| Now, e’rybody wanna be the king of the South
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| When, they ain’t runnin a damn thing but they mouth
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| No doubt, it’s all good, y’all just statin y’all opinion
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| But in the South and in the hood it’s understood without sayin
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| It’s a given, and ain’t because of what I’m doin for a livin
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| It’s, mo' because of what I do and how I’m livin
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| Not to mention when I’m rappin I’m just hurtin niggas feelings
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| (Niggas feelings) And still chillin on Simpson in Center Hillin'
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| Made provisions for the clique to continue keepin it pimpin
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| Whether crack was in the house or record sales was through the ceiling
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| So say what you want, and do what you please
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| But for fun, I shoot 22's from your shoes to your knees
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| I run a record label and a crew of G’s
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| So, niggas’ll come and look for you if ya sneeze
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| Or even breathe the wrong way, you better do what the song say
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| And be easy, or else it’ll be a long day
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| I’m a king — bank rolls in the pockets of my jeans
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| I’m a king — you pussy niggas couldn’t see me in your dreams
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| I’m a king — top topic of all of your magazines
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| I’m a king — head of the body, leader of the team
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| I’m a king — remember I can get your block knocked off
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| I’m a king — a Bentley coupe with the top chopped off
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| I’m a king — I’m connectin nationwide but in the South
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| I’m a king — just respect it and keep my name out’cha mouth
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| I’m the prince shorty don’t get it twisted
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| Been callin shots since before my flows existed
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| And still find birds in my momma kitchen
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| You might see me burnin purple in the subdivision
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| I got soldiers on deck, babyface pimpin
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| Whatchu' know 'bout dat, I get a bad Brenda
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| With that vert' top back, my jeans feelin tight
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| Cause my pockets stay fat, playa better know that
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| My neck got so much shit, danglin
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| Big dick, big chain, we just keep on hangin
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| Got a Hollywood ho, and a broad that be sangin
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| They be hatin cause I’m famous what I was thankin
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| And this for every don nigga thankin he passed me
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| Y’all just thank that you gone and the shit’ll be nasty
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| I’mma stay ballin, ballin off my old school classic
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| Lil Scrap got big bank, now see if you can match it
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| Shorty I’m down with the kings, so call me the greatest
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| Number one hustler, I keep the street blazin
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| If the grapes don’t sell, I dry 'em up and sell raisins
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| While y’all cherry pickin hustlers out here slavin
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| That king shit nigga runs deep in my veins
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| Pump through my heart, live in my bone marrow mayne
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| That’s pimpin! |
| My gas is premium like octane
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| Cain’t tell me nuttin 'bout stackin these Benja-maynes
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| I’m the king of the Dirty, see me seated in the throne
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| Overruled other dudes like Caesar did in Rome
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| With a prince that’s so demandin and an aura so strong
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| The South ain’t been represented like this in so long
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| I’m an emperor, you best be glad I’m workin on my temper
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| Otherwise I’d cock a pistol, send some missiles to your temple
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| Disrespect us I’mma blick 'em 'til I get you plain and simple
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| Brass knuckles to your dentals blast suckers in they dimples
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| I’m a king |