Quadir Lateef - "SUCKA MC's" Kendrick Lamar,Joell Ortiz,Ca**idy and Papoose (Control Response) lyrics

Its a lot of dumb kings in this kingdom Every knee shall bow when the king come Im looking like king Kong Punch you with some pointy a** rings on Murder was case is my theme song A goons to a goblin? n***a whats a king to a klingon? You rappers ain't sh**, bling on So bring on any rappers in yo top five I will pop five, leave em co*ked eye, top fried like some Popeye's n***a not I, I will not lie Cut em like a mock five wit his Tom Ford and his knot tied Y'all better not move till Im finished Take a pool full of liquor throw a molotov in it You a good kid but you mad silly Better ask diddy who the king of the bad city n***a that's biggie Burn any n***a from Top Dog like hot sauce n***as trying to come to NY and get they rocks off J rock soft pull the Soul out of Ab And I school boys too I'm on Q when I blast You the first one who spoke but I'm gonna deal with you last I ain't never been signed I gotta deal with the past Im not even mad at you Kendrick I'm mad at your dad For the times he let you speak without whooping yo a** When you said you was the best and he never would laugh Ao when you come to NY you better ask for a pa** Name a rapper spitting hotter than me, I'll make it harder to breath He in his feelings got his Heart on sleeve One shot makes his artery bleed Then hopping out of the trees to take the life of a party MC Ain't a chic that a part of me need, ain't a block i can't probably bleed Its probable pistols pop at ya knees Papi ran from his seeds now poppy seed get him bread in the streets Until he's k**ed by the beast Now them white folks scared of you, crackers fearing you Negro spiritual, n***as fearing you I'm feel in like pac did even though my pops dead Recite al-fatihah al-qurans that my pops read No pot luck for these pot heads Just pissin in pots until they whipping, shifting, getting the gwop I ain't trippin, finger gripping the Glock Hitting belligerent cops, pay zakat then i pray in jumat You want a war? with a warrior of wars? telling stories of before I'm like denzel in glory with a sword Matter fact like horry on the boards, fresh mauries and velour Turn your home into a morgue with the 4-4 out the ford 4 door Real warlord, drop em from the fourth floor What the phuck you front for you don't really want war, turn that beef to horderves Then i ask em once more, now you sounding unsure Only lyricists i respect is Huey, Malcolm, Assata, Steve bBiko for the people Muhammad, Marcus and Marley, Muhammad Ali and Ghandi You n***as know where to find me in the streets where you either catch aids or catch a homi I know what yall thinking am I better than holmes? You took shots at the beat I'm a predator drone So kendrick you can't defend it ca**idy is after me When slaughter house hear my verse they are gonna ask for me Papoose spat the truth, the homey I got u I blessed every n***a with this track, hatchoo I ain't tryna say I'm the king of New york But after i spit this verse I'm tryna put the king in a hearse!