Soundtracks: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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King Just - Can i get some lyrics

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Can i get some by King Just

Hell yeah
This is how we supposed to do
Uh-huh, Black Fist we gon' do?
Drop the grenade, niggas ain't larger
Time to get paid, you're in the alarm
Rappers get slayed, and they cause no harm
I'm about to lay, hey, can I get some?
[King Just]
Yo, come get a f**kin taste of reality
Casualty, wept over the whole f**kin galaxy
Battle me, your styles a game like Sorry
Or like Atari, I'm gnarly just like a Harley
Davidson, I take on the bravest one
And turn into that b**ch ass nigga he was
Cuz, ain't no fakin and no playin
And every word that I say, is every word that I'm slayin
Oh God, why do they think I'm broad
Is it my lyrics is hard or is I'm wit the Mob
From the Six, now all these rappers talkin sh*t
But I must be schemin on my life to make hits
Black Fist on the rise, oh now you're surprised
Ya niggas don't exist, like f**kin pens you pry
But I'mma ride, this beat like girls ridin my meat
f**kin wit Just, that's like swimmin in sh*t's Creak
Wit diarrhea, oh mamma mia
Skills is ill, real faster than a cheetah
In a jungle, and I'mma watch ya empire crumble
If rap was football, ya niggas would of been fumble
[King Just]
Back up, back up, yes Zoo's in town
Wit the new twist and a brand new sound
What you want? Ya niggas ain't ready for war
Cuz it take ten more, before I get raw
Hardcore, off the wall hip hop
Nonstop, settin up shop on your block
Wit glocks, let ya brain rot
Mob tactics, bustin shots, there's a freeze on the pop
What blood clot? Means no money, no honey
And that's what make us better than you dummies
Sayin all types of sh*t like Shaolin wouldn't last
But just like an automobile you been gassed
Passed, just like the rest, you wanna come for test
My brain's half rhyme, the other half cess
I've been blessed wit the success
What did you except? Look at the way I catch wet
From the projects, and I'mma live here
Til I die, gettin high, Shaolin Soldiers take over in '95
And I'mma make sure all my sh*t is raw
For ya niggas who front, spell it backwards, war
[King Just]
Hey good lookin, what you got cookin
Pack your nerve quick, I have this in the street shookin
The f**ked up, niggas better duck
Somebody call a bomb squad, cuz I'm about to blow up
Boom, there goes the building
The bomb makes a killa stackin loot to the ceiling
Who dwellin and dealin, maybe I got the f**kin feelin
That I'mma make platinum, I gots to see the million
I'm destined to buck f**kin wild just like a Western
They goin two in the quarter, and have mad sessions
Ain't no second guessin, I'm back, where's ya heart at?
Shaolin's on the map, Zoo niggas attack
The track, got my mind flippin a hundred miles a minute
And as long as I'm in it, boy, I'mma finish
A M.C. off, they got lost and tossed by the source
Cuz I pay the cost to be the boss
You get flagged like Betty Ross and the Spangled Banner
Slammin sh*t more harder than f**kin Thor's hammer
The ill manner, wit ill grammar
When I get mad, I turn the opposite of f**kin David Bammer
The incredible, unedible, turn backwards
Terrible, cock a phony rappers offa pedestal
Yeah, how we on that Shaolin Soldier sh*t
King Just, the Mystics of the God
Sex, Money, and Cess and the Blas'e Blah

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