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"Crime" lyrics by CHARLIE ROW CAMPO
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[feat. Baby Jokes, Mr. Chino Grande, Jasper Loco, Bigg Bandit]

[Baby Jokes:]
Fuck a phony
You ain't got shit on me
I'm a a solo gangbanger from the 2-1-3
Where You been at
I've been bustin at a Caddilacs
Pillin caps back
Smoking fat glass
In the county & you know how to smack bak
It's a 1 time do or die throwing up that east side
So what you say lil homie I'm insane
Insane Wyno's click and I'm down to play
You can't fade fool, you can't even create
Just stay in 1 place while you value with the game
I'm flippin, I'm trippin, I'm straight east dippin
On Whittier Boulevard still straight pissin
Can't handle, it's the life full of skandles
Many men babble, just like weed travel
Baby Jokes from that 2-1-3 baby, Charlie Row Baby

All about C-R-I-M-E
Money of a murder hearda in the H-Double O-O-D
With all the lil gee's sayin
You don't wana fuck with us
Say you don't wana fuck with us
Duck low when the gun go bust
Enemies don't even fuck with us

[Chino Grande:]
It's that twisted lifestyle
That'll make you go buck wild
Ese fucking with the row is like doggy style
Put your ass in a coma
Bitch you a throwda
This was the strap that keeps me alive in my holster
Supposta, keep your mouth on hush
I toss the varr in the air before I smash them cuffs
See I begin in the Whittier cause my revolver keeps spinning
It's spinning round& I'm dumping
4 fingers & I'm jumpin
I'll knock that ass out rite before I pass out
Hit you like a pipe with no teeth in them white clouds
Night train got me insane in chi palm
Find your homies in a hole just like sadam
You want some better bring the heat
I got your head & my skull from across the street
You want some better bring the heat
I got your head & my skull from across the street


It's that dos uno fukin tres
Cause I'm strapped with the gat in the teflon vest
Free my bullets penetrate your muthafukin flesh
To the los it's the coast of the wicked west
Real fools with the hood straight across the chest
Enemies I hope you levas rest in piss
Hit the split as I dip in the midnight mist
What's the click hit the sprouse when were doin it
Doin that that fools strapped with the nueve gat
On the east of the streets where you know where it's at
Fake fools get a muthafukin click clack
That's a big fact, put you on your straight back
Southern California where the criminals with los gats
Flossin hood tats, ese with that chrome strap
You wana run up get your muthafukin face cracked
Cause it money over murder puto & it's muthafukin like that


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