Crooked I - Against All Odds Lyrics
It’s a million mother*****ers out there that support this raw shitIt’s slaughter house shitAll the time I’m thinkingHoping my true mother*****ers knowThat the house gang will never fall, never fall!Against all odds I’m in my studio getting blowThe rap niggas is all I saw!How I end up here?Got the blueprint for Biggie and OzzGhetto niggas go and pack them like the 50s and jazzIt’s against all odds, should have been a gift shop broadsNew niggas out here dressing like Nickie MinajSelling their soul to make it wealthyWearing women shirts on, and denim skirts onInstagram taking selfiesI celebrate the minute you dieAnd I’ll be here after the firework (5th of July!)Here lies a fictional writer, considered a liarAlways rapping about trapping,Or what an actress did on the wireThen they ask me why I’m rapping like a killer for higherSome niggas lock my homies in a trunk,And lead it on fire!You can hear my life pain in the way I spitThey don’t give a ***** if a DJ play my shitI like my shit, put it in the club!Hide my shit, I write my shit, real niggas recite my shitIn their labour they owe me, that ain’t no least agreementPlease believe it, I got you on your knees and screamingLooking like you’re in a navy with a coldCause their dick so far up your ass, hoe!You sneeze and see meThen they put you on a single with the same niggasOn … man, you’re just a bunch of lame niggas, yeah!You’re hot now, but holler with a shit assIf I don’t feel the music, I ain’t rapping with your ***** ass!And I bet I still won’t come around brokeRiffles spitting hollow tits right of this hundred round brokeWhen I’m barely six feet deep, coping internal shitAnd all makes sense, I’ll be the underground go nigga.Syllable king, lyrical drink, niggas be like typical meansI’m killing your dreams!Pop you in your bed dosingMy shooters come out the closet quick as Frank OceanGot you! I’m looking at these lyric system them allI’m taking you niggas to lyrical trainingYou ain’t in my leaningI’m giving a ***** if you think you’re a starThe bigger they are, the harder they fallI slip… when I set the Apocalypse off!Shots kill it off, your life will get offAnd it will be your own faultRemember you’re on roadLike a ***** with a dildo, you’re digging your own hoe!West Coast, my kingdom is there!I’ve been underground for yearsYou think I would careCause main stream…You’ll be counting with one handStill have a middle finger to spare***** ‘em! I ain’t hating, I’m just telling the truthWhen I see a real MC, I tell them, “salute”!Against all odds hoping my true mother*****ers knowThat the house king will never fallNever!Against all odds I’m in the studio and bowWatching rap niggas sell their soul!Against all odds!Yeah, yeah, niggaHouse game, house gameAlmighty house game!
