AZLYRICS: Crooked I – Kxng Lyrics


Yeah take a look at me and see a titan on the throne
Me and my niggas we keep a bad bitch, bitin’ on the bone
Hold up though, what you little niggas out here writin’ on the song
Hella pathetic with telekinetics start thinking with the lines then pen’s writing on it’s own
The Jedi order, I mastered this shit, a Jedi warrior
Yet I warn you, I’ma be keeping one eye on you like an insomniac nigga with a dead eye
How much you wanna bet I hoard the illest chicks alive
I had a dream I was playing footsies with a girlfriend tootsies
So I walk up out the bed I order
A ticket for Florida
She a red-eye border now
I’m rubbin’ the clit she suckin’ the dick
Whose pussy is this?
Man, I don’t even needa ask
But that’s as far as I’ma go though
I’ma let you freaky niggas part of black Twitter eat her ass
I’m gettin’ back to the grind
Probably thought I went to Kinko’s just to send you this song
So many facts in the rhymes, Crooked I’s back in his prime
But nowadays they call me the king

K X N G though
The X is a Roman numeral
For ten, I’m ten times better than I’ve ever been

Six is an embryo
Even before then, the Greek historian Heroditus
He let history know
The face of the sphinx, the drawing on the pyramids walls, was all of this negro?

I’m a motherfucking king
All hail, you can hate on me and I’ma wish ya’ll well
‘Cause on the stairway to heaven I saw hell
Did it all with my C.O.B. cartel
The way I be rockin’ bells, I should call L
And I don’t want problems at all
But if the beef poppin’ the streets we would start beat boxing {b-tuh-tuh b-tuh tuh b-tuh tuh brah-zell}
I don’t understand the mentality of niggas who want to randomly challenge me in abandoned reality
All the manic and mad in me ’cause I won’t hand them a salary
Demanding me to give them what’s mine
You outta your mind, thinking you could fuck with the family
Nigga that has to be insanity
You understanding me, I’m Amityville mixed with Mr. Hannibal Lecter packing a hammer to shatter you
Get it poppin’ like Shabadoo
Get your wig peeled get your face on the windshield gotta grab you off the glass like an alley-oop
Do the shin burn rubber in the Caddy-Coup
Cali boys, we don’t like you rap stars
But we do like jewelry and fast cars
I’d rather fill this room full of hoes
Chill and forget about twelve of my last bars

K X N G though
The X is a Roman numeral
For ten, I’m ten times better than I’ve ever been

In a room full of rappers I be the elephant
Hellephant in the room ’cause nobody wanna mention that I been one of the best on the west
Since I touched down on Kurupt’s album
Tha Streetz Is a Mutha
Motherfuckers that’s one thousand

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published.