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DJ Skribble feat. Cru Lyrics
"What Cru Is Number One?"

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Yo how you feel about the Cru situation?
You either love to cross the board
Or cut throat with swords
Givin me the middle finger? Get the bird absurd
Screamin out Cru ain't a turd
Alotta word from you niggas but no verbs
Meaning no action, guess why'all just relaxing
Waiting for the time to strike
In the club catchin feelin, every time you hear,
[says it with Mighty Ha]
"Say night"
The tighest face I've ever seen, but I don't give a fuck
Don't make me let it out like a Dutch
Then watch all why'all niggas shift like a clutch
Ya man was loud now why'all sharing three bucks, down the middle
Buck fity, buck fity,
looking like Seal and shit, cause your real and shit
Packin steal as shit, guns real as shit,
large bills and shit, get the deals you prick
Yogi on the crusade, to-get paid
If two paired exist,
you'd have me on the crucifix like Jesus crucified
You did it to yourself Cru aside, fuck that,
what's that it's just toast like Crutons
We tasted in your tape deck when your Cru's on
With some buck kids named Pete and Tuson
Squril-nut and E-40, DLG Cru's gone

What crew's number one?
(The Rhytheme Blunt)
What crew's number one?
(The Rhytheme Blunt)
What crew's number one?
(The Rhytheme Blunt)
What crew's number one?
(The Rhytheme Blunt)

Yo, Yo
Nigga get your facts right or I gotta split you
Cause ain't a damn thing hit you unless the chair hit you
Look at-you, a clown, without make-up or
Front on me forver rest without a wake-up call
It's goin down, shit been went down
Since the day I learned to save every red cent clown
After all, I really want to, Mon-op-olize
Exclusive control over products and its surprise
So it ain't wise to rise, and put-up-a stand
Lets get together put these highs and put up grands
Income, no doubt, but I got news son
You win some, with no clout, you bound to loose some
So take heed wherever you make weed or make speed
Niggas out there don't care, they'll make Jake bleed
It's Cru son, retribu-tion for the past life
Fast life-I refer to, as my last life
But thugs push and shove, show no love
So I go back to the future and blow most slugs
Can't seem to get away from crime and gun wars
Make some cheddar, and niggas want to run yours
But fuck that, I buck back with precision
A small Bronx cat, with accurate vision
So you punk motherfuckers stay stuck in line
Pop-in shit, why'all outta why'all fuckin mind

[Now this ain't funny so don't you dare laugh]
(Skribble and Slynke up in that ass)
[Now this ain't funny so don't you dare laugh]
(Skribble and Slynke up in that ass)
[Now this ain't funny so don't you dare laugh]
[This ain't funny(Skribble and Slynke)]
[Don't you dare laugh(Skribble and Slynke)]{They overlap}
[Now this ain't funny so don't you dare laugh]
(Skribble and Slynke up in that)
(IS HE IS HE)