Original King
Intro:
Now just you hold on a god damn minute now! Motherfucker hold your eyes up when you're talking talking to me. Don't you know you're in the presence of greatness boy? Original shit. Love to do his thing. You in trouble right now motherfucker.
Verse One:
Yes y'all the flesh and bone season
Veteran, yet it's just my second whole season
Etched in stone one of the best poets breathin'
They don't kick over the respect I don't need 'em
I bring it like it never been brung man
I swing it like it never been swung
I'm second to none
As long as I still got a breath in my lung
Might as well find yourself a place to rest til I'm done
Bless the son, caught a sophomore curse
That mean you waitin' for me cause you love my first
Must have heard hunger and thirst up in the verse
And now wanna bust so much that it hurts
Plus what am I? A flash in the pan?
I fizzle out and stand here, ass in my hand
I ain't that kind of man, I'm attached to my fans
Every track that I smash gotta match their demands
I'm the first to defend you, last to the van
I can't turntables from the wax from my man
I shoot a star out the sky, land in my hand
I'm off to the next one catch me if you can
Amen
Speaking [Brother Ali]:
Not fuckin' around. Been watchin' you motherfuckers scurrin' around and shit. Swear to God you real. You ain't seen shit. You ain't did shit. You bout shit. Hold up.
Verse Two:
I hear tell that I ain't your cup of tea
I fuck with white rappers and you can't fuck with me
I sold my old pistol and don't run the streets
And I ain't got tattoos all up my sleeves
Well
All I can tell you is that I am what I am
How could you not respect one that stand as a man?
Lest you never peek up out your box
You a follower
I don't kiss ass and suck dick, I'm not popular but
If you were real you would recognize me
They don't make them like motherfuckin' Ali
No more
I ain't here to blow my own horn
But it takes a certain person to write those songs
The biggest difference between us
Is unlike them I don't pretend to be no thug
Just a city kid and know how to throw a punch
I'm no stranger to the taste of my own blood
Got you chain and decide to grow nuts
That shit is Golden Girls that ain't golden gloves
Tell 'em Ant
I ain't scrap no more, I'm growed up
Too busy, no free hand to hold a grudge
Told your ass once that my shit is amazin'
Seen me on stage, think it's biscuits and gravy
I spent my young life in the eye of the shit
Don't hate me for anything I ever did
Motherfucker!
Speaking:
I mean come on now. Would you stand at your speaker for a minute? There's nothing wrong with it. There's no holes here. It's you, you're hatin'.
Chorus [x3]:
I live I die, I laugh so that I don't cry
I work hard
I bust my young ass to survive
Ain't no rap video this is real ass life!
Now just you hold on a god damn minute now! Motherfucker hold your eyes up when you're talking talking to me. Don't you know you're in the presence of greatness boy? Original shit. Love to do his thing. You in trouble right now motherfucker.
Verse One:
Yes y'all the flesh and bone season
Veteran, yet it's just my second whole season
Etched in stone one of the best poets breathin'
They don't kick over the respect I don't need 'em
I bring it like it never been brung man
I swing it like it never been swung
I'm second to none
As long as I still got a breath in my lung
Might as well find yourself a place to rest til I'm done
Bless the son, caught a sophomore curse
That mean you waitin' for me cause you love my first
Must have heard hunger and thirst up in the verse
And now wanna bust so much that it hurts
Plus what am I? A flash in the pan?
I fizzle out and stand here, ass in my hand
I ain't that kind of man, I'm attached to my fans
Every track that I smash gotta match their demands
I'm the first to defend you, last to the van
I can't turntables from the wax from my man
I shoot a star out the sky, land in my hand
I'm off to the next one catch me if you can
Amen
Speaking [Brother Ali]:
Not fuckin' around. Been watchin' you motherfuckers scurrin' around and shit. Swear to God you real. You ain't seen shit. You ain't did shit. You bout shit. Hold up.
Verse Two:
I hear tell that I ain't your cup of tea
I fuck with white rappers and you can't fuck with me
I sold my old pistol and don't run the streets
And I ain't got tattoos all up my sleeves
Well
All I can tell you is that I am what I am
How could you not respect one that stand as a man?
Lest you never peek up out your box
You a follower
I don't kiss ass and suck dick, I'm not popular but
If you were real you would recognize me
They don't make them like motherfuckin' Ali
No more
I ain't here to blow my own horn
But it takes a certain person to write those songs
The biggest difference between us
Is unlike them I don't pretend to be no thug
Just a city kid and know how to throw a punch
I'm no stranger to the taste of my own blood
Got you chain and decide to grow nuts
That shit is Golden Girls that ain't golden gloves
Tell 'em Ant
I ain't scrap no more, I'm growed up
Too busy, no free hand to hold a grudge
Told your ass once that my shit is amazin'
Seen me on stage, think it's biscuits and gravy
I spent my young life in the eye of the shit
Don't hate me for anything I ever did
Motherfucker!
Speaking:
I mean come on now. Would you stand at your speaker for a minute? There's nothing wrong with it. There's no holes here. It's you, you're hatin'.
Chorus [x3]:
I live I die, I laugh so that I don't cry
I work hard
I bust my young ass to survive
Ain't no rap video this is real ass life!
Credits
Writer(s): Ali Douglas Newman, Jacob Brain Dutton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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