Lyrics Language: English Song writer/composer(s): J Graham, C Santiago
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Cru"Fresh, Wild and Bold" Lyrics:
Aiy yo I'm fresh
Why do you say that yo 'cause I run up in your girl then I puff a stoge
How fresh? So fresh that I'm crisp and clean
And I stick to your ribs like Christ to Al Green
I rocks rough and stuff, nah, that ain't my line
Make the bitches move the ass and niggas sip the wine
So act like, act like, act like it reversal
How come one in seven New York is straight murder
Smoke a million and a half blunts on the roof
And every other winter vests are bulletproof, that truth
Had Boris all day, Gladys all night
Once I get it to the other side things will be aight, that's right
Get the munchies after the hemp
Got to Red Lobster get the crabs and shrimps
The E and J with the ginger ale never fail
Bacardi while I flips ghetto tales
Take a sick clique kid everywhere that I go
Make appearances on Ricki Lake and Allado
You know who we are so, put you funky niggas to a test
Times up motha uh yo it's the Rhythm Blunt
Yo its like extra P 'cause I'm looking at the front
But if you move it all, kid your gonna fall
You'll be Ready to Die, rest in peace Biggie Smalls, baby baby
Matter fact, I'm sick of talking about to wreck your body
From L.A. to New York and back to L.A.
I'm out like O.J. yet I'm F R E S H
Uck, Cru don't give an uck
Fresh, Wild and Bold don't give an uck
An uck, an uck, an uck
Give an uck, Cru don't give uck
Fresh, Wild and Bold don't give an uck
An uck, an uck, an uck
Aiy yo I'm wack, what makes you say that Shak
'Cause I'd rather stick niggas then read off this pad
How wild? So wild, I run up on niggas blocks
Sell some dummy rocks and take pot shots at cops
Chadeeo, yes the murderous assassin, comes through crashin'
Make sure ya seat belts fastin'
Blastin' for the dome piece with the chrome piece
Niggas is runnin' from my site 'cause I'm known beast
They flood red from they own blood shed
Verbal lead to the head, they dread shootin' the dutch dead
So get smoked like 99 in Maxwell, or you get
Smoked and brooked down clown, that's what the fax tell
And if you feel bigger, think you see a real nigga
I run up with my real gun up and pull the steel trigga
And go find a friend, sip up on a Heineken
And let them know how the title King is all mine again
If he start to fake Jacks, he better make tracks
'Cause there's no tape backs, when I begin to backs
No doubt I'm goin' for mine, and mine is all that matters
What day is it dog, you don't know, you better scatter
Run and ask him what's the frequency, count it, I tell ya
Verbal wildness, societies menace
The one Chadeeo with the tauntin' lyrics
And I shall keep comin' back like hauntin' spirits
Give an uck, Cru don't give uck
Fresh, Wild and Bold don't give an uck
An uck, an uck, an uck
Give an uck, Cru don't give uck
Fresh, Wild and Bold don't give an uck
An uck, an uck, an uck
Well I'm bold, what makes ya say that Ha?
'Cause I break it to you little, take a drink at the bar
How bold?
Lyrics: "Fresh, Wild and Bold", Cru [end]
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