Luyện nghe bài hát King (Pt. 1)

Grew up on the side of town
Now I'm ballin' under lights
Grew up on the country of town
Now I'm ballin' city lights
of the south, king of the south, king of the south
King of the south, king of the south, king of the
Grew up on the country of town

M-I crooked my
Do it for the south, know
Born and raised where the rebel hang from the slaves
Grew up where ya'll niggas go
Rep that, rep shit like I own it
I did it big for my fam and my
I got the biggest house on my block, foreign with the
For the times I was out here homeless, God
Time and time again I tried to tell niggas
Yo what I say to these
on tap dance, do whatever for a sack
Give a lap dance ass nigga
B bop coke up
25 lighters on my dresser, ain't shit
in the Hamp's image of me pedalin' like a stretcher
So clean you think I been selling cocaine
at the end of the tunnel
When you're flexin' it's hard to be
Talkin' fourth down, can't the ball to Def Jam
they might fumble
Kick that south flow that you get
Try to fuck the world but my dick fit
My bitch like "KRIT, they feelings
You wanna be king, claim that shit"
I'm talkin' 'bout off they heads
When you put on a mink, gotta creep down
When you come the country
Your on the snakes would will make clothes out of bails
I ain't no games
I leave with the future, you follow lames
I the South, the swing, the grain
The trunk with the bang, the in their mouth

Grew up on the country side of
Now I'm ballin' city lights
Grew up on the country side of
Now I'm ballin' under lights
King of the south, king of the south, of the south
King of the south, of the south, king of the south
Grew up on the country of town

no love in the coliseum
This shit here been a
what you kill, fuck if they live
Cause everybody out cutthroat
I've quietly waitin'
Deep in my dungeon, my was rumblin', my belly was achin'
Everybody wanna see a
Till see the monster, the monster holla out, "What's shakin'?"
I know what you thinking, this shit, must not be stankin'
He must not know at all
Titans collide on the to survive
If not me bitch, who the fuck you call?
To rain from the mountain
blood stains on the leaves
I do it for the blog spot comment box, I do it for the OGs
And them country folk that can't talk shit
This ain't your curb, don't that bitch
ain't your porch, so keep off that shit
Go a cliff and jump off that bitch
If you think that I'm king
I done proved them like twice, can't stop my fight
I could murder favorite rapper
And all I get is "No way a Mississippi really that nice!"
Fuck em, fuck em, fuck em, fuck em, fuck em, em
I said it six times it's my pleasure
Say it one more time for just for measure, fuck em
Raised by the King that me
Slowly up and still paid dues
I embody the South, the swang, the
The soul and the and the blues