Artist: Crooked I f/ K-Young Album: Apex Predator Song: Vegas on Biz Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Intro: Crooked I] Yeah, I'm feelin like Jay-Z on "Reasonable Doubt" My first debut album probably be my last, it's all good though Us COB boys, we out here man Niggaz say, "Are y'all some D-boys?" Nigga we D-boys, we weed boys, pill boys, syrup boys Whatever it take to get the money, knahmean? Ghostwrite you niggaz some lyrics Whatever y'all niggaz need man, we out here, hahaha Y'all muh'fuckers never seen niggaz like us We the real deal, we the real movement Hold on I gotta take this call, I'll holla at you in a minute [Crooked I] Niggaz pollyin top of the Cosmopolitan Olive in the dirty martini, we be the Parliament The C.O.B. conglomerate, get the camera and document The opposite of nonsense nigga, we buildin monuments Power moves, avoidin them shower shoes Cause - fuck a C-O-N, fuck a P.O. man You cowards lose, screw you in your county blues See our views is to get money like Howard Hughes through, limited liability corporations, based in Vegas for less tax and wasted wages Taste the Asian cuisine, we conversate over a plate of that Red 8, that's chopsticks and saki +Wynn+ like Steven the architect, believin in our connects With all respect, the hot bitches watch me Feel the mob vibe when the COB hits the lobby We not with the cocky, we confident Niggaz walkin across the +Casino+ floor like Sam Rothstein Stridin like Goliath and we ain't sweatin the small things We all kings, turn Vegas into New Orleans Get +Cash Money+ with +No Limit+, man we talk green Women eavesdrop, but sweety you need not You can join us, let me show you the way the G's rock Never touch your purse, your chair or your door handle Chivalry is dead for boys, I'm more man though Love it when your Prada dress hotter than Orlando Picture perfect portrait like you're posin for Van Gogh The crap table, we sippin on Black Label I'm loyal, I'd die for my brothers, I'm rap's Abel I'm torn from the cloth of the Gods, defeatin all of the odds You fake rap niggaz, y'all the façade Y'all the mirage, meanwhile I'm talkin to broads Like after this awesome massage we can talk a ménage Out in Vegas on business [Chorus: K-Young] + (Crooked I) We out in Vegas on business My briefcase full of big face Benji's We flyin by you on the freeway, we spendin, we spendin Like all this money burnin my pocket Ohhhhhhhhhh! (Conductin organized business, business) Like all this money burnin my pocket Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! (Conductin organized business, business) Out in Vegas on business [Crooked I] Yeah, let's hit the strip and smash Bright casino lights bouncin off the tinted glass Pull up to the Caesars Palace, pour Louis in the glass Bartender didn't ask - I'm a repeat customer It's written on my face, I'm a elite hustler If life is a bitch, I'ma just keep fuckin her Raised in the gutter and I don't miss my home Italian sports car, French cologne Of African descent, blackened by the sun Dark skin Capone, on capitalism A rapper eatin rappers so that's cannibalism Yeah you bastards should listen, I'm on a Hannibal mission A Carthaginian king burying gold Bringing the troops to the 7-0-2 area code Meet on the roof, of that Bellagio The helicopter's waitin on the helipad but yo Talkin code when we in front of that pilot though Keep our business on the quiet yo It's hoes in the desert for whoever try to know Aiyyo, land this muh'fucker on the Venetian They got a decent Louis store, I need some shit for this evening See they finally let the G's win, celebrate our achievements Pussy niggaz don't wanna see it they better leave then We here on business, we mixin it with pleasure We some pussy pirates, these bitches gettin the hidden treasure I bet your, boyfriend he can tell you gettin fresher Like, "Where did you get them shoes and that shit that's in your dresser?" Your Vegas trip with your girls was so regular 'til you ran across me and my predators, heh We caught you slippin and this ain't shit but a business trip When you tell him, use censorship We in Vegas on biz - conductin organized biz Haha, them COB boys [Chorus] w/ ad libs [Outro: Crooked I] 15 freeway to be exact Hahaha, bullshit