KXNG Crooked, Joell Ortiz, MRK SX - H.A.R.D lyrics

We met each other on a magazine cover
It's like God told us we
Had to be brothers in this rap music
Never fuckin' with beat makers,  just the
(Heatmakerz) we makin' (Crack music)
All hail the king, I'm back
This time around I'm coming to get it all
Bigger in the hood than Fentanyl
Yeah, I'm killin' y'all
Porsche with the ceilin' off
Pink blacker than the skin of Senegal
I'm night crawling like Jake Gyllenhaal
All independent though
But, you can't tell by the
Way I'm spendin' though
Out here talkin' slick as the kitchen floor
Y'all rock aluminum cans
Your jewelry's Michelob
Mine got 'em green with envy
These niggas Piccolo pick a flow
I smack a rapper with a lyric that'll hit 'em
Harder than that nigga Riddick Bowe, then go
Go and let critics know
Crooked came up on food stamps
He knew he'd be a champ
Now the Louis V is stamped on my boot clamp
Bitches know, they wave when I smash past
Try to flag me down like
The Star-Spangle at half mast
My money was young, I didn't have cash
Now I'm like the comedian headlining: I
Knew I'd get the last laugh really though

I've been way too humble for way too long
And I think it's time you know what
It takes me to sing these songs
Sometimes I just wanna take my
Ball and go home
'Cause if I want it bad enough
I might have to go alone really though

Yeah, brother, been a ride since that cover
From the hood to seeing the
Whole world with one another
With two other motherfuckers among
Us: the four sluggers
To this day we break the internet
We talk to each other
Maybe one day we'll reunite at Coachella
Till then it's just me and my dawg
Ol' Yeller joell is just a fresh pawn teller
From the 'jects with dope sellers
War vests and chrome metal
Would ejecto whole melons
Was a mess in front of the buildin'
I'm mindin' my business
Bumpin' that Audio Two
Sippin' my Yoo hoo milk, I was chillin'
Buffalo hat top billin', man, give me credit
I survived in a era where
Starter would get you ended
It was cool to get love but
Still move with your snub
'Cause that 8 ball'll have you
Playin' pool full of blood fast forward
Just bought a billiard room in a club
Chalk it up to how I still be
In these booze with the drugs the Yaowa
Like the most potent, sour, diesel flower
Crushed with the cocoa leaf
Man, that's a high powered powder
Like how the fuck can the sound
Of me have you both
Down and up together like the
Staircase I came outta
I amounted to more than any
Coward fingers could count up
I got bullets for haters and
A trigger for doubters
Two Sig Sauers become a headache
They'll leave you right over the counter near
All the sunflower seeds, Sour Powers
And Now and Laters now the neighbors wave
They see me come down the block
I 'member my shop teacher telling
Me stop with the beatbox
Lunch table hip hop I'm a flop he failed me
20 years later, look who's settin' up shop
Really though

I've been way too humble for way too long
And I think it's time you know what
It takes me to sing these songs
Sometimes I just wanna take my
Ball and go home
'Cause if I want it bad enough
I might have to go alone really though