PRhyme, Killer Mike, Schoolboy Q - Underground Kings lyrics

I'm an i'm, I'm an

Rumor has it I'm an underground king
All I give a fuck about is money
And when I got it
I don't give a fuck about it
It's outlandish
I take for granted what God granted
My countertop granite
My house is outstanding
While I'm standing inside of it
Feelin' inside out as I pop Xanax
Watching myself on TV
In order to get to the TV I
Had to go through the proper channels
I don't rock the flannel, I rock the Air Max
Atmos and camo they call me the Benz owner
I put Lorenzo's on it
Then go and pick a chick up
Bone it and friend zone her
Soon as I see her wake up
I be fuckin' her raw if she a B or an A cup
Make her fuck in a bra
Let's get it goin', got a dyke in the closet
I’m sure that she’ll join
I kill verses in return for it
A eulogy is borin', for you to be informed
I'm a chore and my circle change
More than a European coin
Once the kill has begun, you realize
I'm the illest, the realest is Pimp C
And the trillest is Bun
I'm definitely best at gun rap, gun wrap
I put you on my recipe list
I put you on the treadmill
Accessory less like run that, run that
Detroit nigga, I destroy niggas in general
I deploy niggas to generally
Destroy niggas' regimes
So rumor has it I'm an underground king king

From underground to number one
I don't get it i still be in Civics, it's
One of my bitches', i grew with the clip
And I'm known for the distributing
A loc 'til I'm ended
Put ten in a tank, 3 mil' in my bank
I'm more real than you think
Buy a bitch some high heels
A small purse and a shank some wet naps
A little skirt to insert through a shape
I'm in the gun wraps, I say them gun raps
I brought the guns back and showin' gang tats
And when I wrote this had every H capped
You know tHem Hoovers 'bout it, 'bout it
I serve bullets
And narcotics, tHe cops watcHin'
Still poppin' a gang member, pitcHin' rock
Every car on tHe block
No antennas, just a body, myself
I'm my own Hitta
I'm Top Dawg, you cat litter
Denied a million tHrougH a text
I'm a real nigga
From Heaven to tHe lowest of devils
Spit every bar for tHe rebels
My wardrobe done started trouble: orange rags
Bucket Hats, even be witH my stunt double
My life is eitHer jail or oxy in my cotton
You lookin' pale and so it's
Gon' be for tHe knockin'
List on my stone, tHen 45
It's only 3 options
I'm second to none, I sHoot 'til I won
Gun bigger tHan Bun
Take more tHan your lung, pop, pop, pop
Convert to a Hearse, get a new top dropped
Yawk yawk murder music, jump out of Buicks
Nobody movin' or I squeeze on it
Before I give up tHe crown, I bleed on it


An underground king sippin' my lean
You know I double my profit
Because I triple my beam
You niggas stop with the topics and
All this fussin' and arguin'
Ain't it clear to your optics that
I would go through a squadron?
'Cause I'm as violent and vicious
As killin' Christians and Christians
On the eve of a Christmas
Say we got sick and sadistic
I'm talkin' tangled and twisted
This shit was terror-terrific
We killed the hubby and kiddies
Murdered the dog and the misses
And made the maid do the dishes
Now she sleep with the fishes
Now that sucka rapper's dead
I assume my position in the place, a king
On the throne is where I'm sittin'
Yeah, the Iron Throne is mail
With the metal microphone
Hey, let the rats and the mice
Know Killer Mike is home
'Cause Killer is iller than all
The killers they know
My past is good, I land a rock at my show
Before I go, rest in peace to Dilla fo' sho
Slum lord with a mic cord in a
Slum village on a slum tour
Through every ghetto I carry the heavy metal
Just in case a shovel is
Needed when arguments are settled
Mama get rose petals
That's it, finito, no chatter
The matter settled
I got your bitch, I got some head
She got stilettos
Lyrically I'm literally a bad motherfucker
Bernard Freeman technique, and my
Swagger Chad Butler, mothafucka