Текст пісні Black Kings - Sauce Walka, Babyface Ray

Black Kings - Sauce Walka, Babyface Ray
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Дата випуску: 22.12.2022
Вікові обмеження: 18+
Мова пісні: Англійська

Black Kings

This shit real, nigga
I don’t know about if it is for you, but I know about me
It’s rainin', he lookin' at the ghetto from out the window pane
His brother died, and this young nigga can’t even feel no pain
Is he gon' ride, or is he gon' live in the hood with all the shame?
Is he gon' slide, strap his cleats on when he ain’t even in the game?
But that’s what it is when you born up in the field
Ain’t no flowers or daffodils, just some animals strapped to kill
All the youngsters slappin' youngins at school, they strapped for meals
Niggas thinkin' he bullyin' on him for size, but he starved for real
Ain’t no dinner after eighth period
See, in my ghetto, that hot plate after school is really serious
I knew a nigga went All-American, he was really near
He got shot in a drive-by, now his whole family fears
No Hall of Fame, just hall of tears in a hospital
This where the clips be really big, but all the Glocks little
They loadin' bullets in their vans, callin' them cop killers
It’s Armageddon on my block, nigga
All this chasin' shmoney, it done turned me to a hot nigga
Crib look like a school, my neighbor’s white, it got a fox in it
I’ma keep it trill and spill the real, you know I’m authentic
Exotic sodas, feelin' so scented
Ay, keep your head up when it’s low because the table’s turned
Wait your turn, I was fucked up, now that money burned
I seen the closest turn they back about the shit I earned
I’m standin' firm, ten toes, say one word, your bitch gone
Money long, my clips long
If I put my hoes together, I might need a limo
Smallest town, sellin' girl
Mama think I pimp hoes, know I keep that shit on
Woke up late, sippin' syrup, put my kit on
Ridin' foreign, came a long way from the rental
Cartier vision, I see it clear, ain’t no trickin' me
Galleria, I fuck off a bag, that ain’t shit to me
I done made my dreams real life, they keep pinchin' me
Nah, for real, this my real life, speak it vividly
I done made a million out of pimpin', ain’t no simp in me
I done snapped my fingers and turned the nigga into history
Martin Luther King had a whole dream for this white bitch with me
Malcom X choppa at the window, let these niggas see
Designer tings, I jump out and drip and I’m a kitchen sink
Designer jeans, these Evisus, my legs is Japanese
Rapper, please, I’ve been countin' up bitch money since I was seventeen
When Jordan was still winnin' rings, I was a kid at the park pimpin' swings
We Black Kings (Yeah, no cap)
We Black Kings, yeah, fuck you mean, still sippin' lean

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Тексти пісень виконавця: Sauce Walka
Тексти пісень виконавця: Babyface Ray