Going

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Mark Battles] I'm done with the chattin' I'm hoping y'all have fun with the rapping, rugged assassin Nothing can pass us, stuck in molasses Tricking the masses, lucky ass bastards Said it once I won't say it twice Ex left she won't make it right Next check on the Vegas flight MGM for the latest fight Fall in love she won't stay the night Tell the judge I pay the price Fallen thugs ain't the crazy type You know them are my niggas right ? Born a King we did it proper Open eyes for the real imposter Bar change a life like Willy Wonka Barely famous might go to the Oscars Wildin' out with my brother Los Few groupie chicks and some other folks Levitate serve one it's dope A million verses with a bunch of quotes [?] my city backwards MIA with a pretty actress Nah, the sex was decent but the head banging like Lenny Kravitz If I say it you know I do it Stay a hundred the flow the truest They be running I show and prove it Kill niggas on tracks like Tony Stewart When this drops the game is finished Wrap it up, AIDS convention All you niggas better pay attention Props to God cause he made me different Niggas think I'm a vegan cause I eat beats Who you seek on the sneak peek Free leak for need freaks Beep Beep got a street sweep Leave me with the cheat sheet Who you tryna rob? F.O.D nigga fly or die Throwing three's with a lot of pride [Hook: Mark Battles] Going, going, going They got me going, going, going They got me going, going, going They got me going, they got me going [Verse 2: King Los] Wait for it... My whole flow from Mars and it's dumb Your hoe roll with the squad when it come Deep throat, nigga we drove cars in her tongue She stroke these flows, the riot type Require height?, I acquire higher heights I fire ice, higher fire, tried to retire mic's What, you saying you getting lime light? I was like, what with a Diet Sprite Man I know what this collar like You wish you was L'Chaim I'm L'Chaim nice, no really like I am life Hold up Hide your wife, grab your guns I wrap your son in bars, I'm a rapping son of a bitch Bitches wrapped around son, no son of a bitch My daddy was the sum of a pimp I, staple your stomach and button your lip Gun butt to the front of your shit I wanted to piss on you while you was knocked out But the cops was coming, my cock was stuck in front of of my zip Ughh! So I when I see you while I'm cocking my shit And I tell you I got one in the tit I'm either talking 'bout my gun or my dick Running a hundred miles and running Coming for niggas who think they wanna be something this summer Coming I got that drummer drummer drumming drumming pumping nigga Hit that Ferrari pump pump pump pump pump Turn that nigga's pumpkin into pumpernickel That's bread like, bread on your head if it ain't a red light, keep [Hook: Mark Battles] Going, going, going They got me going, going, going They got me going, going, going They got me going, they got me going