Luyện nghe bài hát Underground Kings

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

Rumor has it I'm an underground
All I give a fuck about is
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 house is
I'm standing inside of it
Feelin' inside out as I pop
Watching on TV
In order to get to the TV I had to go through the channels
I don't rock the flannel, I rock the Air Max, Atmos and
They me the Benz owner, I put Lorenzo's on it
Then go and pick a 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, make her in a bra
Let's get it goin', got a in the closet
I'm she enjoyin', I kill verses in return for it
A eulogy is borin', for you to be
I'm a chore and my circle change more than a European
Once the kill has begun, you
I'm the illest, the realest is C, and the trillest is Bun
I'm definitely best at gun rap, gun
I put you on my recipe
I put you on the treadmill less like run that, run that
Detroit nigga, I niggas in general
I deploy niggas to generally niggas' regimes
So rumor has it I'm an king

underground, a number one, I don't get it
I still be in Civics, it's one of my bitcHes', I witH the clip
And I'm known for the stripping, unload I end it
Put ten in a tank, 10 mil' in my bank, I'm real tHan you tHink
Buy a bitcH some High Heels, a small and a sHank
Some wet naps, a little skirt to insert a sHape
I'm in the gun wraps, I say tHem gun raps, I brougHt tHe guns
And sHowin' tats
And I wrote tHis Had every H capped
You know tHem Hoovers 'bout it, 'bout it, I serve
And narcotics, the watcHin', still poppin'
A gang member, pitcHin' rock, every car on the
No antennas, a body, myself and my own Hitta
I'm Top Dawg, you cat
Denied a million tHrougH a text, I'm a nigga
From to the lowest of devils
Spit every bar for the
My to startin' trouble: orange rags
Bucket Hats, even be witH my double
My life is either jail or oxy in my
You lookin' pale and so gon' be for the knockin'
[?] 45, only 3 options
I'm second to none, I 'til I won, gun bigger than Bun
Take more your lung, pop, pop, pop
Convert to a Hearse, get a new top dropped, yawk
Murder music, out of Buicks
Nobody or I squeeze on it
Before I get a crown, I on it

An underground sippin' my lean
You know I my profit because I triple my beam
You niggas with the topics and all this fussin' and arguin'
Ain't it clear to your optics that I go through a squadron?
Cause I'm as violent and vicious as Christians and Christians
On the eve of a Christmas, say we got and sadistic
I'm talkin' tangled and twisted, shit was terror-terrific
We the hubby and kiddies, murdered the dog and the misses
And made the do the dishes, now she sleep with the fishes
Now that sucka dead, I assume my position
In the place, a king, on the is where I'm sittin'
Yeah, the throne is mailed with the metal microphone
Hey, let the rats and the mice know Killer Mike is
Cause Killer is iller all the killas they know
My past is good, I land a rock at my
Before I go, rest in peace to 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 when arguments are settled
get rose petals
That's it, finito, no chatter, the matter
I got bitch, I got some head, she got stilettos
I'm literally a bad mothafucka
[?] my technique, and my a tad butler, mothafucka