King Is Dead
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Lyrics
Take his fucking money!
Fuck him, fuck them and fuck you!
Roll a blunt, right?
Fuck you!
Up the quota
I'm starting to question my motives
So cool he look GQ hopping out Toyota Corollas
Oh so you noticed
That top secret slang kept in manilla folders
I don't care who you are
Cause who you not is the nova
Roll up to help me balance my cobra
Tell the naysayers it's for glaucoma
Modern the potter should be featured at the MOMA
Colder than porridge from the second dish
That's fucking rich
I do whatever the fuck I wish
High hang time is like Spud Webb
When I die place the crown on the king's head
God forbid they claim that the king is dead, right
God forbid they claim that the king is dead
High hang time is like Spud Webb
When I die place the crown on the king's head
God forbid they claim that the king is dead, right
God forbid they claim that the king is dead, right
Wasn't supposed to be shit like shitheads tell it
Language crafted from relics
Be Chairman Mao that shit you speaking shut it down
A true leader stands on people's ground with the people
Incite the pauper seek the crown
He's probably creeping if he's only keeping creeps around
You probably sleeping don't care for peeping we're sweeping down
Brushed up from the dust to the air you breathe
Chill with my scepter when I'm salt and pepper
My skin a couple shades darker brown
Queen, catch up
Keep the royal guard on guard in case of set ups
Royal purple get ups
Transmit like guitar pick ups
We hard to scare hardly get rid of hiccups when they hit us
Shit kickers
No class, no stickers, no pass
No pick me ups just get in line last
And you ain't gotta vote me in I'm walking in
Roll me up some of that sticky the jester had
High hang time is like Spud Webb
When I die place the crown on the king's head
God forbid they claim that the king is dead, right
God forbid they claim that the king is dead
High hang time is like Spud Webb
When I die place the crown on the king's head
God forbid they claim that the king is dead, right
God forbid they claim that the king is dead, right
You guys are winning in the end anyway
We're out there selling ourselves and our families
These people we take from own us
I know what you guys think of us
But we're the only thing between you and the jungle
You don't understand!
We're on the inside!
You got the same kind of dirt on your fingernails as me