Lyrics Doc Holliday - King Fantastic

Doc Holliday

Behold the pale horse, the man who sat on him was death
And hell followed with him
In my caddy like a sugar daddy, smoking on swishers
Drinking brown liquor, hella loud like a nigga
Jamming like an old man, listening to Gap Band
Strap on my motherfucking lap too
And my strap is on my motherfucking lap too
I am too old for playing, I will blap you
I keep a Widowmaker in the tuck
That’s incase a young buck get tough
Yeah I can spend a couple dollars on a murder case
If I didn’t pop him I was probably dead anyway
I’m an old school shooter from the city
It’s a lot of loose ends still wanna come get me
But ain’t no fear over here my dear
I’m at the bar by myself, three shots and three beers
Face to the door, no Benny Blanco
I got a nigga funeral sitting in my poncho
You push that line if you want to
Turning down a fight is what I don’t do
I go baboon, you ask my psych
You talking that dumb shit, that’s what I like
Yeah I’m damn near forty, I’m married with two kids
But I’ll be your Huckleberry, hey it is what it is
In my caddy like a sugar daddy, smoking on swishers
Drinking brown liquor, hella loud like a nigga
Jamming like an old man, listening to Gap Band
Strap on my motherfucking lap too
In my caddy like a sugar daddy, smoking on swishers
Drinking brown liquor, hella loud like a nigga
Jamming like an old man, listening to Gap Band
Strap on my motherfucking lap too
And my strap is on my motherfucking lap too
I am too old for playing, I will blap you
I max out on a hoe nigga
Ego be yelling, «go nigga, go nigga»
My buddies hate it when I get like this
Catch me on the wrong day and I’ll lose my shit
Nigga can’t come down, nigga can’t think straight
Feeling superhuman nigga, running off hate
So that’s my resume nigga, how 'bout yours?
You better think twice before you start this war
'Cause I’ma war filthy, you’re gonna have to kill me
I’m trying to act normal, that is not the real me
I’m a crazy criminal, a druggy, a drunk
I’m Mr. kick-it-off with the pump in the trunk
Yeah, I’m a bad, bad man, I do bad, bad things
I ain’t got this reputation for nothing, naw I mean?
Something wrong with my wires, I was born on fire
So the murder slowed down, but the Killer don’t retire
In my caddy like a sugar daddy, smoking on swishers
Drinking brown liquor, hella loud like a nigga
Jamming like an old man, listening to Gap Band
Strap on my motherfucking lap too
In my caddy like a sugar daddy, smoking on swishers
Drinking brown liquor, hella loud like a nigga
Jamming like an old man, listening to Gap Band
Strap on my motherfucking lap too
And my strap is on my motherfucking lap too
I am too old for playing, I will blap you
Don’t make no mistake
It’s not revenge he’s after, it’s a record
In my caddy like a sugar daddy, smoking on swishers
Drinking brown liquor, hella loud like a nigga
Jamming like an old man, listening to Gap Band
Strap on my motherfucking lap too
In my caddy like a sugar daddy, smoking on swishers
Drinking brown liquor, hella loud like a nigga
Jamming like an old man, listening to Gap Band
Strap on my motherfucking lap too
And my strap is on my motherfucking lap too
And my strap is on my motherfucking lap too
And my strap is on my motherfucking lap too
I am too old for playing, I will blap you
Wanna take it earlier, Huckleberry again
Doctor of your holiday…