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[Verse 1: KXNG Crooked]
The killer standing in your front yard
Gun bars motherfucker, we got gun bars
Bullets spreading from your lumbar to where your lungs are
Talking shit like Donald, pull your trump card
Chill with the angry rap, fuck that
Like pulling out when doggystyling, itâs the comeback
Corporate sponsors donât like it homie, whatâs that
Still got niggas sitting in the drug trap
Beautiful ignorance, I spew beautiful ignorance
I'll fucking shoot you what you think I do to some instruments?
Real bitches love my shit, do the arithmetics
They donât fuck with your soft shit, thatâs musical impotence
Hell nah, I donât fuck with yâall
Glocks and them revolvers man, I done tucked them all
I know the cops probably kill me with shots âcause I canât duck âem all
I just pray to God my dying words is âfuck them allâ
[Interlue]
(Word, man)
Fuck the motherfucking police, man
Killing niggas with their hands up
(On my mama)
Fuck them motherfucker, man
(Hate them motherfuckers)
You know what, we got start killing them out here
(Like doo, doo, doo)
[Hook: KXNG Crooked]
Iâm just a shady ass nigga from the west coast
Getting cash money ever since Death Row
Ainât no limit to the way I let my tec blow
Rock a fella to sleep with a smith & wess yo
Iâm a ruthless bad boy nigga, letâs go
Iâm a ruthless bad boy nigga, letâs go
Iâm a ruthless bad boy nigga, letâs go
Iâm a ruthless bad boy nigga, letâs go
[Veres 2: KXNG Crooked]
Yeah, Fake niggas got the game falling
I give a fuck if you lames balling
You donât like me, get to name calling
I speak my mind like Iâm James Baldwin
Yeah, Iâm raising hell while youâre facing Lâs
Losing yourself chasing sales, thatâs a major fail
Iâm ringing bells, blazing trails, nigga my paper swells
All day I think of bars, blame my brain cells
Iâm getting drunk if you canât tell
Ainât no gravity in this ho so I canât fail
Fall, all you pussy boys go to hell
If I tell you what I know, Iâll probably go to jail
But I think too futuristic to ever become a new statistic
Like you predicted, right, Iâm super gifted, right, and what I write is too descriptive
We can get pugilistic, or I can shoot the biscuit
âCause I shoot terrific, you will lose if you get the ruger twisted
Right, theyâre wondering where that real rap was
Nah Statik, these niggas donât want to rap, cuz
And I got some bloggers I donât like at all
Fuck your site, nigga, put me on the cover of Final Call
[Interlude]
You fucking mother fucking punk ass websites
(Like some Malcolm X shit)
You damn sites tried to kill hip-hop
(The shit here crazy, man)
Itâs fucking hipsters out here
Posting all that soft shit
We donât fuck with that soft shit
(We donât like that shit, nigga, fuck it)
[Verse 3: Termanology]
Iâm just a grimy Puerto Rican from the east coast
Squeeze toast, lifting off your chain, call me Debo
In front of One Freedom Tower with the beams glowing
All my goons hungry wolves with the teeth showing
Iâll run in the building where Darren Wilson live
Wearing a Mike Brown mask and kill his pregnant bitch
I got a military submachine navy gat
That will put you where Brenda put the baby at
Iâll cut your tongue out, itâs nothing you can say to that
Just a mercenary machine that was made to rap
And for the profit, Iâll hit you with a dome rocket
You shouldâve went and bought a gun instead of foam posits
A nine, 38, desert, and a mac milli
Four different kinds of spitters like Black Hippy
You act silly, Iâll treat you like a clown, man
Put a red dot on your nose and have you found dead
Iâm ruthless âtil I die, call me Eazy-E
But I bring the east coast sound like Iâm in D&D
Rest in peace Sean P, you was the rapping king
Cop your thing one time in the air for Statik KXNG
- Album:
- Statik Kxng