Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song K.K.K.Y. , by - CunninLynguists. Song from the album Dirty Acres, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 01.02.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: APOS
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song K.K.K.Y. , by - CunninLynguists. Song from the album Dirty Acres, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопK.K.K.Y. |
| Yeah |
| Now you wanna look down? |
| Aha aha |
| (Verse 1) |
| Don’t worry about this dirty south til it’s mud floods ya front stoop |
| Aces and acres of haters growing out the same root |
| That hit you quicker than poverty in two major arteries |
| Havin you movin and softshoe-in like who made you property |
| Black face and sambos, tied for last place |
| Let facts state, we like Wildcats in a rat race |
| At that rate, the state stay ahead of tomorrow |
| Standing out like mount Kilimanjaro |
| So through this Bluegrass follow sorrow |
| Blacker then the ghetto you fear |
| You disappear like the future of the ghetto you near |
| Where index fingers bring the heavy metal you hear |
| Block stars loading guns as fiends battle for crumbs |
| Come travel through slums, try politickin with pushas |
| Made block decisions, while mothafuckas overlooked us |
| Under the radar like helicopters on the sly |
| Crept in with hoods on, KKKY |
| (Chorus X2) |
| KKKY, more then what you thank it is |
| Ain’t just tobacco, some bourbon and where horse racin live |
| This is for my Mark Makers, I keep my flask tipped |
| Live where the grass crip, steppin in my blood |
| (Verse 2) |
| Don’t try to play Mike Vick and stick a dog in this fight |
| Ya art of loud bark don’t veto your mosquitoish bite |
| The mc’s too dark, the producer to white |
| Fam the lyrics too loose, the beats is to tight |
| Man, we parry blows, we bury foes through stereos |
| Keep an aerial view over scenarios |
| Some niggaz, that move spirts like a liquor store |
| AA, after 12 steps you back to get some more |
| Makers of Woodford Reserve that curve ya nerves |
| We country, coming with fists while you armed with words |
| Field nigga brand hands that’ll slap you to sleep |
| From the land of hard liquor and tobacco that’s cheap |
| We rose like Lazarus, a miraculous feat |
| Put soul in it gave what’s left back to the streets |
| But we all artist regardless of the art is in speech |
| Close Kyn, make notes bent tryna find a release from this |
| (Chorus X2) |
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