King Los – January 24th 2017 Lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Hello, yeah
Yeah, I know
Hah, yeah
Yeah, I know
Yeah, don’t get it f**ked up
I know. Yeah, do-don’t get it f**ked..
‘Cause I know, ay, ay don’t get me f**ked up
‘Cause I.. hold up
King shit, look

[Verse 1]
I got a closet full of cool shit
Two strippers named strawberry
One got a cool whip, I’m buggin’ on my new shit
Fully connected to the Heaven inside
My god, it’s been a hell of a ride
I told the Devil “Goodbye”, bumpin’ Erykah Ba-du
Do you know you f**kin’ with a hell of a guy?
Young, intelligent, wise, humble, eloquent, fly
They say when “We gonna be Los”, I say “when elephants fly”
I’ll f**k around and save the world in one benevolent try
I got the swag of a nigga back in ’79
I hit the button for them Benjamins, put that in rewind
This shit about to be a movie, I’ll get better with time
Man I get letters from God, like “never let up your guard”
Long as they fighting you, head up, boy keep your head up in mar
I’m getting fed up with talk, watch how I set up this bar
Like it ain’t nothing personal, I’m just better than y’all
From lack of culture you won’t know this shit embedded in y’all
See having knowledge itself is the greatest blessing of all
Unless you evolve, you’d never confess you was lost
All these Jesuit Methodists, spreading prejudice laws
How could the spirit of the oppressors be better than ours?
You talking ’bout false prophets but serve irrelevant Gods
I know this level is hard, we’re only here for the test
You gotta meditate to elevate the spirit from flesh
And I ain’t nearly impressed
When I was quoting your shit
I couldn’t feel jack son, you need coachin’ and shit
Word to the culture I’m lit, lit like a wick of dynamite
Wicked your honor might
Try to give me a thousand year-sentence when I’m behind the mics spitting
We can take off, Face/Off like Travolta and Nick
You feel the voltage in this, you see the focus my nig
Who said they dope as the kid? Man quit the joking and shit
You got one foot in, one foot out, you Hokey Pokeying bitch
Your flow pussy, ovaries, Fallopian, clit
I’ll whip your ass on a track, say “It’s over” and dip

Remy Ma – Shether lyrics

[Intro: Nicki Minaj & Remy Ma]
Free Remy!
(Word)
You know what? Free Remy!
Fuck you, Free Remy!
(Fuck Nicki Minaj!)
Are you dumb?
You wore a pink diamond chicken wing chain (Are you dumb?)
You had a leopard beehive on your head (Are you dumb?)
(Fuck Nicki Minaj!)
Are you forgettin’ that I pressed you before, bitch?
(Fuck Nicki Minaj!)

[Hook]
(I) Fuck with your soul like shETHER
(Will) You ain’t the queen, I’ll show you
(Not) Lipo your ass and belly
(Lose) I prove you lost already

[Verse]
They told you your whole career I’d come home and kill you, right? Ha-ha!
I told you I wasn’t talkin’ about your dumb ass
It looks stupid, you literally got a dumb ass
Talkin’ cray, and we all know that you dumb as
You get Donkey of the Day, yeah, you dumb ass
Let’s be honest, you stole that line ’bout bitches bein’ your sons—how you take my ’09 jail tweet and run?
Talkin’ about bringin’ knives to a fight with guns
When the only shot you ever took was in your buns
And I saw Meek at All-Star, he told me your ass dropped
He couldn’t fuck you for three months
Because your ass dropped
Now I don’t think y’all understand how bad her ass got
The implants that she had put in her ass popped
I was like, “Damn, 90 days and you couldn’t have box?
Did she at least compensate? Start givin’ you mad top?
Her name Minaj, right? She ain’t throw you some bad thots?”
He said “Nah,” that’s when I knew you was really a trash bop
You was screamin’ “Free Remy!” when I was upstate doomed
But now that they freed Remy, you don’t sing the same tune
Locked me up, threw away my keys, threw away my weaves
Snatched me from my son, braids to the back, state greens
Daily News, “Her career’s over,” “She was kinda stupid,”
But you saw a opportunity ’cause you a opportunist
Left your Day 1 ’cause you heard he was on some cheat shit
Then got with the dude that told you on some creep shit
But what happened to Omeeka? Nah, on some G shit
Left him and took a pic with the dude he had beef with?
And we all know it was a beef that you started
Pillow-talkin’ out of your ass, this bitch retarded
Now you gotta die, you dearly departed
Bloodbath when I catch you, a real red carpet
Now what I’ma do, I’ma just stick to the facts
Bitch so scared of my future, got this bitch goin’ backwards
Been through mad crews, you disloyal hoochie
Now all of a sudden you back with Drake and Tunechi?
After he said you sucked his dick, you back with Gucci?
Who next: Puff, Deb, or Fendi? You a A-list groupie
And to be the Queen of Rap, you gotta actually rap
The whole industry know that your shit is a wrap
No, to be the Queen of Rap, you can’t have a ghostwriter
And that’s why this is my house; Flo Rida
Niggas done seen Drake pennin’, Wayne pennin’
And since your first boyfriend left, bitch ain’t winnin’
You a Internet troll, a Web browser, I’m sorry
You can’t get a on line without Safaree
Mentionin’ guns, you Pussy Galore, James Bond
Only time you touch a trigga is when you fucked Trey Songz
Coke head, you cheated on your man with Ebro
I might leak the footage of you sniffin’ them ski slopes
They gassin’ you up, but you been on E, though
“Pills and Potions,” yep, you been on E, hoe
Got your ghostwriters back, so you think you lit
Rem Belushi, I’m a Ghostbuster, bitch
I’m supposed to be scared
‘Cause you bought your Barbie chain back?
I’ll revert to “Ante Up,” you’ll get your Barbie chain yapped
Tried to front in February, catch you in that Maybach
Show you how to use your name, you be usin’ your name wack
I’m sayin’, how you mix Nicki with a Minaj?
I’ma park this bitch, put Nicki in the garage
I’m gettin’ money like Nicky Barnes, I’m the big homie
I responded in less than 48 Hours; Nick Nolte
Gettin’ close like Nick Jonas, grippin’ the gauge
Then blaze off, Face Off, bitch, Nicolas Cage
You animated like Nickelodeon, you fake, bitch
Only the kids believe in you; you St. Nick
Now when I shoot Nick at Nite, they won’t understand it
I’m Wild’n Out, ’bout to hit Nick with the Cannon
How are you on the VMAs, actin’ like you hood?
Way across the stage, talkin’ about “Miley, what’s good?”
That’s Hannah Montana, she was always happy
You only fronted on Mariah ’cause Mariah don’t carry
Tried to disrespect Taylor ’cause Taylor wasn’t Swift enough
Pillsbury Doughgirl; Remy pick the biscuit up
I’m jealous? Bitch, you was happy when they took me
Best thing that ever happened to you was when they booked me
You said you never fucked Wayne—how stupid I look, B?
Get the picture, I’ll expose you, I’m kind of a bully
You named yourself Nicki Lewinsky, the mind of a rookie
‘Cause you was suckin’ his dick
And now he tired of your nookie
You claimed you never fucked Drake
Now that’s where you took me
You fucked the whole Empire—who you tryin’ to be, Cookie?
Boogie Down Bronx, I come out of the Boogie
To let you know real bitches never lie on their pussy
And stop talkin’ numbers, you signed a 360 deal
Through Young Money, through Cash Money, through Republic
Which means your money go through five niggas before you touch it
Any videos, promotions come out of your budget
Endorsements, tour and merchandise, they finger-fuck it
You make, like, 35 cents off of each ducat
I own my masters, bitch, independent
So for every sale I do, you gotta do like ten
Stop comparin’ yourself to Jay, you not like him
You a motherfuckin’ worker, not a boss like Rem
You’re done, them pop chicks ain’t get the news yet
Bitch, I pop chicks, yeah, and I’m the new vet
I kill rappers, and you good as dead, bitch
Talkin’ shit about me to a deaf bitch
And usually I have sympathy for the impaired
But not when you hard of hearin’ from untreated gonorrhea
But you point your fingers at me? I’m the bad girl
When she the one out here misleadin’ the black girls?
All these fake asses influenced by that girl
Dyin’ from botched surgeries—what a sad world!
But before the butt job, you was a Spongebob
Suckin’ cock for records, captain of the cum squad
And I got a few words for the moms of the young Barbz
Guess who supports a child molester? Nicki Minaj
You paid for your brother’s wedding? That’s hella foul
How you spendin’ money to support a pedophile?
He a walkin’ dead man, sendin’ threats to him
I guess that’s why they call you Barbie, you was next to Ken
Talkin’ about your money long and your foreign sick
Why you ain’t help your bro hide his cum from forensics?
You probably somewhere overseas, foreign sick
Thought you could fuck with me, by far Rem sick
Meek, Drake, Safaree, I see men in your pants
We call that Jelani, get it? Semen in your pants
Uh, I got trigger fingers, you got bitter fingers
Yeah, you must think you Drake and I’m Twitter fingers
VH1, watch this
You just got bodied by a Love & Hip-Hop bitch

[Outro]
Don’t ever in your fuckin’ life play with me
That’s on the set!
You tried it on the Rae Sremmurd record
You tried it on your little freestyle
They was both duds, just like every other one was duds
Just like this last one was a dud
But what you not gonna do is keep subbin’ me
Big… Pun!
I send a fuckin’ headshot, you dead, bitch!
Will not lose!