Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Belligerent, artist - King Magnetic. Album song Belligerent, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.02.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: King Mag
Song language: English
Belligerent |
Addicted to moving the rock |
Grew up ain’t knew his pops |
Walk around with a mop |
Always tryna get guap |
When is shit gonna stop |
Living something you not |
And you fronting for hoes |
Got no time, bought a watch |
Better watch for the statements |
Niggas steady be hating |
For them niggas think we pussy we catch bodies like Jason |
G-Got choppas like Haitians |
Leaning four like the matrix |
Got to dirty a cup and it’s fuckin' up thinking |
Fifteen young nigga running from the D’s |
Thousand in the sock, the cops just yelling freeze |
Addicted just to these knots |
Always smoking the trees |
Eyes be looking low like I’m Vietnamese |
Niggas kicking the door |
I be waving the four |
Cops ever tryna rush me, nigga I’m at a show |
We back in the trap |
Better walk with a strap |
Got me dressed in all black |
Doing hits for the racks |
Back in the trap like a fox biting his tail off |
I tried to tell y’all |
Collateral damage off the blast, cruise control, target locked |
Let the missile splash |
Box it out, start stepping but shoot in top hats |
Problems incorrect so take a second to double check it |
Pinpoint, pinpoint, it’s all facts |
My presentation is these laser beams lining your back |
You in distress? |
Well we gon' lay it down across these tracks |
Train come running, people start gunning |
Your body gets splattered, I’ll be standing there to laugh |
I ain’t speaking on nothing, out the loop of this discussion |
Think about it after, now I’m sure that’s that |
Blend right into your environment |
Rock, paper, scissors with the iron fist |
It’s my choice how you gon' be dying kid |
And you know you gone be draped in black, what’s up? |
Nothin' Pretty’s my attitude when I walk |
'Cause I don’t do dirt, got goons that’ll splatter you in the court |
Shatter you from a thought, took sabbaticals from the sport |
Came back like the same crack you blaze with your favorite torch |
Jump on your neighbor’s porch |
The razor brought cut a racist a couple places |
His face is gonna morph, check it |
I got a reason to believe you single handedly a snitch |
And you got surveillance cameras in the whip |
You’ll never plead or challenge with the fifth |
You’re unbalanced and it’s sick |
Can’t be valid and a snitch |
Got the talent and the gift to do damage to the strip |
Play fly with ya limp, blacks talons in ya hip, pimp |
Ya right hands a crab, he fucked you like fefe’s |
Bagged you like chi’s chi’s, stab them off GP |
DTs at ya crib and strong time builders |
Rang ya bell, good job, that’s Long John Silver’s, nigga |
Fuck all them filters, we animals without the flash |
Pull the can out the car like we running out of gas |
Pit stop in Pittsburgh, no blick, brung cautio |
Springfield destination, only here for gun auctions |
Spun off it, two big for one coffin |
Deaded one plug and I’m heavy as Pun off it |
A loudmouth silence is fatal |
But I rather wait on checks than trial or a table |
You a lion I’m the science to tame you |
Another page out my jungle book |
You’d think I was designing a fable |
It’s the king with the Mag Mob sign on the label |
I don’t have to get the strap, brought mine to the table |
I generate with degenerates a little bit |
So it’s rigorous, rip a ligament, reconsider it |
Mix a lil ignorance with everything significant |
King Magnetic: definition of belligerent |