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Correction Lyrics
Crunk Ain't Dead - Remix
by
Duke Deuce
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Lyrics
Deuce Duke Project Pat Juicy J, let me tell you, man Lil Jon We too crunk, ho, we got you niggas scared, yo (Yeah) We too crunk, ho, we got you niggas scared, yo (Yeah) We too crunk, ho, we got you niggas scared, yo (Yeah) We too crunk, ho, we got you niggas scared, yo (Let's go) 'Bout to kick the door, they been sleepin' on big foe Nigga popped out for some Anna, so I robbed him for his camera I'm a gangster motherfucker and I'm standin' on that shit We just stepped in with them tools, let's go hammer in this bitch Yeah, trappin' from bag to bag, we can go mag for mag These niggas false, they flag, how you goin' rag to rag? Book bag got the big pump Like high school, you can get jumped Can't play me like a weak punk, ayy Bend it over, let me see somethin', ayy Bitch, I'm a monster Dumpin' niggas like a Tonka GD crazy like my uncle This not a Honda Hellcat loud like some thunder Fuck 12, fuck you honor (Ugh) All these lil' rappers think they tough I swear to God, I don't give two fucks Our nuts hangin', we gang bangin' We bet who first to fuck some' up (What the fuck?) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho (Break the law) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, (Break the law), crunk ain't dead, bitch (Break the law) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead (Break the law), crunk ain't dead, ho (Break the law) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead (Break the law), crunk ain't dead, ho Tennessee, get a key (Crunk ain't dead) GA, they don't play (Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho) Out in Texas, shit get reckless (Crunk ain't dead) To California, place your order (Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, bitch) To the boot, them niggas shoot (Crunk ain't dead) Florida, free Yak, ho (Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead) Arkansas (Crunk ain't dead) Shout out to Freddie (Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, bitch) The Carolinas (Crunk ain't dead) My nigga Vegas (Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho) Mississippi, keep it pimpin' (Crunk ain't dead) Alabama, bangin' hammers (Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, bitch) Illinois, Larry Hoover (Crunk ain't dead) Kentucky, they'll do you (Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho) To Washington (Crunk ain't dead) To Missouri (Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, bitch) Juicy J don't fuck with niggas, got my section full of women I'm gon' have to watch my step, I got all they pussies drippin' Niggas dissin' on the low, you know I can't let it go We got choppers like balloons, it's a party, let it blow I treat my lungs with gas (Yeah), 'Rari got paper tags (Ho) I've been on top for twenty-some summers, no wonder why niggas is mad (They mad) Big face don't tick-tock (Tick-tock) All this ice, but I'm makin' shit hot (Shit hot) 2K in a ziplock (Ziplock) Blue money make a Crip walk (Okay) I'm an OG, young niggas ball for free, who they gon' come for, me? (Crunk ain't dead, ho) You call it beef, it's just a crumb to me, I get it done in my sleep (Crunk ain't dead, ho) They pretendin' to be gangster, but we know they scared as fuck (Crunk ain't dead, ho) Let us in there with them pistols, we gon' tear the club up (Crunk ain't dead, ho) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho (Yeah) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, bitch (Shut the fuck up) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho (Shit ain't dead) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho (These niggas just scared) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho (We shoot 'em dead) Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, bitch Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, bitch Jewelry, 'tillery, nah, you ain't cool with me You niggas snitches and rats, you ain't foolin' me I want the mula-ry, fuck all the foolery Havin' these bands and these bitches ain't new to me Squeeze on this Drac', it smoke you like hookah-ry My drip the shit, the runs, the dook-ary Guaranteed shine in the dark so you can see Barrel, your man revolver cocked You can be quiet, lil' dude Your pockets look like on a diet, lil' dude Your bitch ate my dick at the Hyatt, lil' dude Now you wanna feud about the way that I got my rocks off We in the club and this shit 'bout to pop off Three of my niggas strapped, safety is on off Fool didn't know, 'bout to get his shit blown off This shit ain't sweet, this shit ain't candy Memphis niggas savage with no Randy We use violence, AK's handy Money piled up, they can't stand me Sippin' on brown, this ain't brandy Beat a bitch down, understand me City full of gas, hustle dandy Jack with no mask, rob your mammy Swipin' credit cards, we so scammy Crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, crunk ain't dead, ho
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