KXNG Crooked, Joell Ortiz - Almighty lyrics
[KXNG Crooked, Joell Ortiz - Almighty lyrics]
I don't think I ain't got
My ear to the streets
(You know)
I hear the chit chatter
Yaowa
Uh, alrighty, all hail the almighty
Despite all of your false Id
-eologies that occupy the top, you're
Cream of the crops
All slightly
Light in the ass, I'm all lightning
Jab, jab, cross, jab, uppercut, jab, look
I'm all Brooklyn like Zab's hook
My ab took money
Before rap
I was partnering with some bad crooks
Looking like your pops in the face
I had your dad shook
Shorty don't get popped in the face
Or get that ass whooped
Grew up where crack cook
You typing on a apple
I'm from the rotten apple
Different version of how Macs look
Extended clip, diesel like Shaq foot
My rap book
Saved a lot of niggas from that pain I was
Giving out That ten I was dishin' out
Not to crack fiends, I'm talking
About the last scene
Where Kane was just spitting out
Looking up at Stacey, now you gotta stay sit
(Oh)
They say, "You keep playin' with fire
You burn"
Every time I played with fire
I acquired returns on my investment
And lessons you'll be dyin' to learn
Like don't sleep on dishonesty
And lying to earn
Every time I'm on a beat
I treat it like it's my turn
The verdicts out to your
Hearing's adjourned is firm
Put my life in these sentences
It's bars forever
I put scars together, regardless whoever
Your market is better
All you marks mark for death when
I mark up this paper
I'm grade A
Accordin' to legends that's
Markin' my paper
So when you act like you the best
That's awkward behavior
But don't call me the savior
I'm just awesomely favored
When you got rappin' power
You could take half a bar
Off like it's happy hour
(Haha)
My chat devours half you cowards
Please don't pass me
Flowers Till my casket's lowered
Or I'm ashes
Here's a classic Yaowa
We use words like honor, code, loyalty
We use these words as the backbone
Of a life spent defending something
(Yeah)
You use them as a punchline
I grew up where crip signs are threw up
They dressed like suicide bombers
Their clothes blew up
(Get 'em)
My burner is the Star Trek enterprise
The hard tech energize
Lift your whole crew up
(Yo)
You cappin' like Kirk tho, nigga
Where your work go?
Still passin' hoes, 'round the circle, no
One main bitch that'll murk yo
Ass is smashin' the purple turbo porsche
Going berserko
(Stop)
Your body drop while I'm
Knockin' out some features
Going dumb in the booth
Like niggas droppin' outta English after
Sockin' out the teacher
I crocodile my sneakers
I'm flippin' policemen off with Pac
Poppin' out the speakers
(Hail Mary)
I was that poor kid climbin' in your window
Fix me a bowl of cereal
Then I just stole your stereo
Sold that shit on imperial
Fuck with my old material
My bars bring death to your ears
(But you don't hear me tho)
Bust a cap 'cause I'm
Hardcore, double back
That's a encore
Couple mask in a duffel bag and a
Hunnid racks in the car door
Long Beach over bags, niggas got colostomies
Striking up the gang tag
On million dollar property
Get hit with choppers properly
They spit with high velocity
Blast Master Kris shit, this is my philosophy
(Huh)
Dee-dee-dee, dah-dee, dah-dee
Dee-dee, dah-dee
Day
We can get you touch if you in New York or LA
(HARD)
Honor, code, loyalty
My ear to the streets
(You know)
I hear the chit chatter
Yaowa
Uh, alrighty, all hail the almighty
Despite all of your false Id
-eologies that occupy the top, you're
Cream of the crops
All slightly
Light in the ass, I'm all lightning
Jab, jab, cross, jab, uppercut, jab, look
I'm all Brooklyn like Zab's hook
My ab took money
Before rap
I was partnering with some bad crooks
Looking like your pops in the face
I had your dad shook
Shorty don't get popped in the face
Or get that ass whooped
Grew up where crack cook
You typing on a apple
I'm from the rotten apple
Different version of how Macs look
Extended clip, diesel like Shaq foot
My rap book
Saved a lot of niggas from that pain I was
Giving out That ten I was dishin' out
Not to crack fiends, I'm talking
About the last scene
Where Kane was just spitting out
Looking up at Stacey, now you gotta stay sit
(Oh)
They say, "You keep playin' with fire
You burn"
Every time I played with fire
I acquired returns on my investment
And lessons you'll be dyin' to learn
Like don't sleep on dishonesty
And lying to earn
Every time I'm on a beat
I treat it like it's my turn
The verdicts out to your
Hearing's adjourned is firm
Put my life in these sentences
It's bars forever
I put scars together, regardless whoever
Your market is better
All you marks mark for death when
I mark up this paper
I'm grade A
Accordin' to legends that's
Markin' my paper
So when you act like you the best
That's awkward behavior
But don't call me the savior
I'm just awesomely favored
When you got rappin' power
You could take half a bar
Off like it's happy hour
(Haha)
My chat devours half you cowards
Please don't pass me
Flowers Till my casket's lowered
Or I'm ashes
Here's a classic Yaowa
We use words like honor, code, loyalty
We use these words as the backbone
Of a life spent defending something
(Yeah)
You use them as a punchline
I grew up where crip signs are threw up
They dressed like suicide bombers
Their clothes blew up
(Get 'em)
My burner is the Star Trek enterprise
The hard tech energize
Lift your whole crew up
(Yo)
You cappin' like Kirk tho, nigga
Where your work go?
Still passin' hoes, 'round the circle, no
One main bitch that'll murk yo
Ass is smashin' the purple turbo porsche
Going berserko
(Stop)
Your body drop while I'm
Knockin' out some features
Going dumb in the booth
Like niggas droppin' outta English after
Sockin' out the teacher
I crocodile my sneakers
I'm flippin' policemen off with Pac
Poppin' out the speakers
(Hail Mary)
I was that poor kid climbin' in your window
Fix me a bowl of cereal
Then I just stole your stereo
Sold that shit on imperial
Fuck with my old material
My bars bring death to your ears
(But you don't hear me tho)
Bust a cap 'cause I'm
Hardcore, double back
That's a encore
Couple mask in a duffel bag and a
Hunnid racks in the car door
Long Beach over bags, niggas got colostomies
Striking up the gang tag
On million dollar property
Get hit with choppers properly
They spit with high velocity
Blast Master Kris shit, this is my philosophy
(Huh)
Dee-dee-dee, dah-dee, dah-dee
Dee-dee, dah-dee
Day
We can get you touch if you in New York or LA
(HARD)
Honor, code, loyalty