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black kings - sauce walka lyrics

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[intro: sauce walka & babyface ray]
oowee, oowee (codeine cowboys, man)
this sh*t real, n*gga
i don’t know about if it is for you, but i know about me

[verse 1: sauce walka]
it’s rainin’, he lookin’ at the ghetto from out the window pane
his brother died, and this young n*gga can’t even feel no pain
is he gon’ ride, or is he gon’ live in the hood with all the shame?
is he gon’ slide, strap his cleats on when he ain’t even in the game?
but that’s what it is when you born up in the field
ain’t no flowers or daffodils, just some animals strapped to k!ll
all the youngsters slappin’ youngins at school, they strapped for meals
n*ggas thinkin’ he bullyin’ on him for size, but hе starved for real
ain’t no dinner aftеr eighth period
see, in my ghetto, that hot plate after school is really serious
i knew a n*gga went all*american, he was really near
he got shot in a drive*by, now his whole family fears
no hall of fame, just hall of tears in a hospital
this where the clips be really big, but all the glocks little
they loadin’ bullets in their vans, callin’ them cop k!llers
it’s armageddon on my block, n*gga
[verse 2: babyface ray]
all this chasin’ shmoney, it done turned me to a hot n*gga
crib look like a school, my neighbor’s white, it got a fox in it
i’ma keep it trill and spill the real, you know i’m authentic
exotic sodas, feelin’ so scented
ay, keep your head up when it’s low because the table’s turned
wait your turn, i was f*cked up, now that money burned
i seen the closest turn they back about the sh*t i earned
i’m standin’ firm, ten toes, say one word, your b*tch gone
money long, my clips long
if i put my hoes together, i might need a limo
smallest town, sellin’ girl
mama think i pimp hoes, know i keep that sh*t on
woke up late, sippin’ syrup, put my kit on
ridin’ foreign, came a long way from the rental
cartier vision, i see it clear, ain’t no trickin’ me
galleria, i f*ck off a bag, that ain’t sh*t to me
i done made my dreams real life, they keep pinchin’ me
nah, for real, this my real life, speak it vividly

[verse 3: sauce walka & babyface ray]
i done made a million out of pimpin’, ain’t no simp in me
i done snapped my fingers and turned the n*gga into history
martin luther king had a whole dream for this white b*tch with me
malcom x choppa at the window, let these n*ggas see
designer tings, i jump out and drip and i’m a kitchen sink
designer jeans, these evisus, my legs is j*panese
rapper, please, i’ve been countin’ up b*tch money since i was seventeen
when jordan was still winnin’ rings, i was a kid at the park pimpin’ swings
[outro: sauce walka & babyface ray]
we black kings (yeah, no cap)
we black kings, yeah, f*ck you mean, still sippin’ lean

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