Criminal Ways by Ese Brown (Clika One) Lyrics
[Bad Boy {*high pitch*}]
In your motherfuckin' ass
Yeeah!
Oooh
This is some motherfuckin'
Gangsta shit
[Brown]
(Verse 1)
Welcome to the Eastside
With .40's and Glocks
Homies are riders nonstop
Any open fire, to drop block
Keep fuckin' with hot shots
Who keep a stash up in they box
They love to get it off
They pull it out for the block
Whether it's gang bangin' or not
Hop in the ride, makin' it hop
Taking your bitch's top off, makin' her hot
Haters'll flop
For tryin' to snitch us out to the cops
They on the phone now (Tryin' to give up a drug spot)
Man, you bitches
Never change, droppin' dimes, spillin' the game
Won't be satisified til all my homies are locked in a cage
But fuck that
We a cocked with a guage
Bullet shots with a rage
Keep the pieces on razor blades, you bitch made
Bet you afraid to get your house all sprayed
You know it's
Retaliation within a couple of days
Them criminal ways
Catchin' cases in violent days
It pays to pay
Pay your lawyers and have a nice day
Chorus: Brown
It's our criminal ways
Catchin' cases from paper chases
It's our criminal ways
Gats, brass knuckles and razor blades (And)
I'm cool with eses who got A.K.'s in cases
Cut off Dickies and phat laces
Repeat Chorus
(Verse 2)
This is for my gang bang
Dippin' they cigarettes in the dank glass
Homies liftin' and lettin' they pants sag
Gats in their hand bags
Bitches with bandanas and gang tats
Stuff in they pants
Help us some way if they man ask
With the homies with the continental kids in the back
Puffin' them sacks
Poppin' them caps
Hop in Regals and Cadaliacs
Haters get mad
We sent them straight to they backs
And tell 'em
Motherfucker, yeah, what's up with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
You gangstas get mad
Because of the shit they never had
Homies got no dads, and no cash
Homies get hot fast
Short fuse, belongs to the homies, know what they doin'
When they
Blasted 'em up, a fuckin' bullet right through 'em
This shit ain't new to 'em
Chicanos bangin' the streets
They handle the beef
With heaters, homies, bangers and P's
They playing for keeps
Them white sheets that cut with the streets
In the game
All my homies learnin' them criminal ways
Repeat Chorus Twice
[Bad Boy {*high pitch*}]
Oh, yes indeed
That's some motherfuckin' gangsta shit
Oooh
Yeah
Oooh
I can deal with this
This motherfucker's brought to you in part by
Bad Boy
On the beat
Ese Brown
You know
Gangsta
In your motherfuckin' ass
Yeeah!
Oooh
This is some motherfuckin'
Gangsta shit
[Brown]
(Verse 1)
Welcome to the Eastside
With .40's and Glocks
Homies are riders nonstop
Any open fire, to drop block
Keep fuckin' with hot shots
Who keep a stash up in they box
They love to get it off
They pull it out for the block
Whether it's gang bangin' or not
Hop in the ride, makin' it hop
Taking your bitch's top off, makin' her hot
Haters'll flop
For tryin' to snitch us out to the cops
They on the phone now (Tryin' to give up a drug spot)
Man, you bitches
Never change, droppin' dimes, spillin' the game
Won't be satisified til all my homies are locked in a cage
But fuck that
We a cocked with a guage
Bullet shots with a rage
Keep the pieces on razor blades, you bitch made
Bet you afraid to get your house all sprayed
You know it's
Retaliation within a couple of days
Them criminal ways
Catchin' cases in violent days
It pays to pay
Pay your lawyers and have a nice day
Chorus: Brown
It's our criminal ways
Catchin' cases from paper chases
It's our criminal ways
Gats, brass knuckles and razor blades (And)
I'm cool with eses who got A.K.'s in cases
Cut off Dickies and phat laces
Repeat Chorus
(Verse 2)
This is for my gang bang
Dippin' they cigarettes in the dank glass
Homies liftin' and lettin' they pants sag
Gats in their hand bags
Bitches with bandanas and gang tats
Stuff in they pants
Help us some way if they man ask
With the homies with the continental kids in the back
Puffin' them sacks
Poppin' them caps
Hop in Regals and Cadaliacs
Haters get mad
We sent them straight to they backs
And tell 'em
Motherfucker, yeah, what's up with that (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
You gangstas get mad
Because of the shit they never had
Homies got no dads, and no cash
Homies get hot fast
Short fuse, belongs to the homies, know what they doin'
When they
Blasted 'em up, a fuckin' bullet right through 'em
This shit ain't new to 'em
Chicanos bangin' the streets
They handle the beef
With heaters, homies, bangers and P's
They playing for keeps
Them white sheets that cut with the streets
In the game
All my homies learnin' them criminal ways
Repeat Chorus Twice
[Bad Boy {*high pitch*}]
Oh, yes indeed
That's some motherfuckin' gangsta shit
Oooh
Yeah
Oooh
I can deal with this
This motherfucker's brought to you in part by
Bad Boy
On the beat
Ese Brown
You know
Gangsta