KiddDaLegend - The Movement lyrics

[Starts at 00:14] A'ight, 6 minutes? Let's go… K-I-DD D-A L-E-G-E-N-D/ Legendary when I speak/ Hereditary, the throne is what I bleed/ Only one of us gon' make it in this door, you or me?/ Take a shovel to your temple, make scrambled eggs outcha meat/ Get it poppin' more than poppy seeds, then wash away; make it neat/ This be the cleanest getaway since Black Monday in '03/ I mean '05; pardon me, kind of hard to believe/ It's been 5 years since I began chopping with the guillotine/ Heads get severed, fall off into the abyss, the netherrealm I mean/ Help me plea insanity, for the sake of humanity/ Or anybody left on this planet that recognizes a beast/ An eater of words, worlds, dictionaries, and galaxies/ Like a universal switch on a keyboard, paradigm shift/ I just, devour rappers as a whole then self-Heimlich/ Guerrero, Jack, and Hannibal; I'm fiendin' for some flesh to rip/ Yet again, I believe in being self-preserved to eat at will/ Like Pursuit of Happyness, as if Chris Gardner didn't get a meal/ This is real, tis the season the reason I've come to k**/ Somewhat ill? All the way, full-on like I got the condom on – still/ I'm in that backpack group, with Maybach music, poppin' a pill/ Sorry, I'm just filled – jelly doughnut – with all types of emotions/ I describe my mindstate with emojicons; naw, I'm not jokin'/ Above the game right now in a device made for water; I'm floatin'/ Jerry Sloane, little bit of cologne, egg sandwich then I'm gone/ Everyday, I echo my name like I'm behind prison walls/ In a shallow and narrow hall, the fame I don't promote at all/ I don't condone male enhancement, women do that for us dawg/ If you can't get it up, that means you just sh** outta luck/ I look forward to pleasing women, that's the only way I give a f**/ What she say, do, and feel; she'll eventually give it up/ Lyrics loaded in a six-shooter, and the chamber never gets stuck/ Blow ya face off before you finish the sentence like, "Motherfu--" (BLAO!)/ Westside, or Northwest to be exact/ Dudes re-enacting everything they see on TV, one-mind track/ Full fracture, two-six or six-deuce, move captions/ 'Cuz I turned them on my television, tryna catchup on the action/ Use ketchup on my sandwich, relish on my Manwich, mayo for tartar sauce/ If I continue to spill bars, Rap's the new Holocaust/ Whole bodies in the holes where bodies get dumped like ma** graves/ Pencils, pens, and microphones get trashed like a bad taste/ Spoiled milk, rotten eggs, dirty money, and filthy laundry, ayy/ Handstands for the ones that got the stick-up/ Kick game is weak but the flow is buried in cake son/ Not even talkin' 'bout money, I'm sayin' the flow is sweeter than cajun/ You should see how opposites attract when I magnify these raps/ Pencil, pen, nor keyboard is safe when I commence an attack/ Kidd DA Legend, tryin' to stick to facts/ Always keep it G when it comes to them stacks/ Funny, 'cuz that money I won't ever see/ n***as lookin' straight with two humps, that's the letter B/ Let it be, that I can see she want that 'D' like a graded paper/ With multiple errors, your E's like F's, you failed even greater/ G sh** is what you claim, but them Gators say you a hater/ Host the series as whole like a sitcom/ "How I Met Your Mother"'s in my favor/ I play the game and I've majored, in Jumbotronics/ Meaning I get the club shaking when they see the screenplay/ But the lyrics scream at the juxtaposers trynna take the place/ Of the forever king that reigns on 'em the wrath, that rains on 'em/ I pa**, like the J's over in my spot/ I k** like a hotshot, no golf but a hotspot/ No Wi-Fi, but I knock, over heads like the Domino Effect/ Just stay outta my blind spot, Lord knows who might be next/ //////////////////