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Artist: Crooked I f/ K-Young
Album:  Apex Predator
Song:   Vegas on Biz
Typed by: 

[Intro: Crooked I]
Yeah, I'm feelin like Jay-Z on "Reasonable Doubt"
My first debut album probably be my last, it's all good though
Us COB boys, we out here man
Niggaz say, "Are y'all some D-boys?"
Nigga we D-boys, we weed boys, pill boys, syrup boys
Whatever it take to get the money, knahmean?
Ghostwrite you niggaz some lyrics
Whatever y'all niggaz need man, we out here, hahaha
Y'all muh'fuckers never seen niggaz like us
We the real deal, we the real movement
Hold on I gotta take this call, I'll holla at you in a minute

[Crooked I]
Niggaz pollyin top of the Cosmopolitan
Olive in the dirty martini, we be the Parliament
The C.O.B. conglomerate, get the camera and document
The opposite of nonsense nigga, we buildin monuments
Power moves, avoidin them shower shoes
Cause - fuck a C-O-N, fuck a P.O. man
You cowards lose, screw you in your county blues
See our views is to get money like Howard Hughes
through, limited liability corporations, based in Vegas
for less tax and wasted wages
Taste the Asian cuisine, we conversate
over a plate of that Red 8, that's chopsticks and saki
+Wynn+ like Steven the architect, believin in our connects
With all respect, the hot bitches watch me
Feel the mob vibe when the COB hits the lobby
We not with the cocky, we confident
Niggaz walkin across the +Casino+ floor like Sam Rothstein
Stridin like Goliath and we ain't sweatin the small things
We all kings, turn Vegas into New Orleans
Get +Cash Money+ with +No Limit+, man we talk green
Women eavesdrop, but sweety you need not
You can join us, let me show you the way the G's rock
Never touch your purse, your chair or your door handle
Chivalry is dead for boys, I'm more man though
Love it when your Prada dress hotter than Orlando
Picture perfect portrait like you're posin for Van Gogh
The crap table, we sippin on Black Label
I'm loyal, I'd die for my brothers, I'm rap's Abel
I'm torn from the cloth of the Gods, defeatin all of the odds
You fake rap niggaz, y'all the façade
Y'all the mirage, meanwhile I'm talkin to broads
Like after this awesome massage we can talk a ménage
Out in Vegas on business

[Chorus: K-Young] + (Crooked I)
We out in Vegas on business
My briefcase full of big face Benji's
We flyin by you on the freeway, we spendin, we spendin
Like all this money burnin my pocket
Ohhhhhhhhhh! (Conductin organized business, business)
Like all this money burnin my pocket
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! (Conductin organized business, business)
Out in Vegas on business

[Crooked I]
Yeah, let's hit the strip and smash
Bright casino lights bouncin off the tinted glass
Pull up to the Caesars Palace, pour Louis in the glass
Bartender didn't ask - I'm a repeat customer
It's written on my face, I'm a elite hustler
If life is a bitch, I'ma just keep fuckin her
Raised in the gutter and I don't miss my home
Italian sports car, French cologne
Of African descent, blackened by the sun
Dark skin Capone, on capitalism
A rapper eatin rappers so that's cannibalism
Yeah you bastards should listen, I'm on a Hannibal mission
A Carthaginian king burying gold
Bringing the troops to the 7-0-2 area code
Meet on the roof, of that Bellagio
The helicopter's waitin on the helipad but yo
Talkin code when we in front of that pilot though
Keep our business on the quiet yo
It's hoes in the desert for whoever try to know
Aiyyo, land this muh'fucker on the Venetian
They got a decent Louis store, I need some shit for this evening
See they finally let the G's win, celebrate our achievements
Pussy niggaz don't wanna see it they better leave then
We here on business, we mixin it with pleasure
We some pussy pirates, these bitches gettin the hidden treasure
I bet your, boyfriend he can tell you gettin fresher
Like, "Where did you get them shoes and that shit that's in your dresser?"
Your Vegas trip with your girls was so regular
'til you ran across me and my predators, heh
We caught you slippin and this ain't shit but a business trip
When you tell him, use censorship
We in Vegas on biz - conductin organized biz
Haha, them COB boys

[Chorus] w/ ad libs

[Outro: Crooked I]
15 freeway to be exact
Hahaha, bullshit