Lute - Kings lyrics

[Verse 1: Novej] I hail from Freedom Hill, on my feet, I stand And what used to be Fila's and Reebok's, damn I would meet you at the weed spot where we got grams Enough, Doc couldn't detox, so need I plan To squeeze off, man, if we not fam And let them die for ever trying to calcify my penile gland Yeah, they rap like fajitas but chica's fan of whose Getting more play like the east side band, ya heard She likes diction, a lot of words Non-fiction, a bad boy pissed and who fly the bird If he's a Christian, what is this, he got the Earth 93 million miles away, Glock in her purse Ahk' got the nerve, yeah, I know I ought to serve Everybody looking for a fix, if I got the work This is not a curse, chip on my collared shirt Bless manifest my destiny, yep, without the church Amen, whose son is making a living Done chasing the chicken but stashed cake in the kitchen Some hated we kick it, these bums basically sickened Not a part of my body, God, too big for tripping, huh My alibi, tell them I was high when you seen me Resurrect Malcolm X, raise my Kundalini Genocide couldn't pry me out the black beanie Still tapped the bottle of Moscato, watch the genie [Hook: Jalen Santoy] Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter [Verse 2: Lute] While YouTube got n***as fooled f** the neh-neh, I'm just trying to get a [?] free like Cinque Whole lot of followers, a lot less leading When y'all n***as gonna realize you can't hashtag freedom Hashtag free my n***a when you know he did it Make us like ignorant, don't air his business As a culture, now we back where we started, all over While n***as in the club predict rain like Al Roker I'm just trying to get us on track like locomotives Touch your soul, like what's the motive I just hope you remain focused on what the goal is God body, young Marcus Garvey, my mama said Hood's prophet, I'm hood's topic 2 years later, I still got it, f** the street cred In the '86 Cutla** bumping Jeezy Holler at your boy if you ever need me Cause I'm gone, maybe off the liquor Or maybe in the '86 Caprice with a lift kit Either way it goes, I'm lifted While n***as iced out to the T like they Lipton Dumbing down their lyrics just to get some recognition I'll be in the booth like Craig Mack kicking flavor in your system Uh, or better yet, your eardrum f** the metaphors, hope the truth make you listen [Hook: Jalen Santoy] Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter x4 Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter x4 Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter x4 Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter x4 [Verse 3: Jalen Santoy] Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praising Gandhi, you gon' have to praise the shooter So hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praising Gandhi, you gon' have to praise the shooter If it's to being self to me, I think I figure that Most y'all started rapping cause you thought that's where the figures at Try to change the game like Three 6 before the Oscars Knowing I'm popping and keep it going, no show-stopping I'm more like Vlade in LA, you know, without the flopping Been in game but it's all the same, still point dropping In the view of the mind and hit up Lauryn, get it popping It's crazy, she used to stop and never stay and leave you talking Topics I'm okay with sharing now Before they didn't think about it, guess who's caring now Because their favorite rapper been slacking, I'll go and then put a track in Demolish y'all polished flows that was keeping their fans attracted And I dig, don't speak on it, karma keep me repenting Made mistakes and now my plate look like a big pile of spinach Too strong, had to move on, the city say I'm due, uh Been at it for some years, we eating free without a coupon Y'all daughter joined like Groupon, been off that sh** Suggest you go and get a job and try to catch up quick Dealing with Jasmine last night on some catch up sh** She thinking I done changed, I'm young and grown up quick So I split [Hook: Jalen Santoy] Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter x4 Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter x4 Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter x4 Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah Praise the gun you gon' have to praise the shooter x4 [Verse 4: Rapper Big Pooh] Yeah, it's that joint that make your head nod Rest in peace, Big Pun, this my terror squad You don't want me on your songs, it's the fear of God I remember when they said my verses wasn't hard Now what's the motive, I'm trying to cop the Lotus Driving around town, wave my hand like the POTUS Fat boy, larger than life, they all notice When n***as think you on, they lining up to be your soldiers But being broke is like waking up with Folgers Turn the lights on, we watching roaches I swore I wouldn't change, spent my money on material things Me and my n***as roll tough like we started a gang f**ed a couple broads once, now they calling to hang Dho told me let them be if they don't call you by name Floor seats, Madison Square, just catching the game When they scared to give you props, they just call you a [?] f** that