King Los

Pay Up
(Intro) It ain’t just about the money It’s nothing Ayo what it’s about? It’s about fuckin those skeezers like that right there ‘Cause if I’m sorry you fly ass clothes And it’s never gonna be about nothing Told you bout a nigga like me (Verse) Hey yo that shit it's getting critical You niggas getting pitiful Thinking minuscule I think they think I'm in the school No, I’m in the school and these foolish niggas who bend the rules If you don’t want the ceiling to cave in you gotta bend the roof Bend the truth to make a straight liar out of crooked nigga In my hood and BK’s buckin but I ain’t a Brooklyn nigga Look here nigga You girl look here ‘cause this the look here nigga It's magic You get no looks here nigga No, it's magic You get no looks, here nigga The pebble’s in the pond, only on yo first ripple I’m Jordan’s first dribble, Larry Burr’s first triple Letras de cancionesI beyond you niggas, a bionic rider I’m tiger with the ion, the eye on the tiger An icon nigga, hickin on the sun Snappin early like I told my niggas, hike it on the on, hut And before you get a hut 2 I’ll hunt you down and even show em that you’re hut too Speaking of hustle, your bitch just get to the loose balls Took er to see Jaws 2 and she gave me them 2 jaws But my man gave me them 2 jobs The purple that had us doin circles like we in new cars I planted a bomb, I’m bout to bomb planets My plan is for you niggas to go into a calm panic Lyrical arm bandit, bombs get yo arms bandaged One palm, planning to get your whole arm handed Back to you then bitch I get bad to you As I’m bad to it in that Maybach and I back through you You ain’t bad as me, I’m bad for you and bad to you Chop you in half nigga, you’ll happen to have to you While having it happen to you Do you have it at all? I’m stabbing your doll and I don’t mean crackers and black voodoo I’m that doodoo, matter of fact I’m a rap guru You crap poopoo, whack gugu, I rap coocoo Who are you? Just a nigga, I got a pryor part And black on your track like tire marks Attired mark, nigga I don’t buy your heart You should go and buy a heart, try to spark a fire start – er And throw your book in the fireplace Retired grace, fully bully, back in his cage Packin the mack in the back of the get How dirty sick this miraculous shit that happened to him? Having them hits Happy to shit on them rappers that bitch Choppin you bitch, grappin them bricks, we’ll hustle nigga Just hustle harder than other niggas ‘Cause I’m for the niggas This just don’t make above it nigga Yea, I love my niggas They might fuck you bummy rat You know, when we with yo pool we never 100 back, whoa No, homie don’t say that We whistling in the air, homie don’t play that Way back when I was at bumpin punch shit Catchin every pun ‘cause cannabis had dumb flips Eminem killed Dre and Kim and his raps It was written, was my favorite, I slayed it to my flat rhyme for buffy And that nigga gave me a deal Then the feds came along and damn near gave me the chills ‘Cause they took all my niggas, my niggas took to the streets They our studio from us, they took my hooks and my beats But now I’m hooked, I’m a beast And I’m back and I’m better I was becoming the king, now I’m back for the cheddar Pay up. From Letras Mania