Tom: A minor•
Intro 1
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Verse 1
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hogg Kyleon, and I'm fuckin' with the king
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We bout to drop a fo' in a
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twenty ounce blue cream
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I place the order out in cali. for the p.t.
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We get money while you niggas still asleep,
and a
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F#dim
It's three in the morning,
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in the kitchen cooking oz.s
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Block to bleed, niggas to feed,
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if I drop' em on 12 comin' back 21
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It's 80 sippers out the book,
See my hands is fast,
my cook game raw
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I don't need no pyrex, gimme
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And I whip it to the left,
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whip it to the right
Move it all around till they cook it air tight
Let it dry, pop it out the jar,
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Wrap it up in plastic, straight to the mail
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It's boss hogg Kyleon, nigga Mike D
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Bleeds the block cause I am
the streets
Verse 2
go
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Kyleon and the King of the Ghetto
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Nigga we ain't got no love for you hoes
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All we tryna do is keep collecting dough
Go get it, and come back get
that white as snow
Candied doors,
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yeah they open up and close
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Run up on us bitch you won't
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Cause we will slide yo bitch
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ass across the flo, flo, flo
Verse 3
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I know y'all rappers can't stand
The fact that I'm back fresh outta jail
G#dim
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Also focused on nothin'
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Ain't got no time to waste,
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cause the rap game is damn near dead
Kyleon and the King of the Ghetto,
came to raise rap from it's death bed
Every song they play on
the radio is bullshit homie
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Them niggas got they blow up,
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but we got that good shit homie
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Matter fact you might even overdose
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I should been known to be a killa,
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but a bitch killa I never was not
I've always kept it real,
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even when everybody around me was fake
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They don't make like me no more,
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my kind don't break under pressure
It's death before dishonor nigga
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So that means before a rat,
like mickey mouse
I'll be another job for the grave digger
I ain't going back behind
the fences with the razors
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If I'm locked up in the penitentiary,
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I can't make no paper
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was the last time I'm ever gone be in
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Instead of a 5 by 6 cell then a big brick home,
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that's what I
live in
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Verse 4
[Chorus: x2]
[Z- Ro:]
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Now every time I ride,
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I got a pistol on my side
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Screwed Up Click until it's
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Dm
over on the Southside
I keep my mind on my money,
and money on my mind
I ain't got no time no play,
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I'm on a 24 hour grind
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Haters wanna see me fallin'
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They hatin' cause when they
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Dig these blues, if you jack me,
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I'm jacking you back
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my clothes,
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I keep my hand on my strap
Verse 5
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See I'm somethin' like a playa,
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Gangsta strut on when when I limp like this
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Is re- turn of rapper slash
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E
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the hood fella
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Lookin' for a rap to get my
groove back like Stella
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Still got a sack of that A- 1 good yella
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to rock up out fellas
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Hit me on the cella,
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ain't a damn thang change
Yeah, (you know me) nigga I'm still
the drank man
Outro 1
[Chorus: x2]
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