🎵 I Luv Y’all // by KXNG Crooked

12 ContributorsI Luv Y’all Lyrics [Chorus] 2019, I had the hottest flow Fifty-two ghetto jams, word to Domino I don't wanna leave but I gotta go (I love y'all) Said I don't wanna leave but I gotta go In 2020, you should let the pill bottle go Blow up some chronic smoke, let the marijuana blow I don't wanna leave but I gotta go My Brother Dizz Made This I don't wanna leave but I gotta go [Verse 1] Lyricist of the year, lyrics are what they fear They shivering, I can hear 'em, I did it another year I'm switching another gear I'm bumping Em in the hood, your theory get nothing here I'm really a puppeteer pulling strings, you fuck with me Crooked swings, you fuck with me Bullet sing you a sad song (Da-da-da) You rappers never last long, blink, your ass gone All you talk about is crack, and you ain't got bars So your rap song remind me of bad reception on trap phones Don't let us catch you moonwalking through the jack zone We leave you butt-ass naked in your Balenciaga's Roll your ass up like an enchilada in Ensenada One blast look like I splashed Michelada against your Prada Thank for God it's Intriago, my shit is hotter Your foolery is confusing me, I think I should do the eulogy For the real nigga you used to be [Chorus] 2019, I had the hottest flow Fifty-two ghetto jams, word to domino I don't wanna leave but I gotta go (I love y'all) Said I don't wanna leave but I gotta go In 2020, you should let the pill bottle go Blow up some chronic smoke, let the marijuana blow I don't wanna leave but I gotta go I don't wanna leave but I gotta go [Verse 2] It's nothin' y'all can tell me I am a deity mixed with Pac, the Annunakiveli I'm the modern Akinyele, if lil Mama got the jelly Like Nas, I put my unborn God's Son across her belly Her Impala got Pirelli, she parking next to my old school Then she give me brains in my house, like I was home schooled My rap pace is systematic in this rat race My fan base is just organic, nigga, whole food's You get your streams from machines, shit is so different But machines ain't purchasing no tickets Concert ticket sales so low, ain't even no crickets The industry should be a Broadway play, 'cause it's so wicked People pretend to be a friend of me but really be a enemy My energy is "I ain't got time For the bad vibes you sending me", but I keep a MAC-10 with me Offending me, your next of kin'll be verifying your identity At the morgue, I stay out the way And don't bother nobody till it's time to come out and play That's the California way, how Deontay say it to this day Either EY or AY, y'all pray Reverse the beat, I gave you a verse a week I asked for the smoke and low level jokers were first to speak Not even worth the beef, in search of their worst defeat They just earning an associates in death, that's murder in the first degree (Uh) Shout out my homie Big Hutch, RIP KMG The Benz is AMG, the Monte Carlo's '83 Dippin' through Crenshaw I throw the West Coast up at the Nip mural I've been Supersonic since Baby-D (RIP) California is the mode I'm in My sober mind, I can see through the soul of men I can see what you holding in Everything between Joe and Em's between Joe and him But keep playing slick with my name Joey, I'm going in I only joke with friends It's Crooked My Brother Dizz Made This [Outro] Yeah On some Ready to Die, track number five shit My Brother Dizz Made This Anyway, let me salute Dizz Dizz, what up? Good looking, my G Everybody who rocked with this series you know what I'm saying New Wave Distribution, Hitmaker Services, Family Bvsiness I love all y'all man I wish I could say I see you next week TG behind the boards let's get the fuck out of here (I love y'all) I'm gone