Lyrics The MAGA Continues - KXNG Crooked

The MAGA Continues

His name: «Red Hood»
His movement: «The Red Empire»
In the good ol' days this doesn’t happen
Because they used to treat them very, very rough
I’d like to punch him in the face, I tell ya
The MAGA continues
Word on the street is the Puppet Master got killed
I ain’t hear shit, I don’t know shit, I ain’t see shit
Word on the street niggas snitched when they got real
That’s some weird shit, that’s some ho shit, that ain’t G shit
The block’s hot again, got the RoboCops on our ass
What else they gonna do to us?
Already come into the community killin' anybody
who lower class
They ain’t nothin' new to us
If ya thought Eric Garner was the first then you don’t know the half
The bullets just shoot through us
See they catch us on the Ave. for your phone take a photograph
They gon' go (doot doot) to us
Cop end a nigga life go home and have dinner with his wife
I wonder how a monster like that can look his kids in the eyes
Catch him slippin' we gon' hit him with the pipe
Pistol kissin' him goodnight (Mwah!)
Used to kill us in the dark, now they just kill us in the light
Guess they figured if they pull the trigger on niggas that Martin Luther King
fought for, what’s a civil right?
(Right, right, right, right, right)
Then they wanna know why we act ill with the black steel
Get ya cap peeled, get ya hat filled with the lead to the head like a advil,
how does that feel?
Killin' at will like the Hatfields and McCoys with the toys
Shootin' like I’m Grant Hill
I’m accused of givin' ya fake news but Tamira Rice and Philando Castille,
that’s real
So I’m steppin' on your ant hill 'til the shit is at a standstill
Right after my toast I hit ya, I’ma post a picture
That’s how I hit the net with your flicks and chill
(Nah chill Crook)
Sucka don’t like what I said, off with his head
Watch how the population of real niggas decrease when I’m dead
I can’t talk about unity
I can’t talk about unity
I can only talk about where I’m from, niggas point a hundred guns at you and me
Higher ups want me to be the ghetto’s eulogy, musically, truthfully
I can get a million dollar market and budget if I say «fuck it» and poison the
community
But I rather drop that real
But I rather drop that real
Built in federal crime bill
Got us in an incredible bind still, my OG’s locked up still
Pop that pill, rather pop that steel
'Cause he been in there for years got eight more of those
Triple OG, got great cornrows
How long you been a ward of the state?
Lord knows
Been boxed up since the 90s, get out
Welcome to the future, they still wanna shoot ya
They still execute ya, they still wanna noose ya
They still want abuse ya with no retribution
They talk of inclusion, it’s all an illusion
The baller confusion, the news they be using the propaganda views to install in
the youth, then they alter the truth so they fall in the movement
I fall in the booth and drop an exclusive
All my interviews, they be calling my music a problem
I use it to solvin' but you get
Brought up in a mood and proper attitude to miss all of the evolution
But what is hip-hop turnin' in to?
How to see confederate flags all in the venue?
The saga continues, the MAGA continues