CunninLynguists - K.K.K.Y. lyrics

(Natti) Don't worry about this dirty south til its mud floods ya front stoop Acres and acres of haters growing out the same root That hit you quicker than poverty in two major arteries Havin you movin and softshoe-in like who made you property (Deacon) Black face and sambos, that are tied for last place Let facts state, we like Wildcats in a rat race At that rate, the state stay ahead of tomorrow Standing out like Mount Kilimanjaro (Natti) So through this Bluegra** follow sorrow Blacker then the ghetto you fear You disappear like the future of the ghetto you near Where index fingers bring the heavy metal you hear Block stars loading guns as fiends battle for crumbs (Deacon) Come travel through slums, try politickin with the pushas Made block decisions, while mothaf**as overlooked us Under the radar like helicopters on the sly Crept in with hoods on, it's KKKY (hook) KKKY, more then what you think it is Ain't just tobacco, some bourbon and where horse racin live This is for my Malt Makers, I keep my flask tipped Live where the gra** crip, steppin with my blood (x2) (Natti) Don't try to play Mike Vick and stick a dog in this fight Ya art of loud bark don't veto your mosquitoish bite The MC's too dark, the producer too white Found the lyrics too loose, man the beats is too tight (Deacon) Man, we parry blows, we bury foes through stereos Keep an aerial view over scenarios Some n***az, that move spirits like a liquor store AA, after 12 steps you back to get some more (Natti) Makers of Woodford Reserve that curve ya nerves We country, coming with fists while you armed with words Field n***a brand hands that'll slap you to sleep From the land of hard liquor and tobacco that's cheap (Deacon) We rose like Lazarus, some miraculous feat Put soul in it gave what's left back to the streets (Natti) But we all artists regardless of the art is in speech Close kin, make notes bend tryna find a release from this (hook) KKKY, more then what you think it is Ain't just tobacco, some bourbon and where horse racin live This is for my Malt Makers, I keep my flask tipped Live where the gra** crip, steppin with my blood (x2)