BeatKing - Don King lyrics

Keke already warned me that
Bitches ain't shit
DJ Screw in my cup and your bitch on my dick
And my dick by my pistol
Pocket full of issues
Studewood I rep that eight in my clique too
Fat nigga, 6'2 got all the hoes, this true
Fuck your bitch send her back
To as to kiss you bitch my flow sick fluid
15's in my fucking trunk
C3E run the fucking city
I don't see no fucking comp
Feeding rap over this beat like
Keke did in '96 my lines sick
VIP Club with a fine bitch
Talk down and meet me street sweeper
Control of the needed people
Flow eat people, Hannibal
Yella bitches on my dick
Now where was your four years ago
When I was in the Buick going through it
Now they call me baby like I'm in a stroller
They know I got my door up
They smile when I roll up club God bitch
The whole clubb screaming hold up
When my clique we shine harder than six suns
Fucked your bitch the first night
She made you wait six months
We don't love these hoes like
We don't love these laws
Ridin' round in these new white cop car

This is some grey tape shit, some 288 shit
Ferrari look like a genesis
My slab look like a spaceship
Balling like I'm Mason bad bitches chasin'
Fuck niggas talk shit on twitter
But they don't wanna face him
My show are yellow taped in
Studewood embracin'
Bad bitches all the way up to
Niggas in the state pen
Keke said I was killin' these clubs
And respects what he sees
I told him a beat he can't get for free
Cause he's a legend to me
Shootout to the SUC from Pokey to ESG
Talk down get your ass beat like a VST
That Glock 40 black like a PS3
Studewood on my back like tee
Got your bitch in my hotel room
Sippin' purple

Freestyle no rehearsal
Bitch I'm the king at this
Nut in your bitch face and
Ain't seen her since
Club God all I do is fuck hoes and eat Dennys
Got three freaks with men you don't like that
You can eat semi baow

Peepin' in my window, month of December
3am freestyle on, got these hoes on my zipper
Scrollin' through my twitter
Lookin' for a flipper
If she got a weak mind
Then I prolly pimp her
Rock out with my dick out like I'm Stiffler
Yella bitch got three yellow friends
Look like the Simpsons
My two year old hollin' while I'm freestylin'
But, I'm still fly (G til the day that I die)

Got to be a G, one of the realest in it
Niggas like to see you grindin'
But niggas don't like to see you winnin'
Them same hoes from highschool that told
Me and Carter was wack
They all in the clubs 09 all them bitches fat
Inhale or debreath a fail
I pay all my momma's bills and
I get checks in the mail
Get sex in hotels all over the country
To say hold up and grab my dick
These promoters pay me money
Haters can't grip that
So I sit back and think
Back when I had that shirt
Walking around with headphones listen to
All my beats at work
Tryna come up with a plan
For me and C3E and it worked
Everybody that ever said I couldn't do shit
Ain't shit now
And they forgot what they said
But the shit they said is
Forever up in my head
And I use that shit today and
To the day that I'm dead