Kings

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Novej] I hail from Freedom Hill, on my feet, I stand And what used to be Fila's and Reebok's, damn I would meet you at the weed spot where we got grams Enough, Doc couldn't detox, so need I plan To squeeze off, man, if we not fam And let 'em die for ever tryin' to calcify my pineal gland Yeah, they rap like fajitas but chica's fan of whose? Gettin' more play like the east side band, ya heard She likes diction, a lot of words Non-fiction, a bad boy pissed and who fly the bird If he a Christian, what is this, he got the Earth 93 million miles away, Glock in her purse Ahk' got the nerve, yeah, I know I ought to serve Everybody lookin' for a fix, if I got the work This is not a curse, chip on my collared shirt Bless manifest my destiny, yep, without the church Amen, whose son's makin' a livin'? Done chasin' the chicken but stashed cake in the kitchen Some hated, we kick it, these bums basically sickened Not a part of my body, God, too big for trippin', huh My alibi, tell them I was high when you seen me Resurrect Malcolm X, raise my Kundalini Genocide couldn't pry me out the black beanie Still tapped the bottle of Moscato, watch the genie [Hook: Jalen Santoy] Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter [Verse 2: Lute] While YouTube got niggas fooled — fuck the nae-nae I'm just tryin' to get us-us free like Cinque Whole lot of followers, a lot less leading When y'all niggas gon' realize you can't hashtag freedom #FreeMyNigga when you know he did it Make us look ign'ant, don't air his business As a culture, now we back where we started, all over While niggas in the club predict rain like Al Roker I'm just tryin' to get us on track like locomotives Clutch your soul, like, what's the motive? I just hope you remain focused on what the goal is God body, young Marcus Garvey, my mama said Hood's prophet, I'm hood's topic 2 years later, I still got it, fuck the street cred In the '86 Cutlass bumpin' Jeezy Holler at your boy if you ever need me 'Cause I'm gone, maybe off the liquor Or maybe in the '86 Caprice with a lift kit Either way it goes, I'm lifted While niggas iced out to the T like they Lipton Dumbin' down their lyrics just to get some recognition I'll be in the booth like Craig Mack kickin' flavor in your system Uh, or better yet, your eardrum Fuck the metaphors, hope the truth make you listen [Hook: Jalen Santoy] Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter [Verse 3: Jalen Santoy] Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah We praise to Gandhi, you gon' have to praise the shooter So hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah We praise to Gandhi, you gon' have to praise the shooter If it's to be, it's up to me, I think I figured that Most y'all started rappin' 'cause you heard that's where the figures at Tryin' to change the game like Three 6 before the Oscars Knowin' I'm poppin' and keep it going, no show-stoppin' I'm more like Vlade in LA, you know, without the floppin' Vintage game but it's all the same, still point droppin' Interview with Ahmad, then hit up Lauryn, get it poppin' It's crazy, she used to stop in, never stay and leave you talkin' Topics I'm okay with sharin' now Before they didn't think about it, guess who carin' now 'Cause they favorite rapper been slackin', I'll go and then put a track in Demolish y'all polished flows that was keepin' they fans attracted I did, don't speak on it, karma keep me repentin' Made mistakes and now my plate look like a big pile of spinach Too strong, had to move on, the city say I'm due on Been at it for some years, we eatin' free without a coupon Your daughter door like Groupon, been off that shit Suggest you go and get a job and try to catch up quick Dealin' with Jazmin last night on some catch up shit She thinkin' I done changin' young and grown up quick, so I split [Hook: Jalen Santoy] Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun and you gon' have to praise the shooter [Verse 4: Rapper Big Pooh] Yeah, it's that joint that make your head nod Rest in peace, Big Pun, this my terror squad Y'all don't want me on your songs, it's the fear of God I remember when they said my verses weren't hard Now what's the motive? I'm tryin' to cop the Lotus Drivin' 'round town, wave my hand like the POTUS Fat boy, larger than life, they all notice When niggas think you on, they linin' up to be your soldiers But bein' broke is like wakin' up with Folgers Turn the lights on, you watchin' roaches I swore I wouldn't change, spent my money on material things Me and my niggas roll tough like we started a gang Fucked a couple broads once, now they callin' to hang Dho told me, "Let 'em be if they don't call you by name" Floor seats, Madison Square, just catchin' the game When they scared to give you props, they just call you a acclaimed — fuck that!