Let's Go

[Verse 1: KXNG Crooked] The killer standing in your front yard Gun bars motherfucker, we got gun bars Bullets spreading from your lumbar to where your lungs are Talking shit like Donald, pull your trump card Chill with the angry rap, fuck that Like pulling out when doggystyling, it’s the comeback Corporate sponsors don’t like it homie, what’s that Still got niggas sitting in the drug trap Beautiful ignorance, I spew beautiful ignorance How fucked is you to what you think I do to some instruments Real bitches love my shit, do the arithmetics They don’t fuck with your soft shit, that’s musical impotence Hell nah, I don’t fuck with y’all Glocks and them revolvers man, I done tucked them all I know the cops probably kill me with shots ‘cause I can’t duck ‘em all I just pray to God my dying words is “fuck them all” [Interlue] (Word, man) Fuck the motherfucking police, man Killing niggas with their hands up (On my mama) Fuck them motherfucker, man (Hate them motherfuckers) You know what, we got start killing them out here (Like doo, doo, doo) [Hook: KXNG Crooked] I’m just a shady ass nigga from the west coast Getting cash money ever since Death Row Ain’t no limit to the way I let my tec blow Rockefeller, the [?] with the smith & wes show I’m a ruthless bad boy nigga, let’s go I’m a ruthless bad boy nigga, let’s go I’m a ruthless bad boy nigga, let’s go I’m a ruthless bad boy nigga, let’s go [Veres 2: KXNG Crooked] Yeah, Fake niggas got the game falling I give a fuck if you lames balling You don’t like me, get to name calling I speak my mind like I’m James Baldwin Yeah, I’m raising hell while you’re facing L’s Losing yourself chasing sales, that’s a major fail I’m ringing bells, blazing traits, nigga my paper swells All day I think of bars, flame my brain cells I’m getting drunk if you can’t tell Ain’t no gravity in this ho so I can’t fail Fall, all you pussy boys go to hell If I tell you what I know, I’ll probably go to jail But I think too futuristic to ever become a new statistic Like you predicted, right, I’m super gifted, right, and what I write is too descriptive We can get pugilistic, arc and shoot the biscuit ‘Cause I shoot terrific, you will lose if you get the ruger twisted Right, they’re wondering where that real rap was Nah Statik, these niggas don’t want to rap, cuz And I got some bloggers I don’t like at all Fuck your site, nigga, put me on the cover of Final Call [Interlude] You fucking mother fucking punk ass websites (Like some Malcolm X shit) You damn sites tried to kill hip-hop (The shit here crazy, man) It’s fucking hipsters out here Posting all that soft shit We don’t fuck with that soft shit (We don’t like that shit, nigga, fuck it) [Verse 3: Termanology] I’m just a grimy Puerto Rican from the east coast Squeeze toast, lifting off your chain, call me Debo In front of One Freedom Tower with the beams glowing All my goons hungry wolves with the teeth showing I’ll run in the building where Darren Wilson live Wearing a Mike Brown mask and kill his pregnant bitch I got a military submachine navy gat That will put you where Brenda put the baby at I’ll cut your tongue out, it’s nothing you can say to that Just a mercenary machine that was made to rap And for the profit, I’ll hit you with a dome rocket You should’ve went and bought a gun instead of foam posits A nine, 38, desert, and a mac milli For different kinds of spitters like Black Hippy You act silly, I’ll treat you like a clown, man Put a red dot on your nose and have you found dead I’m ruthless ‘til I die, call me Eazy-E But I bring the east coast sound like I’m in D&D Rest in peace Sean P, you was the rapping king Cop your thing one time in the air for Statik KXNG