album cover
Crab Rangoon
album cover
Crab Rangoon was released on August 26, 2025 by THE LUNCH CREW COMPANY LLC as a part of the album Crab Rangoon - Single
August 26, 2025
LabelTHE LUNCH CREW COMPANY LLC
LanguageEnglish
BPM
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy

Lyrics

King
(Sorski made this)
Middle-manning quarter bricky up at Dados
Trap fast food, egg rolls and crab rangoon
Driving slow in traffic, car and Glock both fast dudes
I'ma get to tweakin' if you put me in a bad mood
Do you want the good news or the bad news?
Bullets burn, piercing ****' skin like tattoos
I don't take my shoes off, baby, these trap rules
Bottega runners, twelve-hundred-dollar dad shoes
Mean off the drank, I be really tryna act cool
Can't be nice, pants, jacket, and hat Rhude
Can't be pressed, I play everything casual
**** so soft, they make everything fragile
You speakin' on me, then it better be factual
'Cause ain't nobody but me helpin' me stack it
She catch the bag, we don't fuck, yeah, we just travel
I'm married to the game, no wedding, no chapel
I bought a book, I'm whippin' up the seventeenth chapter
Surrounded by sand like a Lebanese castle
She all on my dick, but he sayin' he had her
She spendin' your money, she lettin' me crack
Bitch, do I like climbin' up trees? Give me a ladder
Why he think she was one of my new hoes? I been cracked her
I was too gone, I had to kick the cup, was too active
Let my mama or somebody kick my cup, I been smacked 'em
I just tricked 'em, I just put the same weed in a new package
He be trickin', he be fuckin' with these hoes we been havin'
Shoe-head, forty kicks on Warren, I just stashed 'em
And my stash full of Benjamins, Grants, no Jacksons
In Flint with some grimy ****, they robbed a **** on Jackson
Told him he could get a deal on the drank, I still taxed him
She fine as fuck, head fire, but the pussy just average
I just fucked two or three hoes last week, that's just average
Hopped up out a big body up into a Benz, that 4Matic
Bitch, I grind hard with a passion
**** try to run off on the gang, we toe tag him
**** ain't on shit, **** said he gon' kill me, just roll past him
Mm, Trish and Quagen only, I'm a dope addict
Lil' Kim was fine as fuck, why she had to go plastic?
I rock ice and get money and I'm a dope daddy
Me and purp, twenty pints of Quagen, ridin' to Old National
****, ask Marley and Sonny Diz
Wanna impress me, show me how to make a hundred M's
Boy, that shit wack, you need to write it, quit punchin' in
You can fuck my bitch, you gotta tell me what your budget is
Pocket full of dog shit, had to stuff it in
Unc knocked my cup of Wock' over, now my uncle dead
Her mouth put me down every time, she got a muscle head
I'm tender, bae, don't suck nobody else, man, where your muzzle at?
.300 Blackout make a **** do a jumping jack
I can make you rich overnight, why you wanna rap?
Bitch, your body so damn perfect, where your stomach at?
Feds indict me, catch me hidin' out where Russell at
Shout out to Russell Simmons
MeToo got me dappin' bitches up, can't even hug the women
Donut made her wanna swallow children, man, these diamonds hittin'
Drunk so much Quagen, got me livin' with a ruptured kidney
Y'ello
(The Lunch Crew Company, I'm part of that)
(The Lunch Crew Company)
Written by: GrindHard E, King Cashes, Tyree Jawan Thomas
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