Crazy Story lyrics - King Von

And I'ma let that MAC fly just like my nigga Durk (Bow)
I'ma let this MAC float, this one, hold on
I said I'ma let that-
Alright, come on
(Von)
Alright
(Von)

Got a drop on this flexin' nigga, he from Tennessee
I had a thot, she be with the shit, she told me where he be
I said for sure, baby let me know if you wanna eat
She like Von, "You already know, just put your girl on fleek."
I'm like, "Cool, I can do that, boo, what, you want some shoes?"
"Jimmy Choo? With a handbag, too? Red or baby-blue?"
She get to smilin', she ain't used to this 'cause she ain't used to shit
I'm just laughin', coulda been a pimp the way I move my lips
I be speedin', coulda been a driver the way I push the whip
You a ho, coulda been a bitch the way you throw a fit
But fuck that, right back to the script 'cause this a major lick
He got bricks, plus his neck is icy and it match his wrist
Now it's like six, told her hit his phone, meet her in The Wic
But he ain't go, but he ain't that slow, say meet him at the store
I'm like cool, let him front his move, do what he gon' do
'Cause this the plot, put 'em in the pot, let it cook like stew
I grab my Glock, it been through a lot, but it still shoot like new
We at the top, yeah we lost a lot, but that just how it go
But check the score, if y'all lose one more, that's 6-24
Let me focus, can't be zoning out, he pullin' up now
He double park, he ain't getting out, he in that push to start
That new Porsche, it's built like a horse, colors like the fourth
He got a ring, I guess he ain't divorce, wife probably a whore
Now she walk up, she struttin' her stuff, this bitch thick as fuck
Got in the truck, kissed him on his lip, he cuffin' her butt
Now I sneak up crouching like a tiger, like Snoop off The Wire
Block on fire, so I take precaution, mask on, Michael Myers
I'm on his ass, he finna be mad, he gon' beat her ass
But this what happen, I got to the door, I thought I was cappin'
I was lacking, 'cause there go the opps, yellin' out, "What's crackin'?"
I'm like, "What?" I'm like, "Nigga who?" I was born to shoot
I got aim, I'm like Johnny Dang when it comes to chains
So I rise, hit one in his arm, hit one in his thigh, this no lie
Bitch it's do-or-die, you said you gon' slide
You got some nerve, your shit on the curb, boy we put in work
From 64th, and from 65th, we not from 63rd

Bitch we not from 63rd
This the game, put in work

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