Lyrics:
king steak
I grew up on Kings Way
Germantown, Wisconsin
Little suburb no one's heard of
Now it's popping off of King Weight
Government says Ben Wait
wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy)
Did your crib get raided by this little piggy?
(Wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy)
Have you ever whooped a nigga til'
is on the top
Di king is on the top up
To the very last drop
Mi know a little girl by
Di name of sister Pat
Mi send her down town fi go buy two
She
wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy)
Did your crib get raided by this little piggy?
(wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy)
Have you ever whooped a nigga til'
wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy)
Did your crib get raided by this little piggy?
(wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy, wiggy)
Have you ever whooped a nigga til'
Yeah this one right here goes out to all the baby's mamas, mamas
Mamas, mamas, baby mamas, mamas
Yeah, go like this
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (oh),
Yeah this one right here goes out to all the baby's mamas, mamas
Mamas, mamas, baby mamas, mamas
Yeah, go like this
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (oh),
Yeah, this one right here goes out to all the baby's mamas, mamas
Mamas, mamas, baby mamas, mamas
Yeah, go like this
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson
ScWcM, ScWcM, ScWcM, ScWcM, ScWcM (Chant!)
Ijee eeee (Chant!)
When I was little, you went to market
I waited; I waited for Mama (Mother) eee
Mama
carton
You could still feel chills from the team
On 118, my nigga Ben fly by like it's a dream
His face on his Shirt Kings
Laced in a pinky ring, in
born African king
You are a true born African queen
My mama born the rude boy African singer
So na who born this African beauty hey
Na your mama hey hey
(28 shit)
'Fore I hit Carl and buy your catalogue
Sigh
How you fuck your mother man when she die?
How you go on Gayle King and can't cry?
Chile,
something
Like the lines of:
When I get signed, homie, I'mma act a fool
Hit the dance floor
Strobe lights in the room
Snatch your little secretary thing
For
a bigger herd
Live a little birdy
No mumbling you heard it
Keep in line
And call me Berk
The Turkish God
Noone better in e-rappin
This fight was done from
the thing.
You know the things we do
When we off the light
E dey sweet
E dey kill at a time
But don't be scared
Baby me I ghat your back
With you by my side
Sigh
How you fuck your mother man when she die?
How you go on Gayle King and can't cry?
Chile, bye
Big foot, but you still a small fry
Swearin'
Yeah this one right here goes out to all the baby's mamas, mamas
Mamas, mamas, baby mamas, mamas
Yeah, go like this
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (oh),
Yah
Mama, look we on
Yah
We gonna be alright
Yah
We gonna be alright
Blinded by flashing lights
Vocals colder than negative v's degrees, they shouldn't
Yeah, fuck you Ben
I'm not stinky, I'm actually smelly
You're the stinky poo poo head
Yeah yeah WellFed
Yeah Ben you fucking suck
All you are is
Yeah this one right here goes out to all the baby's mamas, mamas
Mamas, mamas, baby mamas, mamas
Yeah, go like this
I'm sorry Ms. Jackson (oh),
yeah
They say I'm savage
So, baby, damage
I've got all that I think you can manage
A little remedy never do you no harm
Come on down to mama's barn
you mama and pop (Mama)
Your prayers at least worked a little
Helped me see the brighter in life I went from mounds to the skittles
Could barely chew
lady, she got her own in her Mercedes
And she single
She thick and grown with no babies
I really wanna take little mama
Home and go crazy but she won't
had on her long night on the corner all the nights
I jumped on her, chill mama but mama just a little
girl, I'm 17 she 15 we having a little girl,
she
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