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Money Making Jam Boys
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Crown on the Ground (feat. Patty Crash)
1:STS]
They told me from the gate, I have to battle it out
With T-I-P you homie, about who the king of the south
They told me from the gate, I have to battle it out
With T-I-P, homie, who the king of the south
They told me from the gate, I have to battle it out
With T-I-P, homie, about who the king of the South
They don't know what I'm about, or what I bring forth
His position is safe, I want the king of New York
You know I'm ignorant, I'm arrogant, I lift the skirt like Marilyn
Run up in lady liberty and leave that pussy caroling
Flow as dope as heroin, I could supply Maryland
And a david mamo(?) or you know what I stand for
Tell that bitch my hand so, lately I been feelin' me
Doper than I been before and lately I been killin' me
Pop your top no Billy B, Geto Boys no Willie D
I steal cable from the neighbors, and my bitch on EBT
I'm so sick CDC, Gave away my CD free
New addition to the game bobbin' to your DVD
Chillin' in my BBC,?? and DNG
LMFAO at anybody trying to be like me
Let's go
Pow! Your crown's on the Ground
Pow! Your crown's on the Ground
Pick it up, it's in the lost and found
2: Dice Raw]
Yo, king of kings - the lord of lords
I finally arrived, baby hold your applause
Cause kings lose crowns, but most are just frauds
If you glad I'm still here, let me see your heads nod
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It's a royal holiday, yeah, pass the eggnog
Royal holiday, just obey God
Cause I been on (dang?), given one hell of a day job
My pockets stay fat, and my dick stay hard
My enemies stay down by the graveyard
Laying in the moat getting pissed on by a ghost
Kings are fucked up, but it's all in your approach
But who needs the hassle, I'll just stay in the castle
Yo, bow your head, as I raise my sword
And off goes a motherfuckers head when I'm bored
I want to hear the trumpets, and see the red carpets
Cross me, your head will be sticking out the tar pit
3: Truck North]
I hit the scene like a motherfucking rubber force
Throwin' rocks at the throne, oh, but of course
This the emperors new groove
They lacking fundamentals out here in the new school, they lost
So run and tell the kings is back
Niggas want to crown the dead, but the dead don't rap
Let's make a deal on the fact of the matter
Slap you in your face, tell your queen shut the chatter
Then offer with the bread of a delegated rapper
Pardon my laughter as the hate cascades from the rafters
Wave(?) a player faster than Mars - I made his girl randy
I does things my way Carlito Brigante
Hit 'em with some shit that's off the Richter like Andy
Sipping on brandy with a loaded clip handy
I write murder like Jessica Tandy
So lick a shot, and pay him on the spot, I command thee
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