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lirik lagu cooky crack – benraps

{verse 1}
well i’m eazy*e, i got b*tches galore
you may have a lot of b*tches but i got much more
wit’ my super*duper group coming out the chute
eazy*e, m*th*f*ckas cold knockin’ the boots
’cause i’m a hip hop thugster, i used to be a mugster
if you heard you think i own a drugstore
gettin’ stupid because i know how
and if a sucka talks sh*t, i give him a
8 ball sippin’, the b*tches are flippin’
slow down, i hit a dip an’, continue my trippin’
hittin’ my switches, collect from my b*tches
the money that i make so i could add to my riches
fill my stash box and start rubbing my gat
feelin’ good as h*ll because my pockets are fat
a hardcore villian cold roaming the streets
and wit’ a homiе like dre just supplyin’ the bеats

{chorus}
because i’m a gansta havin’ fun
never leave the pad without packing a gun
hittin’ hard as f*ck, i make you ask “what was it?”
boy you shoulda known by now, eazy duz it

{verse 2}
rollin’ through the hood, cold tearin’ sh*t up
stick my head out the window and i say what’s up
to the *** on the corner cold bumpin’ the box
but you know that’s a alibi for slangin’ the rocks
a dice game starts i said “what the f*ck”
so i put my sh*t in park and had to try my luck
hard to roll wit’ my b*tch jockin’ 24*7
rolled them m*th*f*ckers, ate ’em up, hit 11
got another point, i made it ten a fo’
was takin’ *** money and was itching for mo’
laughin’ in their faces, said “y’all makin’ me rich”
’til one punk got jealous, cold slapped my b*tch
he pulled out his gat, i knew he wouldn’t last
so i said to myself, “homeboy, you better think fast!”
he shot, then i shot
as you can see, i cold smoked his ass
{chorus}
because i’m a gansta havin’ fun
never leave the pad without packin’ a gun
hittin’ hard as f*ck, i make you ask “what was it?”
boy you shoulda known by now, eazy duz it
m*th*f*ckin’ eazy duz it

{verse 3}
now i’m a break it down just to tell a little story
straight out the box, from the gangsta category
about a sucker, a sucker m*th*f*cka
he’s addicted, he’s a smoker, but in compton called a clucker
he used to have a house car and golden rings
but the cooky cooky crack took all those things
he must have been starvin’ ’cause he broke in my house
caught the *** on the street and straight took his ass out
now i wanted for a murder that i had to commit
yeah, i went to jail, but that wasn’t sh*t
got to the station ’bout a quarter of nine
called my b*tch to get me out ’cause i was down for mine
the b*tch was a trip, cold hung up the phone
now my only phone call was in the gankin’ zone
all the sh*t i did for her, like keepin’ her rich
i swear when i get out i’m gonna k!ll the b*tch
well by now you can guess that it was just my luck
the bailiff of the station was the neighborhood cluck
i looked him straight in the eye, and said “what’s up?”
and said “let’s make a deal, you know i’ll do you up”
now i’m back on the streets and my records are clean
i creeped on my b*tch wit’ my uzi machine
went to the house and kicked down the do’
unloaded like h*ll, cold smoked the hoe
{chorus}
because i’m a gansta havin’ fun
never leave the pad without packin’ a gun
hittin’ hard as f*ck, i make you ask what was it
boy you shoulda known by now, eazy duz it
from around the way, born in ’73
harcore b*boy named eazy*e
it’s ’88 now, ’73’s obsolete
a *** wit’ a serious ass attitude and 100% street
and if y’all wanna hear some more
in one way or the other, i’m a bad brotha
word to the m*th*f*cka

{verse 4}
you better watch out you better not cry
santa claus is coming to town~
with me eazy*e

{epilogue}
don’t worry its just instrumentals
don’t worry bout that go!

- benraps

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