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Crooked I - Tell Them MF's We Made It Lyrics



Crooked I - Tell Them MF's We Made It Lyrics




Now what the hell should I care about, nothing
I'm Paramount, f*ck it bring the Maclaren 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 the cherry blouse
No pants derriere is out
I call it honeymoon without the marriage vows
I f*ck with some street killers and D dealers
We out to market everything, even 3 wheelers
I f*ck with some blunt smokers and E-pillers
You don't like us, so what, the freaks feel us
Onion booty and some yoga pants
She got that 'won't you come bend me over stance
I got paper and she over stamps
I got a message for the haters man

[Chorus]
Tell them muhf*ckas we made it
(x4)
Live good, still hood
Grind hard like a real nigga should
1hunnid, stay true
Let 'em know, tell them muhf*ckas we made it

Yeah, tell them muhf*ckas we made it
Johnny Blue, tell them muhf*ckas we faded
Middle finger you and them mothaf*ckas who hate it
Still sleeping on us, leave them suckas sedated
By the time they wake up, probably flying to Jamaica
On my birthday gettin' my cake up
You dudes Hollywood, say what?
I call you virtual sex, you fake f*cks
I don't think you want a problem
I'm Andy Warhol and ??? 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'
Her accent is like Lois Griffin
The Lord's prayer over roasted chicken
Some red wine, let's toast to livin'

[Chorus]

Breaking news, we making moves
You new niggas listen, pay your dues
Don't be a dive artist, or you play to lose
Kick you while you 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 ho put on her f*ck dress
Give me brains for fame, that's success
The best revenge and this is murder now
You talk behind my back and I ain't even turn around
Ants to a giant, I ain't even heard a sound
Attitude up, I ain't finna turn it down
VH1 bitch in a black Carerra
Gettin' Viacom pussy in this ratchet era
F*ck her weave up and her black mascara
Then pass by my haters blowin' Jack Herera

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Now what the hell should I care about, nothing
I'm Paramount, f*ck it bring the Maclaren 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 the cherry blouse
No pants derriere is out
I call it honeymoon without the marriage vows
I f*ck with some street killers and D dealers
We out to market everything, even 3 wheelers
I f*ck with some blunt smokers and E-pillers
You don't like us, so what, the freaks feel us
Onion booty and some yoga pants
She got that 'won't you come bend me over stance
I got paper and she over stamps
I got a message for the haters man

[Chorus]
Tell them muhf*ckas we made it
(x4)
Live good, still hood
Grind hard like a real nigga should
1hunnid, stay true
Let 'em know, tell them muhf*ckas we made it

Yeah, tell them muhf*ckas we made it
Johnny Blue, tell them muhf*ckas we faded
Middle finger you and them mothaf*ckas who hate it
Still sleeping on us, leave them suckas sedated
By the time they wake up, probably flying to Jamaica
On my birthday gettin' my cake up
You dudes Hollywood, say what?
I call you virtual sex, you fake f*cks
I don't think you want a problem
I'm Andy Warhol and ??? 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'
Her accent is like Lois Griffin
The Lord's prayer over roasted chicken
Some red wine, let's toast to livin'

[Chorus]

Breaking news, we making moves
You new niggas listen, pay your dues
Don't be a dive artist, or you play to lose
Kick you while you 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 ho put on her f*ck dress
Give me brains for fame, that's success
The best revenge and this is murder now
You talk behind my back and I ain't even turn around
Ants to a giant, I ain't even heard a sound
Attitude up, I ain't finna turn it down
VH1 bitch in a black Carerra
Gettin' Viacom pussy in this ratchet era
F*ck her weave up and her black mascara
Then pass by my haters blowin' Jack Herera

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: CHRISTIAN WORSOE, DOMINICK WICKLIFFE, JONAS VESTERGAARD, RUNE RASK
Copyright: Lyrics © The Administration MP, Inc., THE ADMINISTRATION MP INC

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