Lyrics:
Yeah! and I've set up and turned out this state
With my own two hands
We've traveled this land packed tight in minivans
And all this for the fans,
a million records, we could battle for your money
I'd rather count a hundred thousand dollars on a Sunday
Watch a football game and bet it all on one play
the Kangol top
I was hollerin' dopeboy when I first came out
It seems like everyone in the dope game now man
I told these niggas that it ain't gon stop
All
come on
You're far from home so leave it alone
You creeping with the king of the throne
You sleepin' in a tee and a thong
With your hair in a pony
I
blew up, I'd be in the Aftermath
Bumpin' gangsta rap shit, down to blast for cash
'Cause from Eazy-E, to DOC, to DPG
Started from that SOB, DRE
Like
with billy goats, it's natural
Speak game on the C plane
Now the blue-faces matchin' the deep waves
Shorty took the pics solo, know no one see things
the game, it ain't a glorious road
Rest in peace Kobe and Nip, that's off the rip
King shit, if it ain't about fam, it don't mean shit
The cure, love all
I'm massive, and you're a small fry
You're all in, a stunt, a fall-guy
Outta order I smolder blacks to make you SUFFER!!
Cause it gets no rougher, it
in love with the lie
Now who to blame? You to blame? Me to blame?
For the pain and it be pouring every time when it rain
Let's play the blame game
a million records, we could battle for your money
I'd rather count a hundred thousand dollars on a Sunday
Watch a football game and bet it all on one play
Ice Cube, the name will live in infamy
Ask the young nigga that invented Eazy-E
West Coast bitch, yeah that's all me
With Too Short and the D-R-E
We
the Kangol top
I was hollerin' dopeboy when I first came out
It seems like everyone in the dope game now man
I told these n****s that it ain't gon stop
All
going on?
Where did we go wrong?
Where do we belong?
Caught up in the game and it's one I can't postpone
Meanin' if it rains, I'm the one it's rainin'
There's no man in town as admired as you
You're everyone's favorite guy
Everyone's awed and inspired by you
And it's not very hard to see why
No one's
bracelets and rings
All of the little accents that make me a king
I never hear the disses they try and point out to me
But it's whatever if somebody won't
deja vu
And the day y'all do
It'll be the day y'all bleed
Wrist minus 80 degrees
King of Harlem ain't nobody made me leave
Who else could take 5
wave.
So not surprising was their thought,
This is he, God's chosen one,
Who's come to save us from
All our oppressors.
We shall be kings on this
the rain
We swerving off the lane
He finished when he started
When he lost and he was king and she escaped
We all can't run the game
It all comes back, we
alone and all the people with the big hats on went home
So what you gon' do now, Goldie? Your bottom left you
It's up to me and you, Goldie, through
bracelets and rings
All of the little accents that make me a king
I never hear the disses they try and point out to me
But it's whatever if somebody won't
By the last breath of the four winds that blow
I'll have revenge upon Fortunato
Smile in his face I'll say "come let us go
I've a cask
bitches so ain't ya
Got so many pictures of Ben Franklin
High top tennis on the car cover of the whole game cold
Fuck it up with me, niggas come from all
'Stead of treated, we get tricked
'Stead of kisses, we get kicked
It's the hard knock life
I flow for those 'dro'ed out, all my niggas
Locked down in
the Tiger King when I'm the king when it comes to this Rodman thing
All of my songs hit
Bada-bing, in a pandemic, but I do not feel a thing
Last week,
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