[Intro]
It's forty-one, son, hahahahaa
Hip Hop Weekly, C.O.B., Circle of Bosses
Crooked ow
Yeah, ya'll know what it is man
Best rapper alive, yeah
We talkin' shit, hahaha
Yeah, Eastside Hip Hop Weekly, C.O.B
Eastside Crooked, haha yeah

[Verse 1]
Live by the microphone, die by the microphone
Dead on stage like James Brown, that's what I be on
Not me, anybody fucking with the champion
Top shotty clapper, a coffin is not a happy home
I body rappers, send 'em home like God bless
Not Killa Cam but still I am a hot mess
Yes, I don't sleep, my eyes rest
Even then I dream sixteens, it's all progress
Rest assured, I rep the West and more
I rep hip hop from the Western shores
I'm in the West and I'm sexin' whores
They say clothes make the man
But when you bitches get dressed, less is more
Take 'em to my house on the hill my skill built
Made it through some bad deals, didn't cry over spilled milk
Bill of my Dodger hat has that ill tilt
My pen still ill as Ill Bill's
I stands taller than some steel stilts
Shouts out to Virus in the Chi it's
Crooked I, my God I'm wise as Osirus
Life is hard so I'm fighting like the Irish
Every second's precious like the time aligned on my wrist
Breitling, the bracelet bling, I make things happen
I got C.O.B.s in Beijing snapping
C.O.B.s in Nigeria, ask Shay, we crackin'
That's West African traffickin', they made me captain
Give 'em a full view of the hood without a wide lens
Panasonic, just hypnotic and a sack of chronic
It's like I got a bipolar disorder, I'm catatonic
Banger hanging out of the back pocket homey, I'm catastrophic
Crooked from the C.O.B. mafia, give 'em five shots
Keep one eye open like an insomnia stricken cyclops
So how could you possibly trick a sly fox
My philosophies exist outside of your mind's box
None better, I rip whoever to pieces
Got enough cheddar to fuck all your celibate nieces
Bend over backwards for these record releases
Just like a spoon does for those with telekinesis
I don't know how to stop the spread of diseases
But a cure for wack, I developed a hell of a thesis
A sure shot method, no medicine needed
A sure shot to the head of them n***as, better believe it
Best rapper alive, these are the bare facts
You barely comprehend so I'm setting these bear traps
I make you listen, I'm giving the business to their tracks
On my forty-first Weekly, who can walk in them Air Max, huh?
[Outro]
Yeah, who can walk in them Air Max?
The classic joints n***a, all leather white
With a fresh white tee, nah mean?
C.O.B., what's going on in this motherfuckin' world
Keep your head up out there Kenya
Lotta shit going on in the motherland, you know
Gotta shout out all my people over there
West Africa's in the building
Nigerian C.O.B.s stand up
Shay! Hahaha, yeah, we comin'
What's poppin'?
Let me shout out my dude Juice from Black Wall you know what I mean
Coming through the [?] fucking with us real C.O.B.s
Shout out to my n***a G Malone
Yeah, it ain't over homey
Crooked, hey Pi, shut it down
That's it