[Intro: Crooked I]
Hip Hop Weekly, no relations to the magazine
Crooked I, C.O.B. ya'll know what we doing right
Ya'll gotta forgive me for last week man
I get real emotional over that snitch shit 'cause
Got a lot of people locked up
Ya naw mean
Yeah, like my little brother Byron
He locked up in one of them motherfucker Texas
Departments of Corrections you know, fuck them n***as
So I get real emotional with that type of shit
What up Pi
We gonna lay back this time though
What up Rico
I'ma be cool don't worry about me
I got my pistol, my Hennessy
Oh yeah, I was supposed to rap right there but uh
Shouts out to everybody supporting this classic series
I'ma send ya'll a bulletin on Myspace

[Verse 1: Crooked I]
Week 30's the new 20, this is unfair abuse
I spend extra where my ancestors used to wear a noose
The necklace cost more than tuition at Syracuse
So much ice, if you melt it you could make carat juice
Got thug in my spirit
I'm selling Hip Hop Weekly condoms now just so you could fuck with my lyrics
Lot of n***as' style suck when I hear it
Irritate my ears like fuck when I'm near it
Here it is
I'm the LLC, the Escorp, the INC, I am the biz
Crazy killers want to ride on my nigs
Like babysitters I gotta keep my eye on you kids
When I'm in the club I can feel you looking at me
Just remember my trigger is Crooked happy
When I put a price on you pussies like hookers
Call me sugar daddy, pay for them bullets gladly
Sad we can't just all get along
Especially when the DJ's playing my favorite song
I think it was Kanye, Flashing Lights
I'm on the floor sandwiching between some jazzy dykes
That's when a hater walked up with them ashy Nikes
You know the kind that ain't exactly white
Even though I can I don't exactly fight
Said he wanted to talk to me but didn't ask me right
So I whispered in his ear I'm the classy type
But if I shoot you what would that be like?
You understand me right?
I'm from Eastside Long Beach, we do this shit the G way
I can't put the shine move on replay
So I wait outside then I let the heat spray
Damn I love it when a club's next to the freeway (the 110)
But enough of that negative talk
I'm vice president of Treacherous Records, executive boss
My focus never been lost
When it comes to presidents, the deader the better
Get cheddar whatever the cost
New West move effectively
To bring it back man we got to move collectively
The West Coast savior that's what you expect to be
How you gon' save it by yourself when you can't f with me
C.O.B., spirit of dead mobsters in us
Organize and we all can eat lobster dinners
The U.S. mint keep giving guap to winners
Bill Gates and Warren Buffet can't stop them printers
I'm just leading the blind over beats and the rhyme
I'm just speaking my mind one week at a time
Know you eager to shine, just believe in your grind
Like I'm believing in mine, keep reading the signs
The other day I was in front of the barber shop
I seen a man with one leg get up and start to hop
He had a smile that was hard to stop
Now think of his hand next time you looking at the cards you got
Thought about it as I pulled out of the parking lot
Over the years I've balled, look at all the cars I've bought
Then I had to thank God that my bars are hot
I'ma make it to the top, X marks the spot
Bullseye, hit it like I'm working with two semis
Serving perfect verses from New Jersey to New Guinea
This is Hip Hop Weekly, 30's the new 20
Want to shout out everybody but it's certainly too many
This your shit, C-R double O shit
Week after week we hitting you with this flow shit
People on the streets say Crooked we want some more shit
So I keep this mic in my palm, my shit the bomb

[Outro]
Yeah, I told you I'm sending a Myspace bulletin
To everyone supporting this motherfucking series
It's history in the making
And whoever's listening to it is making history
Holler at your boy, C.O.B., Circle of Bosses
California's on fire right now
Lot of people getting evacuated from they homes and shit
Keep your head up, see you next week
NW, Next Week, New West whatever