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ricky conaway – married to the king lyrics

[vic mensa]
yeah, married to the king, married to the mob
sm1914

who gives a f-ck about what anybody say about me
man y’all ain’t raise me, word to betsy mcgurk-mensah
she the only one, the only one i can’t let down
mama, she the reason, she the reason i ain’t quit yet
i wake up at 9 o’clock this morning, 3 o’clock for tequila shots
so sick, blame it on the alcohol, jamie foxx
ready to let it all go
i only wonder, will my n-gg-s see tomorrow?
cause we been livin’ like the past can’t catch us
and we been livin’ like them n-gg-s can’t catch us
and we been runnin’ in the streets like it’s recess
i’m so aggressive, man i keep ’em on the defense
hey, hey, hey i think i’m gone off the deep end
i’m tryna keep this sh-t together, keep this sh-t together
i call this “married to the king” and the beat coretta
how it feel? how it feel? i should be feelin’ better
that’s f-cked up, man i guess that’s what life is
best dressed, suicide, louis neck to the knife
down to hit a stain like a 197
with my dogs, i hope all dogs go to heaven
if the lady is a tramp, let her suck the noodle
and i came for the check, came for the check
and my n-gg- got the tote the toaster like a strudel
shout to denzel curry, we don’t take kindly to threats
n-gg-s don’t need to see me go cuckoo
ten seconds from a mental breakdown, i’m out of state now
old country buffet, i got so much on my plate now
i just left l.a., i’m flyin’ right back to l.a. now
i’m married to the beat, she married to the king
’til death do us part, death do us part
and i’m married to the beat, she married to the king
’til death do us part, man, she my baby

[ricky conaway]
you can gimme any beat and imma rhyme over it
i’m the hottest and the coldest, i’m the bipolar kid
and i don’t even really need to be diagnosed wit it
50k up on my sh-t, make high toast to this
and it don’t really matter if i die po or rich
when i’m buried they’ll compare me to pic-sso and sh-t
see the range?
i can go from a high note to this
we can take it to the backyard, like pablo the kid
and i’m known to diss, so lemme ask, why so tough?
there’s so many f-ckin people here i don’t trust
if you included in that group you better lay low cause
i let the glock go, my bullets givin glaucoma
there’s a reason i don’t answer when my iphone buzz
if you hatin muhf-cka i supply no love
you can take a look at my mic, and you’ll find no dust
i’m a beat killer b-tch, fee fi fo fum, so..
who wanna take it up wit the greatest?
i’m soon to be at the top of the a-list wit all your favorites
but for now i’ll be up inside of ya playlist
sleepin’ is for the weak if you see me i’ll be awakened, believe me
i hear em talkin and talkin
but the realest are feelin’ me like the dog that i’m walkin
if you hatin well f-ck it, then it’s off with ya noggin
i’m underground, only right i put em all in a coffin
god d-mn
lemme slow it down for pete’s sake
all i got are 16s, ready for a replay
i could take you out for 20 dollars, that’s a cheap date
gimme a second to think as i let the beat play..

should i give ’em more?
nah..

- ricky conaway lyrics

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