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big k.r.i.t. - king of the south كلمات الأغنية

[hook]
grew up on the country side of town
now i’m ballin’ under city lights
grew up on the country side of town
now i’m ballin’ under city lights
king of the south, king of the south, king of the south
king of the south, king of the south, king of the south
grew up on the country side of town

[verse 1]
m-i crooked my n-gga
do it for the south, ya’ll know
born and raised where the rebel flag hang from the slaves
grew up where ya’ll n-ggas won’t go
rep that, rep that sh-t like i own it
i did it big for my fam and my homies
i got the biggest house on my block, foreign with the drop
for the times i was out here homeless, god flow
time and time again i tried to tell these n-ggas
yo what i say to these n-ggas?
reebok, on tap dance, do whatever for a sack
give a lap dance b-tch -ss n-gga
fee-fi-fo c0ked up
25 lighters on my dresser, ain’t sh-t changed
rollin’ in the ham sandwich on propellers lookin’ like a strech
i’m so clean you think i might be selling cocaine
light at the end of the tunnel
when you’re flexin’ it’s hard to be humble
talkin’ fourth down, can’t throw the ball to def jam
cause they might fumble
kick that south flow that you can’t get
try to f-ck the world but my d-ck won’t fit
my b-tch like “krit, motherf-ck they feelings
you wanna be king, gotta claim that sh-t”
i’m talkin’ ’bout off with they heads
when you put on a mink, gotta creep down stairs
when you come from the country
your feet on the snakes would will make clothes out of bears
i ain’t playin’ no games
i leave with the future, you follow these lames
i embody the south, the swing, the grain
the trunk with the bang, the gold in their mouth

[verse 2]
ain’t no love in the coliseum
this sh-t here been a bloodsport
keep what you k!ll, f-ck if they live
cause everybody out here cutthroat
i’ve been quietly waitin’
deep in my dungeon, my stomach was rumblin’, my belly was achin’
everybody wanna see a monster
till they see the monster, the monster holla out, “what’s shakin’?”
i know what you thinking, this n-gga sh-t, must not be stankin’
he must not know better at all
t-tans collide, only zeus could survive
if not me b-tch, who the f-ck you gone call?
to rain from the mountain tops
still blood stains on the leaves
i don’t do it for the blog spot comment box, i do it for the ogs
and them country folk that can’t talk that sh-t
this ain’t your curb, don’t walk that b-tch
this ain’t your porch, so keep off that sh-t
go find a cliff and jump off that b-tch
if you don’t think that i’m king
i done proved them wrong like twice, can’t stop my fight
i could murder your favorite rapper
and all i get is “no way a mississippi n-gga really that nice!”
f-ck em, f-ck em, f-ck em, f-ck em, f-ck em
i said it six times cause it’s my pleasure
say it one more time for just for good measure, f-ck em
raised by the king that before me
slowly crept up and still paid dues
i embody the south, the swang, the bang
the soul and the pain and the blues

- big k r i t

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