调：Bb minor•
Verse 1
Bbm
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Gb
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I'm here with
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My definition of a criminal
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Always breaking the law,
cracking your jaw
laying in charge
packed my neighborhood
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Stacking cash in my wallet with dope
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Blashing with my tank, not causing a rash
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Put my definition of a criminal
rob lots from gay shots
Steady climbin' to the top,
give a fuck if you like it or not
Stackin' my knot,
burnin' rocks or smokin' on pots
The way I see it, better shoot first
to be the one that gets shot
Mr. Criminal,
the one that fools just hate on the lot
I stay original,
and keep a steady aim on my glock
Cause nowadays,
fools be comin' with some crooked -ass way
So now I think it's best
I let the fuckin' beast out the cage
Lethal injections,
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Gb
I serve motherfuckers for testing
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Diamond rings in action
Smashing out in his lips
Reminiscing how I rolled up
With a strat on my side
Clap my neighborhood
Rollin' through your fuckin' area,
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causin' disaster
The one that goes on high
speed chasin',
already got strike two
No more catchin' no casin',
cause I'm fly
Also slick, wicked, and sly
Straight motherfuckin' ridin',
somethin' I can't deny
And why would I try,
daily stay buzzin' and high
Feel like a motherfuckin' cloud,
how I float in the sky
And if I run out,
best believe without a doubt
I'll be creepin' on my tippy toes
when lights are out
All in your house,
And before I make my exit,
Introduce you to my stripe,
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Gb
leave your bank account on drought
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that's a lesson that I was taught
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Always breakin' the law,
wreckin' your jaw
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I'm the reason why you layin' in char
black line neighborhood
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Stack of cash in my wallet was dope
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Blashing with my tank not causing a rash
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My definition of a criminal
enemies get straight batted and bruised
Bring your trauma
to your cliques and your crews
Motherfuckers wanna treat
and they get beaten, abused
Physically used and cracked
like a bottle of booze
No respect, make potential victims
hit the deck
Motherfuckers start to tremble
when I bust out the tent
They know what's up,
criminals known for doing crimes
Catch me in the bad news
in the L .A. Times
We're at a quarter past nine
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Under investigation, time after time
Forgot a waistline,
the clip of my knife
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Always breakin' the law,
breakin' your jaw
not causin' a rash
causin' disaster
My definition of a criminal
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