In this gripping narrative, King Von delves into a tale of betrayal and street justice that underscores the harsh realities of gang life. The song chronicles a sequence of events where trust is broken, leading to violent repercussions. Von details an encounter with deception when a woman he trusts sets him up for an ambush, which spirals into a series of retaliatory acts. This portrayal not only reflects personal experiences but also serves as a cautionary tale about loyalty and survival within the volatile environments often associated with urban gang conflicts. Through vivid storytelling, King Von captures the intensity and unpredictability of street life, highlighting both the physical and emotional toll it takes.
Crazy Story, Pt. 3
Lyrics
Oh, yeah, I'm finna make a banger with this
Huh, what?
(DJ on the beat so it's a banger)
Von
Now here it go, I just made it home
Missed calls on my phone
See, I been gone
Was tryna hit a lick but that's shit just went wrong
I got a thot, she right off the block
Her crib be the spot and we got Glocks
Tucked all in the shit, don't come in less you knock
But this bitch grimey
Told her 'bout this nigga
Help me set 'em up and she was wit it
She just want some shoes
And she ain't give no fuck
So we do that, I was at his neck
Creepin' from the back
But saw the opps and had to let 'em have it
How fucked up is that? But where that bitch?
She ain't called me yet
We did that at six and who got hit?
I know someone, check 'cause King Von, he don't miss
Now two weeks pass
I'm back on my grind
I can't waste no time, the opps been quiet
They be whoopin' tho
But them niggas not slidin' and I been high
I can't even lie that thot been on my mind
Why she ain't called?
I ain't seen her ass, I hope that she alright
Now it's midnight I'm hitting some blocks
Just me and my Glock, came to a stop
I'm at a red light, I usually don't stop
My phone keep ringing
Just a hoe of course, this bitch probably bored
I press ignore
I ain't got no time
A whore gon' be a whore
Now I get that feeling
Something ain't right
I look to my right
And I'm like, damn
There go that flexin' nigga
He wavin' his pipe
He get to dumpin'
Bullets get to comin'
My heart get to thumbin'
I feel something, my left shoulder hot
Blood just get to gushing
I'm like shit, ain't this 'bout a bitch
And he with that bitch
I got a glimpse, she got them big lips
That's made for suckin' dick
Now it make sense
That hoe set me up
That lil' dirty slut, the double cross
Tryna get me caught
Like I'm Randy Moss
Ah shit, I just dropped my gun
Plus I got one arm, I'm tryna drive
I can't shoot back now
This man on my ass, I almost crashed
But I got the wheel, he tryna kill for real
But there go twelve
He bust a quick right
And I just bust a left
Ah, shit
What the fuck, gang, you good?
Damn, my shoulder
You know this bitch be fuckin' with me, gang
Damn, man, finish tellin' me about that shit that was crackin'
Off last week with them niggas and shit
Aw, yeah, aw, yeah, look
Now this what happened
A week later my arm in a sling
I been sippin' lean, pure codeine
I don't feel a thing
My hoe say I'm mean
I need a blunt, stuff that bitch wit Runtz
Boy, I'm on a hunt, and ain't no breakfast
But I'm a boxer nigga, like some Capt'n Crunch
I got a tip that thot bitch be on 75th
Right off Cottage
With her best friend, gettin' her hair did
I'm like cool, finna make my move
Post up, what I do
This bitch a fool for tryna play me out
Like that shit was cool
Now it's like two
Catch her walking out
Her new hairstyle blue and she look cute
But that mean ain't shit to me
I crept up then I boomed
And that was that
Now I'm running back
I stop in my tracks, there go that Porsche
How crazy is that boy, I'm on his ass
The first blast, it shatter his glass
Damn, this nigga fast, he hit the gas
I'm still shooting at him but I'm too far back
Damn I'm hype, let me tuck this pipe
Get up out of sight 'cause I see lights
And them bitches bright
Can't go to jail for life, so I take flight
Made it to the hood, everything went good
Knock on wood, flame me up a 'Wood
Tooka smellin' good, looked at my phone
Got a text from Herb, he say, "Whats's the word?"
I say, shit, I'm just coolin' bitch, I'm not from 63rd
Bitch, we're not from 63rd
Stretch Gang put in work
Writer(s): Darrel Jackson, Dayvon Bennett
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
What is the Meaning of Crazy Story, Pt. 3
?
End of content
That's all we got for #