Luyện nghe bài hát Underground Kings

I'm an
I'm, I'm an

Rumor has it I'm an king
All I give a fuck is money
And when I got it, I don't a fuck about it
It's outlandish, I take for granted what God
My countertop granite, my is outstanding
While I'm standing of it
Feelin' out as I pop Xanax
myself on TV
In order to get to the TV I had to go through the channels
I don't the flannel, I rock the Air Max, Atmos and camo
They call me the Benz owner, I put on it
go and pick a chick up, bone it and friend zone her
Soon as I see her wake up, I be her raw
If she a B or an A cup, her fuck in a bra
Let's get it goin', got a dyke in the
I'm sure she enjoyin', I verses in return for it
A eulogy is borin', for you to be
I'm a chore and my circle change more than a coin
Once the kill has begun, you
I'm the illest, the is Pimp C, and the trillest is Bun
I'm definitely best at gun rap, gun
I put you on my list
I put you on the treadmill accessory less run that, run that
Detroit nigga, I destroy in general
I deploy to generally destroy niggas' regimes
So has it I'm an underground king

From underground, a number one, I get it
I be in Civics, it's one of my bitcHes', I grew witH the clip
And I'm for the stripping, unload 'til I end it
Put ten in a tank, 10 mil' in my bank, I'm more real tHan you
Buy a bitcH some Heels, a small purse and a sHank
Some wet naps, a little skirt to insert tHrough a
I'm in the gun wraps, I say gun raps, I brougHt tHe guns back
And gang tats
And wHen I tHis Had every H capped
You know tHem Hoovers 'bout it, 'bout it, I serve
And narcotics, the cops watcHin', still
A gang member, pitcHin' rock, every car on the
No antennas, a body, myself and my own Hitta
I'm Top Dawg, you cat
a million tHrougH a text, I'm a real nigga
From Heaven to the lowest of
Spit bar for the rebels
My wardrobe to startin' trouble: orange
Bucket Hats, even be my stunt double
My is either jail or oxy in my cotton
You lookin' pale and so it's gon' be for the
[?] 45, it's 3 options
I'm second to none, I shoot I won, gun bigger than Bun
Take tHan your lung, pop, pop, pop
Convert to a Hearse, get a new top dropped, yawk
Murder music, out of Buicks
Nobody movin' or I on it
I get a crown, I bleed on it

An underground king sippin' my
You know I my profit because I triple my beam
You niggas stop the topics and all this fussin' and arguin'
Ain't it clear to optics that I would go through a squadron?
I'm as violent and vicious as killin' Christians and Christians
On the eve of a Christmas, say we got and sadistic
I'm talkin' tangled and twisted, this was terror-terrific
We killed the and kiddies, murdered the dog and the misses
And made the maid do the dishes, now she sleep the fishes
Now that rapper's dead, I assume my position
In the place, a king, on the throne is I'm sittin'
Yeah, the iron throne is mailed with the microphone
Hey, let the and the mice know Killer Mike is home
Cause is iller than all the killas they know
My past is good, I land a at my show
I go, rest in peace to Dilla fosho
Slum lord a mic cord in a slum village on a slum tour
Through every I carry the heavy metal
Just in case a shovel is needed when arguments are
get rose petals
That's it, finito, no chatter, the matter
I got your bitch, I got some head, she got
Lyrically I'm literally a bad
[?] my technique, and my a tad butler, mothafucka