Lyrics Language: Scots Song writer/composer(s): Loren Lunnon, Sean Jacobs
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Sheek LouchCrazzy Lyrics:
I'ma make the hits, y'all book the shows
Aiyyo, bling bling, what's that? Sheek Louch is back
Ride, ride, you got my back? Where the heaters at?
12 gauge, tech nines, yo, where the hit 'em at?
D block, we got 'em going crazzy, crazzy
Aiyyo, who's that looking through my window
Blow, y'all motherfuckers know my style
Any nigga looking and I'm Daffy Ducking his ass
Beat upside down, straight bucking his ass
Louie bat to his head, roll a truck in his ass
Old man style, bust a bottle, cut 'em wit glass
Ywah, it can be who? Sheek, the MC
Spit hard, the MC, in the yard, the MC
I eat dictionaries and spit out little pieces of paper
That's why my vocabulary sick
Use big words like, suck-my-dick
You don't wanna play Louch without entering cheats
I'm like Eddie Kane nigga from the Five Heart Beats
Coke thicker than ya motherfucking cream of wheats
Paper too small nowadays, I write on sheets
And I done made so many hits, I'm about to cop cleats
Aiyyo, bling bling, what's that? Sheek Louch is back
Ride, ride, you got my back? Where the heaters at?
12 gauge, tech nines, yo, where the hit 'em at?
D block, we got 'em going crazzy, crazzy
Without baking soda, still keep the arm and hammer
D block flag waving on the rangest tanner
In our jungle, all gorillas keep a banana
Spraying dumb, yo heat is old as nana
Listen, if you wit us no time for bailing
Sheek Louch, D-block, stop Rose like Jalen
No bull, nickel plate catch me pailing
Scoop big niggaz, put 'em through half the sailing
Yeah, I don't care if I sell or not
The boy is hot, that be wit a oven glove
Fuck mainstream, keep me wit gangsta love
Street shit, Sheek shit, bring life to tug
Ha ha, I'm like new but I been here though
Just low, I ain't drop and y'all wanting a show
Book it, let the hood in and let me rock
Bring the hardest niggaz from ya block, what up
Aiyyo, bling bling, what's that? Sheek Louch is back
Ride, ride, you got my back? Where the heaters at?
12 gauge, tech nines, yo, where the hit 'em at?
D block, we got 'em going crazzy, crazzy
I got [unverified] signs, fuck dog, beware the owner
Step out, shopping boxes, Lemon Corona
Scratching my ass, hoping that the kids trespass
One of 'em Vietnam niggaz, my stitch wit hair triggers
I'm hot like, 'bout to start breaking you up
I feel the earth's a little baller, niggaz shaking me up
I'm 'bout to dig inside ya pockets, start caking me up
I get coke before, I ever be outside wit a cup
And yo what, that's right, the God sick wit it
Maybe before but right now the kid Louch forget it
I'm the best out right now, spread the news
I could write a book, Louch the new Langston Hughes
Yellow Playboy nigga, stin Pepe Lepues
I don't just clap, Sheek'll make the 4 go off
Espionage and all that, like [unverified]
Hit the block and make the O's go off, ow
The lyrics on the most recent version are sanctioned by the composer, or owner of the rights to the lyrics, however, there may be lyrics that are more complete on the prior version(s) that have been submitted by a contributor to mp3lyrics.org
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