Big K.R.I.T. - History Remembers Kings lyrics

[Hook:] x2 Hey, when you see me, you should see me on top I'mma get money and this sh** won't stop I always stood as a man, head to the sky 747 so fly And if I die, bury me a legend A king remembered in time, and that's like forever Papa told me, remember one thing little n***a What that is? [Verse 1:] Real n***as in the hood like "we feel you, KRIT" Either you dead or paralyzed not to feel my sh** Or you just a hater, I see it in they eyes More money, more problems, and more lies Haters like flies, can't tell the difference Soon as sh** going down, they diving right in it I'm shining light in it, I'm shining light on 'em I'mma giant where I'm from, I got some height on me I'm married to my money, throw some rice on me If you owe me, pay up, respect my wife homie You coming up short, you know the price homie Next time put it all on your life homie I'm still grinding for that big lick I might sh** on n***as when I get rich Lord forgive me for these harsh gestures But these haters never wanna see you doing better [Hook:] [Verse 2:] Soon as I'm out, they pull me right back into it A lot of prayer and patron how I get through it Look into the eyes of a wounded soldier I'll stop when I die or this movement over It's straight up the gut cause they moving over Sippin' lead (?), got next, and Young Krizzle told ya I got the have-nots on call I don't jump ship, I ride 'til the sails fall off On 'til my whole family boss hog I gotta couple pits (?) I can't call off When I'm chopping down the block whip rimmed up I gotta start dying if I plan to throw this M up Mississippi 'til the d**h of me At this point, I'm the last of a dying breed The last of the Mohicans The last king with his own kingdom [Hook:] [Verse 3:] Father, I got my hand on my pistol Screaming f** the world as I'm looking through my rearview Back to the corner, back to the slum Gorilla warfare, we call it Vietnam I've lost and I've gained and some have done the same Pour out a little liquor for my rest in peace n***as sh** Real playas know the score now Can't do good without a lame acting ho now n***as wanna show out Cause you're getting money That type of sh** they on be Dave Chappelle funny But we don't laugh at these p**y n***as They sell booties, somebody throw cash on these p**y n***as Hold up, yea, I don't think that they heard me homie Suicide door, grain blow (?), call it murder homie I'm tied to the streets and I ain't budgin' 300 little n***a and I'm still thuggin' [Hook:]