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KXNG Crooked
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Microphone check microphone check I'm independent so I write my own checks In this cutthroat game I won’t slice my own neck Not to play the Bible card but my disciples on deck though I write music that Kaepernick can kneel to Gangster rappers get smashed backpackers get killed too Matter fact I snatch a battle rappers Adam's apple out of his neck so fast that when the plasma splatter it's still blue Thanks Em I just remixed your line like I’m the songs co-owner even that prefix is mine I guess being a criminal is in my DNA triple helix design He spits a rhyme he glitches time eclipse your shine He grips a nine three clips combined he rips your spine Defensive line prevents your kind from seeing another sequence in time This era you thinking these kids are blind I'm Braille L Cool J these n***as feel me You give them a marketing ploy I give them the real me I know this industry looks at me like I'm a lethal weapon so they want to conceal me Ask me about the Slaughterhouse album the honest truth was I think the cultures needs it more than the group does I just put lyrical activist in the juice jugs And lean on the game like I'm extorting the new blood You clowns shoot duds the circus is mad at me It's a nursing academy cause all I see is new scrubs Murder who challenge me (These) pussies are tighter than (a) virgins anatomy (When I'm) burning the booth (cuzz) What kind of beat we gonna' demolish when you hear from us I ain't got no type like the EarDrummers I don’t give a f**k what I sell, I don’t fear numbers When it's time to purchase the purists they disappear on us I’m still rolling like a Pharaoh shooting golden bow and arrows Out of them double loaded barrels out of them windows of Camaro's Still I'm folding up dinero plus I'm old enough to share hold (hold up!) I’m a product of Cuban links you can call me the GhostChef At any moment I goes left like Pun in a cypher with DMX and Mos Def Spittin like a woke rep arguing consciousness with them Hoteps I'm an old vet I'm a stingray not the old Vette Talking the stingray that left the Crocodile Hunter with no breath Don't step to the God unless it's murder you search for You started from the bottom your bottom must be the first floor Mine is the Earth's core my biological father was a poverty stricken farmer who left his seed to just grow up dirt poor In the middle of a turf war not having him now or then I don't know what hurts more I don't want the last time I see him to be in a mausoleum with me in a tux closing his hearse door This verse lord I'll share a few thoughts with ya I'm only keeping it a buck because I rock wit ya Imagine a young rapper came in the game sitting in the Death Row office I was staring at Pac's picture Kicked in the door for the chicken and dough the pot sticker But that Pac picture helped me mature a lot quicker For dead homies I'ma pour out a lotta liquor Hoping they in heaven looking down like my n***a I'm still the illest to do it with wisdom like minister Louis Farrakhan Mixed with a Jewish militia lieutenant sitting in the center of a synagogue Putting his faith in a God that resides over different religions Christians and Islam I guess my mind's in a different place It exists in a different space y'all can chase skin and race But I'm running a different race mentally I'm lifting weights Spiritually I live in grace my pineal gland expands I used to water my chakra with vodka Get drunk until my words were slurring sounding like I was mocking Chewbacca Still bend the block with the chopper if I say it then I live it I don't play a roll to kick it ain't no Oscars in soccer Ain't no Oscars in soccer
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