Loaded Lux - Lyrical 300 lyrics

[Intro] And we continue on, William Young, Saigon, Loaded Lux Lyrical 300, is where we hold them This is where we fight, this is where they die [Verse 1] Yow, yow my spirit is unruly, if this was the days of your majesty There be blood on the hands of every man on my calvary Am from Kings County, with my 11th degrees say Vale me and I ain't coming back in the king's hand What is born, everyone of them gimme they mean mug Imma backstroke, covered in nothing but king's blood man I challenge anybody who think that they got talent That's the greatest body, you dump them at Buckingham Palace Them am furious, keep ice grilling is that serious You crying but he's talking, ventriloquist My cell phone keep ringing, am not hearing it Your mistake thinking and am only your rap lyricist Big homie sent me a message to call back But it's name popping up and nothing but smoke caps See a scarecrow, he see me coming and know black Drink his brain out, losing the back of his straw hat Willie Young (Gang up yourself, but take some of those, everything) [Verse 2] Slay they said it was time to eat, so I turn the beat into sandwich meat I put bread on it, these weak n***as can't compete You n***a singing too much, and they got them dancing feet I slap the sh** out of them, if we ever get the chance to meet Am a philosopher that shoot like a photographer But my camera is a hammer, y'all don't want to collide with Ka A colostomy bags, is how you go defecate Always ready, only thing I set is the records straight So go figure, or get punch drunk with no liquor Just a overhand, right and a left vocal constrictor co*k the calibre back, get the work in my magic And I ain't pulling no rat out of the side of no hat F**t...oops, I was politically incorrect For I born for you to take it as literally disrespect My click will be at your neck, you bring my name up The proof is in the pudding, not need I say much But if Blizzie was home, none a you dudes would be rocking these Cubans And y'all be getting called up (called up) If Stack Bundles was still alive, the whole cube battle be screaming (squad up) If Sly Gillie is still alive, Slay still rocking, street sweepers in this b**h Them n***as still popping, say something for their anniversary Don't say nothing, just hand the purse to me (Gang up yourself, but take some of those, everything) [Verse 3] This is the king dosage, the dope is hopeless in the ring open Cutting off the rope and hope, and lead they dreams broken Sting don't it, brief moments I take, they make you seen notice Need knowing, wrote it for the street poet (keep going), the rappers can't survive I don't know, maybe after am alive, I hear you travel when you die Paragraphic am a side with no book full of plastic bag Characters provide, your audacity go round like that The Instagram might miss you, we go post you next picture at you candlelight vigil And I might visit you, or random individuals, they get you a deal Go I bet your wife put it in you, am way nicer than you They hang you in the venue, my name will be continue They got my favorite on the menu, That's work n***a Do it till it hurts, no riddle It's so suspenseful, church gatherings, earth shadowing To dirt patches turn catholic, heard asking what they in for The truth for thought no tin foil, looking at the world pool I need to get my camo, my girl cool She play her role, my favourite soul, could make a home Or flame a stove for when the day get cold O.G in his robe complaining about the cold When that old brown paper bag, money one trader Joe (words unclear) brick on the track (Go take some of those, everything)