King Von – Crazy Story 2.0 ft Lil Durk

Crazy Story 2.0 (Lyrics):

Got a drop on this flexin’ ni*ga, he from Tennessee
I had a thot, she be with the sh*ts, she told me where he be
I say for sure, baby let me know, if you wanna eat
She like “Von, you already know, just put 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 smiling, she ain’t used to this cause she ain’t used to sh*t
I’m just laughing, could of been a pimp the way I move my lips
I be speeding, could of been a driver the way I push the whip
You a hoe, could of been a bi*ch the way you throw a fit
But f*ck 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 6, told her hit his phone
Meet her in the Wic, but he ain’t go
But he ain’t that slow, said meet him at the store

I’m like cool, let him front his move, do what he gon’ do
Cause this the plot, put him in a 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’s just how go
But check the score, if y’all lose 1 more, that’s 6 to 24
Let me focus, can’t be zoning out, he pulling up now
He double parked, he ain’t getting out, he in that push to start
That new Porsche, it’s built like a horse, colors like the fork
He got a ring, I guess he in divorce, wife probably a wh*re
Now she walk up, she struttin’ her stuff, this bi*ch thick as f*ck
Got in the truck, kissed him on his lip, he cuppin’ her butt
Now I sneak up, crouching like a Tiger, like Snoop off the Wire
The block on fire, so I take precaution, mask on, Michael Myers
I’m on his as*, he finna be mad, he gon’ beat her as*
But this what happened-
I got to the door, I thought I was cappin’
I was lackin’, cause there go the opps, yellin’ out “What’s crackin?”
I’m like, what? I’m like ni*ga, who? I was born to shoot
I got aim, I’m like Johnny Dang, when it comes to chains
So I ride, hit one in his arm, hit one in his thigh
This no lie, bi*ch it’s do or die, you say you gon’ slide?
You got some nerve, yo’ sh*t on the curb, boy we put in work
From 64th, and from 65th, we not from 63rd

I got a drop on a rappin’ ni*ga, I be from the ‘Raq
I’m like, cool, better not front yo’ move, or you become a pack
You see Von, you see 40 Glocks, see Booka, you see MAC
Yeah free Mack, gone for a double homi, foenem got yo’ back
But f*ck that, say you smoking who? Quickest way to die
Snatch who chain? Off who neck? Not mine
Ain’t no point in trying
They not out, plus the police hot, ain’t no point in sliding
They be talking from the internet, they don’t be outside
Hit the 6, call DaDa out, tell him ’bout a lick
We need tape, we need rope and foams, don’t forget the blicks
He like, “Cool, how that ni*ga look?” I pull up some flicks
He like, “Damn I think I know the ni*ga” He cool with his bi*ch
We at V-Live, but we went to Structure, but we played a lot
Got a goofy walking in and out, telling me his car
He in a Cat, bet, I’ma pay you half, just finesse
I’m 300, clips don’t come like that, 3 drums to his chest
Bi*ch, we lurking 63rd
Bi*ch, we lurking 63rd