Ghetts – Crud

Crud Lyrics

Verse 1: Ghetts
(How the) How the fuck you get punched up with a gun tucked?
Lumped up without the sum
That sums up all of you dumb fucks
Dumdums without the gun
Shouldn’t beef above 30 (30), but man are too bloodthirsty (Thirsty)
Left the club drunk without the rum
Knife work, man’s cutting out early (Early)
You don’t know nothing ‘bout certy
Talk is cheap, anyone can outword me
I’ll push man to the max, no mercy
Ah, they keep talking Game of Thrones
But if you look at the stats, I’m Cersei
(That’s another) That’s another head gone
You could be right and alive
Or you could be dead wrong
We don’t hide out unless man’s in Croatia
We gon’ find out where you live and go latеr
Better mind that I’m as close as your nеighbour
Claw and a mask, man know Mr. Vega
No bullshit, we don’t panic, full clip in the ‘matic
Full clips, cinematic, caught him in the traffic
Old-school Giggs, Let Em Ave It (Hmm)
What’s that breeze? Just caught wind of the fassy
When his friend came back, he was a vegetable, sadly
Whatever, I’m letting off right now, is going on jezebel scatty
What, blud? There’s ring off the ting, and then there’s decibel happy
That’s two different things, the mandem are well splashy
Bang bang ricochet and ping, will somebody tell Ashley?
Gangland, every day and ting, then I moved out gladly
Hashtag get away from him, they want a shootout badly
Apart from mistakes, what have you made? (Money)
Couldn’t even make Kool-Aid (Kool-Aid)
My girlfriend’s preggers right now, it’s ironic how my birthday is her due date
If I’m out of line, there’s a Reason my Logic ain’t Cubase
My new ting talking about ex men, I don’t care about X-men unless they can mutate
I don’t care if it’s US or UK, I don’t care if it’s a duet or crusade
I don’t care if it’s you, them, and Luke Cage
If I slew them it’s Doomsday
Same person, straight merkage
That left there, I turned it
When I left there diverted
(How) How did he dead diversions?
Your version or my version?
The playback or live version?
They want Ghetts back, but the 2000 & Life version
Think you’re a big boy ‘cause you got a beard (Beard)
Bullets’ll make your face look weird
Ashanti the way man side burning
(Nah she’s still good food, though)
Chorus: Ghetts
True-true don dada, can’t tell man about bruise and batter
Can’t tell man about boom and scatter
Can’t tell man about shoot like Kaká
Cyaan tell man about “Who’s that rapper?”
Them kinda ting make human para’
Cyaan tell man about food and trapper
Been out here since FUBU and Kappa
Baby nine, man goo goo gaga
Sting man like Buju and Shabba
All man there is bodoof and backa
Greengate gangbanger, no suwoop or blue bandana
J Hus with a knife, that’s Juju and dagger (Ah, ah, ah, ah)

Verse 2: Giggs
Eat him up, beat so tasty
Giggs so rude, yeah, Giggs so facety
Pricks get bruised up, hit, no safety
Pricks get moved up, bitch, don’t make me
You, him, her, that bitch don’t rate me
You’ve been acting nervous lately
Dude got captain murdered baitly
Broad-day, burnt up, slapped up, weighty (Woo)
Yeah, slapped up, shaky (Shaky)
Wake him up, wakey wakey (Hmm)
Yeah, big bread, you so bakery (Haha)
Forgot my weed, so who’s gon’ lace me? (Haha)
Sticky, blue marijuana
Yeah, Lucy and Lana (Agh, agh), wanna chew the banana
And Lara (Yeah), sipping D’ussé with Carla
And man got the power liked I moved in with La La (Nah)
Hollow got man so nervous, sweet, man so Werther’s (Werther’s)
Sweeties, man sold sherberts
Yeah, man just rinsed that MAC straight, man flip burgers
Yeah, man got hit nine times, yeah, man got Curtis’d (Ahh)
Yeah, man just ‘lowe me (‘Lowe me)
Yeah, ‘bout it, ‘bout it, yeah, rowdy, rowdy
Yeah, nigga, don’t dial me stylist
No, no one don’t style me (Style me, yeah)
Nigga, just give me some space please, no one don’t crowd me (Jheeze)
Yeah, new innuendo (Yeah), parked at the station
Old-school used to Nintendo (Hmm), greazy, uno momento
Got that, shoot him again though (Hah), boost in the bando
Fuck that, boost in the Benzo (Boom)
Big cake for a hen do, but who’d be the hen though? (Haha)
And he’s got the high-grade, but who’s got the créme, though?
Yeah, skrrt in a Lamborghini, yeah skrrt it again, bro (Woo)
With that Dr. Dre and Eazy-E, turn up Lorenzo (Woo)
Honk honk, yeah, H on the honka
Saw me with Swizz Beatz, video, H and the monster
Yeah, H be the romper-stomper, yeah, take it and conquer (Conquer)
Ay, man can’t respect this yute, ‘cause mate, you’re a plonker (Haha)
Living, man’s just living this, man’s so stupid, man’s the silliest
Man’s just hideous, straight Darth Vader, H Darth Sidious (Agh)
Chorus: Ghetts
True-true don dada, can’t tell man about bruise and batter
Can’t tell man about boom and scatter
Can’t tell man about shoot like Kaká
Cyaan tell man about “Who’s that rapper?”
Them kinda ting make human para’
Cyaan tell man about food and trapper
Been out here since FUBU and Kappa
Baby nine, man goo goo gaga
Sting man like Buju and Shabba
All man there is bodoof and backa
Greengate gangbanger, no suwoop or blue bandana
J Hus with a knife, that’s Juju and dagger

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