Underground Kings - PRhyme

I’m an

I’m, I’m an

Rumor has it I’m an underground king

All I give a fuck about is money

And when I got it, I don’t give a fuck about it

It’s outlandish, I take for granted what God granted

My countertop granite, my house is outstanding

While I’m standing inside of it

Feelin' inside out as I pop Xanax

Watching myself on TV

In order to get to the TV I had to go through the proper channels

I don’t rock the flannel, I rock the Air Max, Atmos and camo

They call me the Benz owner, I put Lorenzo’s on it

Then go and pick a chick up, bone it and friend zone her

Soon as I see her wake up, I be fuckin' her raw

If she a B or an A cup, make her fuck in a bra

Let’s get it goin', got a dyke in the closet

I’m sure that she’ll join, I kill verses in return for it

A eulogy is borin', for you to be informed

I’m a chore and my circle change more than a European coin

Once the kill has begun, you realize

I’m the illest, the realest is Pimp C, and the trillest is Bun

I’m definitely best at gun rap, gun wrap

I put you on my recipe list

I put you on the treadmill accessory less like run that, run that

Detroit nigga, I destroy niggas in general

I deploy niggas to generally destroy niggas' regimes

So rumor has it I’m an underground king

King

From underground to number one, I don’t get it

I still be in Civics, it’s one of my bitches', I grew with the clip

And I’m known for the distributing, a loc 'til I’m ended

Put ten in a tank, 3 mil' in my bank, I’m more real than you think

Buy a bitch some high heels, a small purse and a shank

Some wet naps, a little skirt to insert through a shape

I’m in the gun wraps, I say them gun raps

I brought the guns back and showin' gang tats

And when I wrote this had every H capped

You know tHem Hoovers 'bout it, 'bout it, I serve bullets

And narcotics, tHe cops watcHin', still poppin'

A gang member, pitcHin' rock, every car on tHe block

No antennas, just a body, myself, I’m my own Hitta

I’m Top Dawg, you cat litter

Denied a million tHrougH a text, I’m a real nigga

From Heaven to tHe lowest of devils

Spit every bar for tHe rebels

My wardrobe done started trouble: orange rags

Bucket Hats, even be witH my stunt double

My life is eitHer jail or oxy in my cotton

You lookin' pale and so it’s gon' be for tHe knockin'

list on my stone, tHen 45, it’s only 3 options

I’m second to none, I sHoot 'til I won, gun bigger tHan Bun

Take more tHan your lung, pop, pop, pop

Convert to a Hearse, get a new top dropped, yawk yawk

Murder music, jump out of Buicks

Nobody movin' or I squeeze on it

Before I give up tHe crown, I bleed on it

An underground king sippin' my lean

You know I double my profit because I triple my beam

You niggas stop with the topics and all this fussin' and arguin'

Ain’t it clear to your optics that I would go through a squadron?

'Cause I’m as violent and vicious as killin' Christians and Christians

On the eve of a Christmas, say we got sick and sadistic

I’m talkin' tangled and twisted, this shit was terror-terrific

We killed the hubby and kiddies, murdered the dog and the misses

And made the maid do the dishes, now she sleep with the fishes

Now that sucka rapper’s dead, I assume my position

In the place, a king, on the throne is where I’m sittin'

Yeah, the Iron Throne is mail with the metal microphone

Hey, let the rats and the mice know Killer Mike is home

'Cause Killer is iller than all the killers they know

My past is good, I land a rock at my show

Before I go, rest in peace to Dilla fo' sho

Slum lord with a mic cord in a slum village on a slum tour

Through every ghetto I carry the heavy metal

Just in case a shovel is needed when arguments are settled

Mama get rose petals

That’s it, finito, no chatter, the matter settled

I got your bitch, I got some head, she got stilettos

Lyrically I’m literally a bad motherfucker

Bernard Freeman technique, and my swagger Chad Butler, mothafucka