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ya - craig hop the king lyrics

look at ya, look at ya
look at ya, look at ya

you doing good homie!
look at, look at, look at ya
you on to big things now, huh?
look at, look at, look at ya
aw, you k!lling shit!
look at, look at, look at ya
yeah, you the big man!
look at, look at, look at ya

man you looking back at the looking gl-ss with your looking -ss
but look fast, they snuck past y’all snakes in the gr-ss
as i gravitate towards a better path with my gravitas
far past a young lad grabbing on that -ss
used to skip cl-ss till i decided to be a cl-ssic
any cl-ss clown act cr-ss get his -ss kicked
and flipped like the script when we was looking at my future
never thought the variable be a macintosh computer
and some confidence, tell a loser suck up on my c-ckiness
keep it rocking like it’s pewter while i go conquer shit-
like conan, kong, kang, or the apocalypse
lady j’s scales balance politics and hollow tips
life’s just a beach and we only get a shallow dip
back to the 90’s- all that! and a bag of chips
an shit don’t stank, if you never take a whiff-
i take picture, nah, i keep it real, and make a movie
i don’t need any more groupies
need some lucy, keep me loopy
keep it loose like the noose around my neck
they told me act my age, but i’m rather busy catching heck
from these devils in my head
when i be tryna go to bed
i need a story first, go and get the bible on casette
life of pie, finna get a slice like kimbo
staying out at night, going round, breaking all the nieghbors windows
most the shit i do be criminal, make it up in limbo
they say that suicide be difficult, k!ll my instrumentals
get it popping like 2pac, 2 shots, or a pimple
scratch the surface, make a splash, only leave a ripple
double dribble- got these people tryna coach me
traded in the rope leash, went and got a gold fleece
smoke weed from a broke piece with my broskis
down the rabbit hole in a toboggan with two broke skis
the cheshire cat toke and then he asking what would you do?
only trick a chick if her name cindy lou who
send my love and praises to the dark lord cthulu
fan of black magic, alchemy, and some voodoo
ah, that shit’s absurd
it was third grade learning bout cursive the curly words
while they was creeping like them thirty thirds
they really should be concerned
shooting stars like we living out in kirby’s world
follow fibonacci walking around in perfect swirls

- craig hop the king lyrics

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