King Los - You Be k**in' Em lyrics

Never been a woulda coulda shoulda man My sh** is fab'lous de-de-de-de-de-de-damn, There's a lot of b**h n***as actin' fly now You on the ground n***a I jus' brought the sky down, Need sum diamonds in your watch you could borrow mine That's a reminder y'all n***as "on borrowed time", And I'm feelin' big everybody smaller den me, So they lookin' up to me even if they taller den me, Ye ain't never live a word of what your mouth speakin', Your whole sh** made up n***a house keepin', My money stack not a funny cat worry me I hand out a** whoopings with money back guarantees, Apparently you get hype and play roles You talk like a pimp, but you wife and pay hoes, I'm 'bout 8 months from that white and grey Rolls, Russel sweatsuit with the Breitling face froze In them Reebok cla**ics white and grey soles Holding my nuts doing my best Michael J pose, Hope you like to take notes cause you sloppy I'm perfect So the best that you could ever do is copy my worst sh**, Your hearse flip from what I'm loading in the gage So ye ain't gotta wait to roll over in your grave, Cavalii shades, fresh fade, Gucci link on Front row at the fight light, Lukki with the mink on And my girl go harder than six Compton b**hes, Red bottoms on look like she been stompin' b**hes, Yea we gettin' them amounts you will never see I got a brick o' swag for every ounce of your jealousy, From what they tellin' me, I seem to be the man, A boutique boy that cop sneakers in Japan Lampin' on the island jus' to see a decent tan So have my money in total -- "Kima Keisha Pam", All this ice on my wrist that's a risk factor You wouldn't need this much ice for a wrist fracture, And roll wit a clique full a chick snatchers So we didn't really want your b**h it was just practice... I flick ashes off a yacht deck All I do is come to a chin like a mock neck, Stop that I'm from a hood where they never smile n***as make that tre pop like Kevin Liles, My city never blink they be thinkin' cash And stay clappin' on a n***a like Pinky a**, That thing flash they snatch chains and karats Gettin' that dirty money no 'Last Train to Paris' So to all you rap lames and other s**as I bet this Mack Maine'll leave you in the Gudda Gudda, Motherf**er spend a day in these streets and see n***as'll do the 'Unthinkable' for at least a key Uhhh and as soon as them feds swing through They Draked on you damn I ain't know you sing too, King who? Run what? We can all a**ume You got knocked cause all your goons use Autotune Meanwhile I Lebron ball, John Wall, Give me the mic I give 'em the light Sean Paul Haters stay tuned I got a lot of sh** in store Best to ever do it next stop bidding war...