'll be bruising, I'm fucking winning in this game. Homie didn't know my name, blood dripping off the gold chain. On the bloods my bullets rain, had my crip homies wish me luck. But these blood boys fucking suck, had to untuck my glock and shot up that red truck. What's next? White boy flex, holding switchblade up to their neck. Only way to get the check is if you totting that tech. Shot the bloods up with the .30 caliber, looking like a Cambodian massacre. Call my gun Excalibur, on the street without a challenger. hear the fucking bullets zip as I empty this clip, know I'm big crip. Out here with 5 burners, 50 murders, The boys put in the street work, See me smirk, out here you don't need paperwork, In the suburban swerving. Drinking Jack Daniel's and fire bourbon, got that C note with the Kalashnikov rocking the boat. Roll up and slit your throat, see me rolling loud, picking up a gun cuz you know what I vowed, walk in any room see the crowd. Got a cola can filled with cocaine, pouring it out on my katana, I'm chopping your boys up like it's heating up in a sauna.