king shit - boonie mayfield lyrics
[intro]
ugh
ugh
ugh
ugh
[verse]
one of my peers said i love it too much
too many rappers love to f*ck it to clutch
at the money they can make
and honeys they can take on dates
and get them drunk to sick on their duck
and i’m sick of hearing it
bullsh*t, it’s tragic
i’m disappearing it, no blue to my magic
i’m red pilling it, you in the matrix
so now i’m k!lling it with neo soul
no keanu, but i play piano
my music can free your soul
don’t wanna go mano a mano on the mic with me
i’m more like micheal with the heart of stephen
ugh, years ahead of what you started gettin’ b*tch
only follow if a n*gga gettin’ rich, you bopeepin’ n*gga
clothes sheepin’ with your pack of rabid dogs
all chasing after p*ssy like you mad at drawers
on that sucka sh*t, you can suck a d*ck
think of your mother next time you f*ck a b*tch
stupid motha f*cka, you did nothin’ but the
same ol’ sh*t a deadbeat daddy did
acting like a chick can never have a kid
should be pulling out if that’s what you about
i’m talking music now
to you she’s a hooker with f*ckability
so you wanna hook up with no ability
can’t even k!ll a beat without a guest appearance
writing your hook and your bars too?
that ain’t a rapper, that’s more like an actor when given a script
they applaud you? i’m clearly not meant for the mainstream
or the same dream that i had as a kid
don’t want your cosign as bad as i did
h*ll no i won’t sign a dotted line and give you part of mine
i gave my heart and time to everyday at my crib all alone in my zone
name another kid who taught himself how to play
“mary had a little lamb” on the phone
berry gordy n*gga, that’s some history, i’m a mystery
you’re an open book with nothing it, ugh
you’re a loser but you wanna win it, huh?
never feeling safe when all alone?
firearm bars got you holly holm?
talking rowdy sh*t, tell me how does it
feel when it gets back to the talented
real sh*t again, i ain’t fitting in
got my own throne that i’m sitting in
that’s king sh*t
the royal p*n*s getting clean sh*t
i’ll come into america with no rubber
make golden child offspring sh*t
that’s off the wall, need a murphy bed
to connect everything that a n*gga said
so off the wall, michael jackson’s head on my arm
gave a nod even though he dead
that’s king sh*t
ugh
[chorus]
that’s king sh*t (that’s king sh*t)
that’s king sh*t (that’s king sh*t)
that’s king sh*t (that’s king sh*t)
that’s king sh*t (that’s king sh*t)
that’s king sh*t (that’s king sh*t)
that’s king sh*t (that’s king sh*t)
[outro]
f*ck it (laughs)
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