Self-Produced. 

shit’s so fucking annoying bro, goddamn.

how many times do i really gotta talk my shit?
gotta spend 2 bands on xanax to talk like this
go see my plug cause i know they a block out 
we ride windows tinted with them brushed black glocks out
he done talking shit cause i know he got popped now 
talking shit on live we done told you to stop now 
buy my shit in bulk… oh my god fuck, buy my shit in bulk if you aint know but here’s how 
swipe a couple cards rack up and buy a couple bricks 
knew a couple men went fed when they couldnt beat the shit 
if you cant hold it down… plug your ears up 
chilling in the crib drinking lean out a sippy cup
went and got a pint a wock i fucked up the reup
bust your top… sauce leaking out, deep dish pizza
killed a man in cold blood and put him in the freezer 
talking down on me better make amends with jesus 
cause we spinning on your shit 
we taking all you got and we toss your ass in the ditch 
couple goons kill your whole family if you snitch
and if you staying down with me we bout to hit it rich
bitch.
Ckuujo shit.

Freezer

Self-Produced.

i wanna be dead i wanna be
i wanna be dead i wanna be 
i wanna be dead i wanna be dead i wanna be dead i wanna be 

really this world never fail to astonish me 
getting worse by the second i wanna be 
my closest i push away for days 
ideation i want a coffin to lay 
wonder why im always in bed
this fucking war in my head 
soon my head will be scattered with lead
sorry the old ash is dead 

this isnt ckuujo speaking 
my heart and my brain start leaking 
took so much i cant help but start tweaking
all my life never could grasp a reason
i dont have much to go on for 
i think i really need an encore 
body ice cold start freezing
that time of the year suicide season

emotional manipulation you already fucking know
been like that for years shit i dont know whats real no more 
been slammed down by my friends and picked up by my enemies 
would blow my brains but the bitches be into me 
shit
turned to drugs too early on
my frontal lobe is fucking gone 
i know i cannot do no wrong 

im flyer than a fucking swan

man just end this fucking song

Frailty

Self-Produced.

Lyrics:
See I'm a junkyard dog, not a Scooby Doo
I got that white girl, true, I’m talking Betty Boop
I cruise the block at night cooling you can get a scoop
If you got a strap you best be prepped to shoot it too

we dont take no chances 
the type to walk up in the club shoot you and your mans’
the type to hear some shots ring out and be up dancing
the type to pass down a drako that second hand shit 
the type to walk down the block with a couple bandits 

we don’t need hand straps im on my tyson shit 
i’ll walk you down swinging up on you and your bitch 
hit you with an uppercut and a haymaker 
go back to my kitchen whip it like a fucking baker

remember back when, cooking in the den, with the arm and hammer 
strapped in, with the mac 10, send you to ya nana  pack split with the mag gripped, never see the slammer 
fact is, poured the activis, bitch i been a scammer 

drink all up in my cup the styrofoam is never dry
my hoes dont give a fuck they suck me up until i die 
suck the blood out my dick i fuck the bitch until she cry
dont smoke the pack no more im done with that fuck being high

Betty Boop

work best under pressure and sleep deprived 
bags under my eyes bag in the trunk with the racks inside 
do or die you may be the dead guy 
eastside suicide all my millies nine
what you gonna do bitch? 
what you gonna do? 
if i get it for the 1 then you get it for the 2 
that’s how it is 
posted in the crib sippy cup with the trizz 
im an open book but stay up out my bis’
fuck it 
cock it back aim it and crush it 
i dont give a fuck if we out and in public 
whip my dick out go and suck it 
im a menace 
aint no tennis when we racketeering 
audi i8 what im steering 
coke on the bills blood on the floor 
never stopping need a little more 
a fucking monster bitch ice cold 
shoot at the crowd when im at a show 
shoot ya bitch face when im with ya hoe 
she love ckuujo you already know 
fans circle when i leave the crib 
throwing elbows its a mosh pit 
cant wait til i end this shit

Blood On The Floor

Blood On The Floor (Slowed)

Blood On The Floor (Sped Up)

self produced.
throwaway 
lyrics: yaint need em

FUCKYALLHOES

Self Produced.

Lyrics:
i just dont give no fucks
addy in me no i can’t get up
dog boy from the pound i cant get cuffed 
shake a collar and leash i won’t give up
sip drank and pop pills til i kick my buck 
my girl pissed at me im too high to fuck
wish i was different, i been down on luck
now what’s done is done, i don’t give a fuck

i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks

all the chips are down, got the cops around
pigs out, and ckuujo a hound 
kick the door, and shots ring out 
hit the floor, bust ya spleen out 
got my girl medusa, turn yo ass to stone
bust every mirror up in ya home
50 round drum shooting hockey pucks, i dont give no fucks

i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks 

i dont give a fuck, shit never 
how does it make you feel? shit whatever
i can’t do this shit, bitch im numb to it 
never talk feelings just buy a zip
leave me alone 
ghosts trapped all up in my phone 
can’t even stay home
with my thoughts and feelings for too long
bitch i’ll go insane 
maybe the drugs went and fucked up my brain 
maybe i always was just this insane 
maybe it’s just from the dealings with lames 
maybe i just been too long without caine 
but at the end of the day

i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks
i don’t give no fucks

Ckuujo

Popular tracks