King James lyrics

by

Freeway


[Verse 1 - Young Chris]
Young n*ggas work hard, broad day in the park
We murder sh*t, rain hail sleet snow
Y'all n*ggas in the crib, we serving sh*t
I got a clock for a block full of North Philly rebels
Every time a young n*gga hit the club
n*gga was a fly little dude, b-ball player
Now you all f*cked up, addicted to the shrubs
n*gga been known since I knocked my plug
Hating ass n*ggas can't stop my flow
No a n*gga can't fall in love with a ho
And a ho end up with a n*gga I know
Triple beam dream, young n*gga on schemes
Run through the [?] put the b*tches on [?]
Front through the block, leave that b*tch home [?]
Then I run through the work, got to visit my fiends
Now a n*gga strapped up on winging hawk
Right back on the corner
With a bunch of young thug n*ggas that's slinging rock
Thank god I'm an owner
And they all slanging work, they all claiming turf
Till they back the old hearse in
Tryna say a verse or two, let the choir sing
Let them pack the whole church in

[Verse 2 - Kur]
Me and phil pack so much loud (shower)
So much loud some like it washed up in it
We them n*ggas at Ruth Chris
Eating mac and cheese with the lobster in it
Funny how I'm eating five star
But just a year ago ain't have a pot to p*ss in
I get bored with rap, it ain't no competition
That's Young Chris, here go some competition
And I pop perks, but they are not prescripted
Turn my block into a CVS
f*ck a doctor visit, how you tryna eat and ain't tryna chip in
If I ever go to a b*tch crib I am pulled up
I will not be slipping
If you run into me put 33 all on your back just like Scottie Pippen
If this rap sh*t don't work out, ok I got another plan
Look, Imma bubblegrams and put tax on the work like Uncle Sam
I was a product of my environment, so I had no choice to sell product
And I had no choice to stand on corners with a hoodie on
Like yo cop up, and my neighbors call and make the cops come
When I was just tryna make an income
In this game you know there's ups and downs
You know you lose some, you know you win some
Got to stay prepared for when the drought come
Ball hard enough, that's when the scout come
And my man told x n*ggas out, by any means, just like Malcolm
[Verse 3 - Freeway]
I'm a bitter n*gga strapped with a four four
Speedload extra bullets, that's an encore
My n*ggas trap with the mac, get your mind dwarf
Treat it like the corner bar, do shots in it
We don't lease cars, we don't drive rentals
Put the cash down, then we hop in it
Yo ho hot, just like an oven
I don't hit her stop and she give me top in it
New era, ball fitted, I'm a real n*gga, authentic
Got that seven 50, six 50 that panamera and they all kidding
Got Gotti beat, we all in it, foreign trips, we all did it
We for real, while y'all frauds with it
Y'all rap about it while we [?] the streets
We Master P, we bought it bought it
I hitch ho, while you thought about it
I lean back, just a plot of knowledge
She give me brains, she a f*cking geek
Before I ever ever touched a beat
Flipped a birds tree cop three times a week
Moved a rock way before I met Jay and Bleek
Graduated from the streets that's hood college
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