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Artist: Crooked I
Album:  Apex Predator
Song:   Tell Them MF's We Made It
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Intro]
What's your twenty?

[Crooked I]
Now what the hell should I care about - nothin!
I'm Paramount; fuck it, bring the McClaren out
She gets sky miles the way I air 'em out
French connection, I Paris my whereabouts
You still in your parents' house
I'm with a vixen, hard nipples and a cherry blouse (oww)
No pants, derriere is out
I call it honeymoon without the marriage vows
I fuck with some street killers and D dealers
We after-market e'rything, even 3-wheelers (yeah)
I fuck with some blunt smokers and E-pillers
You don't like us, so what, the freaks feel us
Onion booty in some yoga pants
She got that "won't you come bend me over" stance (okay)
I got paper and she over stands
I got a message for the haters man

[Chorus: Crooked I]
Tell them muh'fuckers we made it
Tell them muh'fuckers we made it
Tell them muh'fuckers we made it
Tell them muh'fuckers we made it
Live good, still hood
Grind hard like a real nigga should
One hun'ned, stay true
Let 'em know - tell them muh'fuckers we made it!

[Crooked I]
Yeah, tell them muh'fuckers we made it
Johnnie Blue, tell them muh'fuckers we faded
Middle finger you and them motherfuckers who hate it
Still sleepin on us, leave them suckas sedated
By the time they wake up, probably flyin to Jamaica
On my birthday gettin my cake up (money!)
You dudes Hollywood, say what?
I call you virtual sex, you fake fucks
I don't think you want a problem
I'm Andy Warhol and Chalky on "Boardwalk"
I'm awesome when I draw guns
Be somewhere in Boston when the law come
With a, bad bitch and she know it's pimpin (P-I)
Her accent is like Lois Griffin (yeah)
The Lord's prayer over roasted chicken (amen)
Some red wine, let's toast to livin

[Chorus]

[Crooked I]
Breakin news, we makin moves
You new niggaz listen, pay your dues (pay 'em)
Don't be a dive artist or you play to lose
Kick you while you're down in my favorite shoes
Box me? You need a drug test
Box full of shells, let's have a slug fest
Then I tell your hoe put on her fuck dress
Give me brains for fame, that's suck-cess
The best revenge and this is murder now
You talk behind my back, I ain't even turn around (nah)
Ants to a giant, I ain't even heard a sound (nah)
Attitude up, I ain't finna turn it down (nah)
VH1 bitch in a black Carerra
Gettin Viacom pussy in this ratchet era
Fuck her weave up and her black mascara
Then pass by my haters blowin Jack Herer (yeah)

[Chorus]