Yo.. yo, yo, yo, yo
(Crime Story, the title, I gotta get it however, whenever)
All my niggas know (whoever, wherever) They live the streets
Never go down! Never go down!
(Follow me up one time like my man Poppy Da, you know?)
I'm wit you son! I'm wit you!
Time for some action, it was June first, me and my Co' we ran up
on a check-casher on Tonka's and raw, I told her
"Tell it on that, funny with the money cuz the money ain't yours
We got twenty hostages, I'm ready to die for this!"
Squig said, "She movin too slow, I'm ready to pop this bitch!"
Then he shot the bitch, and we had to move quick
Grab the cash money and foodstamps and jetted towards the whip
Jump started the vehicle, drove a block or two
Looked in the rearview, noticed the boys in blue
Then I bust a u-turn, you could smell the rubber burn
I dusted 'em like a wet bag of sherms (AHHH!)
Went Uptown, slowed down and made a left at the light
Started flowin, unboared, then she lept (STOP! STOP! STOP!)
Up in front of 27th warrant, we ran up in the buildin
Bid with two duffle bags but at least I had it big (We came off!)
Ran up in the crib, shut the door, the sweat started pourin
That's when I heard the sirens roarin
(Yo, f**k the sirens, son we came off, we blastin
Any nigga come in here we comin through, ah like...)
We do the same shit in my projects
Loungin, listenin to Flex, just thinkin of crime
In the hard times, niggas I know sell dimes
Some used to snort dimes and do robberies
"Come out with your hands up! We have you surrounded!"
Heard it over boom-horn, one officer shouted
I said, "This is it son, is you 'bout it? See you in Hell!"
Looked my man in the eyes, we started bustin off shells
Goin all out, backin the ATF down, 52 days, they Nicorette style
They got the sharpshooters out, on the project roof
It's 12 o'clock noon, the old lady yelled, "Don't shoot!"
Then I heard a shot, my heart stopped
Then my man dropped, I f**ked with the glock
(Yo, what the f**k?) And got timed by four cops
They cuffed me up, f**ked me up, brought me to the precinct
Ain't feedin me all weekend, all I was doin was thinkin
I blew trial (Damn!) and they threw the book at me and I'm still readin
You could hear the stories over and over in the hood
Got to live to regret, if I could take it back I would
We planned to be like this, we both dead
I hung it up cuz I couldn't hold my head
(Yo, these streets is terrible son!)
We do the same shit in my projects
Loungin, listenin to Flex, just thinkin of crime
In the hard times, niggas I know sell dimes
Some used to snort dimes and do stick-ups dunn!
For real, without that we all be starvin
Crime, without that we all be starvin
