Luyện nghe bài hát King (Pt. 1)

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

M-I crooked my
Do it for the south, ya'll
Born and raised where the rebel flag hang the slaves
Grew up where ya'll won't go
Rep that, rep that shit 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
and time again I tried to tell these niggas
Yo what I say to niggas?
on tap dance, do whatever for a sack
Give a lap dance bitch ass
B bop flow up
25 lighters on my dresser, ain't changed
Rollin' in the Hamp's of me pedalin' like a stretcher
So clean you think I been selling cocaine
Light at the end of the
When flexin' it's hard to be humble
fourth down, can't throw the ball to Def Jam
Cause they fumble
that south flow that you can't get
Try to fuck the world but my won't fit
My bitch "KRIT, motherfuck they feelings
You wanna be king, claim that shit"
I'm 'bout off with they heads
you put on a mink, gotta creep down stairs
When you come from the
feet on the snakes would will make clothes out of bails
I playin' no games
I with the future, you follow these lames
I embody the South, the swing, the
The trunk with the bang, the in their mouth

up on the country side of town
Now I'm ballin' city lights
up on the country side 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 side of town

no love in the coliseum
This shit been a bloodsport
Keep what you kill, if they live
Cause everybody out here
been quietly waitin'
Deep in my dungeon, my stomach was rumblin', my was achin'
wanna see a monster
Till they see the monster, the monster out, "What's shakin'?"
I what you thinking, this nigga 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 gone
To rain from the tops
Still blood on the leaves
I don't do it for the blog spot box, I do it for the OGs
And them country folk that can't talk shit
This your curb, don't walk that bitch
This ain't your porch, so off that shit
Go find a and jump off that bitch
If you think that I'm king
I done proved them wrong twice, can't stop my fight
I murder your favorite rapper
And all I get is "No way a Mississippi really that nice!"
Fuck em, fuck em, em, fuck em, fuck em, fuck em
I said it six times cause my pleasure
Say it one more time for just for good measure, em
Raised by the King that me
crept up and still paid dues
I the South, the swang, the bang
The soul and the paint and the