hundred mill' later, now you understand us Y'all ain't see us comin' through Vegas You ever seen so much cham' bust in one night Grand fucked up one
the King Adrock I don't wear a cup nor a jock I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre Like Miss Piggy, who moi I am the one with the clientele You say
with a million people waitin' I've been saved, fuck my caves, those is just gifts Just imagine if we all wit one page Think alike, A, B alike, C alike
man, shit I gotta get up off my ass And go chase these cholo muthafuckas I hate those fuckin' Mexicans I'm always gettin' caca from the blaca The B.G
Not one of your friends but one of your foes And spittin the wicked shit is the life i chose Do a spin grab my nuts then b boy pose Chain you up for
is the one and only Incredible, Jam Master Yo, back up off the ropes, punk Beats to the rhyme, the rhyme I just made Party at the jammie til lights the night
Okay Tony, listen to me See those two guys over there? Those are the Diaz Brothers They got the biggest distribution of mixtapes From New York all the
it all night, feel the erection deep in your section, I got a pocket full of protection/ She's sleepin' I'm cookin' breakfast/ Huh, still gettin' followed by those
's full of queen and king's daughters, as clean as spring water 'F's for freakin', A's alright (Yeah) 'B's for bottles that pop all night (Uh huh) 'O'
king adrock I don't wear a cup nor a jock I bring the shit that's beyond bizarre Like miss piggy Who moi I am the one with the clientele. You say
crowd and the ed is special I am the one and I am the master I am the king and this is my castle Dwell in realms of now but videos those of the past
on, I'm on, I'm on, I'm on You could run and tell my city it's on Bun B, king of the trill also one of the dopest Rep for the streets or on the mic,
urban masters The krazy kings be thinking caps and sparking tags quick (4x) I was once in the land where things would never go right There lived a king
penthouse king. Puerto rican grifter making dirty money stings. Smell the dollar in the air and everywhere in sight. Cold cash hungry connoisseurs savor every bite. Neon nights
about Bob Marley, Bob Dobbs and Bob Forrest To all those punker sluts, to Eek-A-Mouse Tom for lettin' us practice and crash, chili part all night PEN
into your eyes I couldnt deny those hips those thighs make me wanna eat you up like my mama's pie I'd be like 40 days and 40 nights just to make you
ring where Q.B. is King, what Yo for you I take a fifth to the head till I url Boomerang dunn, Q.B. bust they gun Keep them P.C. niggas on the run,