Big Ghost LTD, Conway The Machine, Knowledge The Pirate - Sons of Kings lyrics

Yeah brrr
Yeah

You niggas rock anything and you call it drip
She come and do anything for me
I call your bitch (Come here, bitch)
You niggas sell anything and you call it fish
(Hah) we don't have nothing in common if
You never bought a brick (Not at all)
DA tryna make them RICO charges stick
We good money over here
We just made the lawyer rich
(We good, nigga)
Baguette AP, I got a gorgeous wrist
I took all the risks
My dawg shot two niggas and
Got deported back to Port-au-Prince
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
We gettin' bags, but there's more to get
I started a record label
I've been on some corporate shit
Nigga own several properties
We got mortgages
I could still have a nigga run down on you
Dump the 40 clip (Brr, brr)
I don't understand how a nigga
Broke and he forty-six
But always run his dicksuckers about
How he was extortin' shit (Fuck outta here)
That's cap, you ain't extortin' shit
Buck fifty on my watch
Rockin' this Louis V imported shit, Machine
Bitch (It's the Machine)

I know they fear the god, DB
Not Aston Martin dripped in Fear of God, big
Gun like Pun, yeah, we the Terror Squad
Sometimes I feel like Nipsey
Hussle in a marathon
These niggas out here runnin' around
In a rat race
How many kitchen chefs and fish
Scales in that trap house?
You on the internet with
Them bitches gettin' catfished
See me mobbin', ridin' through Harlem, nigga
And what?
Any problem we let that MAC spit, rrrah
When the MAC spit, he got hit
Blood was drippin' all on his
Brand new Gucci sweatsuit
Don't become a RIP t-shirt or a tattoo
Gloves and masks
(Word) , hockey stick when they slide through
Post your death on IG
Let 'em watch it like a drive-through
Write a song about it then
Download the shit on iTunes on my Scarface
Incarcerated niggas with war wounds
Hold your head, son, you'll be home soon
Pirate