@[Diderik:33655] "Your a holiday!" Was a popular term used in the 50s/60s to compliment someone on their all around. For example, not only are they beautiful, but they are fun and kind too ... just an all around "holiday".
I think your first comment is closer to being accurate. The singer/song writers state "Millions of eyes can see, yet why am i so blind!? When the someone else is me, its unkind its unkind". I believe hes referring to the girl toying with him and using him. He wants something deeper with her, thats why he allows himself to be as a puppet (even though for her fun and games) as long as it makes her happy. But he knows deep down that she doesnt really want to be serious with him and thats what makes him.
Crunk Incorporated. We ain't taking nuttin this year, We comin' straight for ya.
Talkin' bout gettin' crunk nigga. Fuck that shit you talkin' nigga.
When I see yo ass nigga, this how shit gon pop off.
This how shit goin' go down from here on out nigga.
So we gotta tell y'all niggas to wake the fuck up. Cyco Black let em know....
Fuck that shit that you talkin'
Fuck that nonsense nigga I'm outside
You gotta problem wit my clique I'm outside
I got my gun in my motherfuckin' ride
We bussin' heads so you bitches better hide
Crunk to the motherfuckin' I.N.C.
Mike, Gray, Black, and Killa behind me.
Park in the street wit Crunk and A.D.
So I dare that nigga to come and try me.
Dare that nigga to walk my street.
Watch me cock it back and let go.
Comin' up popular, he's a fuck nigga I'm a let his ass know
He ain't nothin' but a ho.
Fuck yo words, yo words don't mean shit.
All that talkin' get yo ass hit.
Beat yo bitch wit a baseball bat a-rata-tat-tat on yo ass real quick.
This real shit and I don't play games.
ATL be my domain.
Creep yo cast, and beat yo ass so
Fuck that shit you talkin' mayne.
Yeah, bitch fuck that shit that you talkin'.
Go get yo clique and start walkin'.
My crew too thick so get off me to fuck wit you I got whodi.
Peepin' the scene so don't test me, ho don't try me I stay ready,
Yo shirt goin' be so damn heavy, I snipe yo ass like I'm Wesley.
Got a problem I solve so ho let's take it outside.
Revolver tucked in my pocket I'm feelin' what in my ride.
Bussin' heads is my specialty, One like me, you will never see,
Ho you know I'm wit M.O.B. Wanna buck? It's whatever G.
Keep on poppin I'm a show you just how deep we are.
Y'all niggas thank y'all buck?
We'll have y'all seein' stars.
You'll think you're touchin' Mars, cause we some must asses.
A second blastin' anywhere where there be shit talkin'. So do not get smart
Bitch, cause here we runnin' thangs,
Ain't got no time for lames,
Just bout that money mayne.
Just watch me spray some flames.
Get up, release some anger.
I keep sixteen in the clip, and one off in the chamber.
Talkin' bout gettin' crunk nigga. Fuck that shit you talkin' nigga.
When I see yo ass nigga, this how shit gon pop off.
This how shit goin' go down from here on out nigga.
So we gotta tell y'all niggas to wake the fuck up. Cyco Black let em know....
Fuck that shit that you talkin'
Fuck that nonsense nigga I'm outside
You gotta problem wit my clique I'm outside
I got my gun in my motherfuckin' ride
We bussin' heads so you bitches better hide
Crunk to the motherfuckin' I.N.C.
Mike, Gray, Black, and Killa behind me.
Park in the street wit Crunk and A.D.
So I dare that nigga to come and try me.
Dare that nigga to walk my street.
Watch me cock it back and let go.
Comin' up popular, he's a fuck nigga I'm a let his ass know
He ain't nothin' but a ho.
Fuck yo words, yo words don't mean shit.
All that talkin' get yo ass hit.
Beat yo bitch wit a baseball bat a-rata-tat-tat on yo ass real quick.
This real shit and I don't play games.
ATL be my domain.
Creep yo cast, and beat yo ass so
Fuck that shit you talkin' mayne.
Yeah, bitch fuck that shit that you talkin'.
Go get yo clique and start walkin'.
My crew too thick so get off me to fuck wit you I got whodi.
Peepin' the scene so don't test me, ho don't try me I stay ready,
Yo shirt goin' be so damn heavy, I snipe yo ass like I'm Wesley.
Got a problem I solve so ho let's take it outside.
Revolver tucked in my pocket I'm feelin' what in my ride.
Bussin' heads is my specialty, One like me, you will never see,
Ho you know I'm wit M.O.B. Wanna buck? It's whatever G.
Keep on poppin I'm a show you just how deep we are.
Y'all niggas thank y'all buck?
We'll have y'all seein' stars.
You'll think you're touchin' Mars, cause we some must asses.
A second blastin' anywhere where there be shit talkin'. So do not get smart
Bitch, cause here we runnin' thangs,
Ain't got no time for lames,
Just bout that money mayne.
Just watch me spray some flames.
Get up, release some anger.
I keep sixteen in the clip, and one off in the chamber.
Lyrics submitted by devastator
Crunk Inc. Lyrics as written by Chris Henderson Alphonce Tyree Smith
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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