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king t - str-8 gone lyrics

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haa
woo

dedicated to the hub city
straight west coast n-gga, ain’t no pity
put holes in n-ggas, real pretty
real sh-tty like a black frank nitty
i give drugs to the thugs price-free
handed down the game by that n-gga ice-t
no doubt players like me
recognise the great king tee, about twenty grand a ki
ah, that’s that g sh-t, no doubt about that
statutory lyrics is how i rape the rap
and get your n-ggas off my back
and no, god, ya don’t pull a strap, cos (-gun shot-) f-ck that!
i’m very precise when i shoot
straight out the roof of my lexus coupe
ya wanna blame tha alkaholik group
but, naw, that n-gga tela must’ve hit the loot
cos he’s actin real loonie
and i don’t give a f-ck cause i’m drunk and i’m a g like spoonie
the hoodrats wanna do me
so if you’ve got’cha county cheque give it to me

chorus:

now baby, don’t trip, it’s king tee with the gangsta sh-t
ain’t f-ckin with nothin but them platinum hits
and the two dog groan, a 50 gat to your dome
that n-gga on the mic str-8 gone
-repeat-

huh, so i guess i earned the t-tle ‘og’
been down for ten years, this my fifth lp
i’mma get this one easy
a real motherf-ckin g, r-rock tee
now all these fools talkin ’bout they some k!llers
car stealers, big time drug dealers
b-tch -ss n-ggas keep it real, don’t lie
you ain’t k!llin sh-t and they gon’ let sh-t die
you ask “who the h-ll am i?”
they call me ‘big bone’ and on my worst night i fades em all
and i come thru ya hood like a locc -ss g
rip any fool that calls hisself an mc
it’s only one way, let’s have gun play
i make it play, n-gga, f-ck what you got to say
i got a mad crew of murderers, ex-burglars
puttin soft n-ggas outta service

chorus:

now baby, don’t trip, it’s king tee with the gangsta sh-t
ain’t f-ckin with nothin but them platinum hits
and the two dog groan, all the f-ckin chips blown
that n-gga on the mic str-8 gone
baby, don’t trip, it’s king tee with the gangsta sh-t
ain’t f-ckin with nothin but them platinum hits
and the two dog groan, sittin on chrome
that n-gga on the mic str-8 gone

my whole crew lives illegal
strapped with the bulletproof vest in the front and back regal
smokin that sticky green gr-ss
hittin switches, bumpin on cuts from the past
we smoke leaf cos we live like g’s
super-soft n-ggas become enemies
i hit a l!ck on the east for ten ki’s
now everything i drive is on deez
i’mma make you believe, i gotta put it down like a real n-gga should
my dope spot in every n-gga’s hood
i don’t waste time, i need to get what’s mine
fourteen sh-lls from behind
leave you in the blind, str-8 paralysed from ya spine
a partner of organised crime
ya hear it all the time but now ya gotta hear it from the truth
til my n-gga karl phat’s respect due

chorus:

now baby, don’t trip, it’s king tee with the gangsta sh-t
ain’t f-ckin with nothin but them platinum hits
and the two dog groan, 50 gat to the dome
that n-gga on the mic str-8 gone
(repeat 4x)

and i’m gone



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