Lyrics:
up co-co
I got to tip on the low-low
Bust it there like po-po takin lives with the, oh no
It's a 4-4, mini-missile with a silencer for the whistle
back, I'm at peace at night
No more cops, no more Rodney King's
No more peekin' out the curtain wit' the rifle by any means
AIDS don't exist, plus my
well done
Might live by the gun,
but keep livin' through my livin' son
Hook: [King T] x4
Outro:
[King T]
We make, make, money, money, make, money,
well done
Might live by the gun,
but keep livin' through my livin' son
Hook: [King T] x4
Outro:
[King T]
We make, make, money, money, make, money,
me straight
I can't live without her I fuck her everyday
Shawty stayed by my side when I started grindin'
She da main reason why a nigga shinin'
for one night
I ain't trippin' ain't no thing
You really tryna live
Come and kick it with a king
No commitments ain't no strings
I'm just tryna make
You got them N*ggaz 4 Life and that muthafucka King Tee
The Villain be down with the King like Joey Simmons
Niggas in Compton'll make your ass see
stacked down, heavenly guarded by hollow tip slug
Then crack down, on wannabe thugs adapt to gat sound
And bow down, slow the fuck up, see how my foul
a loaded wap Sinach reload when I'm playing it back
Wi a kick in deh
Bay live rounds yuh a see in deh
Prayer chamber nah no seat in deh
Caah sit down wi di
Danny, D-Ham, DP, Tory, Leon, Kalin, lil Steve, Bugg, Justin Jones, Smoove, Danye, T.Y., Chadwick, PopSmoke, Nipsey Hussle, juice world, King Von Kobe n Gi
a evil grin
I'm an emporer not a King
Body parts hidden in a bin Your legs are binding
Tied up I'm on a binge Poison Your syringe
Ph.D. Of rap
I win!
By
of the dead king of Zombieland
Stay in resident evil like Redfield with a Beretta in hand
Left 4 Dead by my team its all good like a hero
Sickest dude alive be
the mainstream
Radio, road man and stage show
At the same time
Watch what "Too Many Man" and "Sunglasses
At Night" do in 2-00-9
Let me show you why I'm the King
Advocated by the few who do live it
Bloomberg, make a nigga cop the Mossberg
Shorty ain't a shorty, he a Shooter like Wahlberg
Old man told me, don't be,
back, I'm at peace at night
No more cops, no more Rodney King's
No more peekin' out the curtain wit' the rifle by any means
AIDS don't exist, plus my
the mic from me
Run the track back
Riding four flats
When its all wrong
Where my mind at?
Get a kick start
By the dime bag
But ill cut back
Like
the game
Take it by storm now they see the flame
Way up we go we don't live the same
Way up we go and we takin' names
Way up we shot and we took the game
I don't care who they are, I want three kings of the underground
When you find them, give me a call
You have a collect call from, Izzro
If you accept
down, heavenly guarded by hollow tip slug
Then crack down, on wannabe thugs adapt to gat sound
And bow down, slow the fuck up, see how my foul now
heavily guarded by hollow-tip slug
Then crack down on wannabe thugs
Adapt to gat sound and bow down
Slow the fuck up, see how my foul now
Articulate,
like this
My soul glows like it's 24, 4 times 6
My proton spits
Don't tone down shit, this simply wordplay
My old sound kicks like Motown hits
how i kick it, hoes got to lick it
It's tha alkaholiks and j-ro is wicked
E-swifts mad, cause he got it bad
King tees phat and i sport a blue rag
For
juice you dry
Q Da King on the beat so you know we coming live
When I was growing up I was taught to pray before ate
So before I hit the mic you know I
Even though I can forever ever be a king
I will marry this goddamn world, by my own
And put myself a goddamn ring
If I can live through this
If I
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