Issue No 115 Crown Me Lyrics


Crown Me by Issue No. 115

Hold up my nigga, staying in that big truck
Ain't nobody strong as us, in God we trust and those who bust
Illest nigga spitting, y'all niggas ain't seeing me
Ten chains on while your son wanna be me
Fuck a buck, the teachers once schooling me
Front row at the church, yeah, I'm high style rosary
Came up at a pharmacy, niggas on the corner
See, I have so much work had to bag it like some groceries
I swear to God if I didn't love her I'd fucking kill her
Because she swallow and her sister is a fucking spitter
Project, living crack in the hallway, like MJ my shooters make you fade away
Calm down, my nigga, I'm getting a lil' nervous
Don't let this AK 47 nigga serve its purpose
A lot of whips in the garage, I guess I'm still a slave
You old enough to have a gurney, you can have a grave

Listen up, I might fool you if you listen closely
A lot of damage, you can see it from the fucking nose-bleeds
Scales gotta lift, nigga, I'm moving cane, our way to hell on this Aaliyah plane
Get my black girl, here the finest pussy
She stick her tongue out, I say baby, come and share it with me
Hold the lights off, my jewels on, I swear I used to love her 'cause she looked like Nia Long
Always kept it 100, never 50/50
Committing genocide serving crack out my Bentley
First we taking shots and then I bumped the bottle
I used to move that girl like a plus model
Real nigga, homes, never paid taxes, chasing this whole money down the high tax racket
Team full of shooters, I play field Jackson
Ain't no actor, been a nigga real action

My jewels on, you gotta crown me
Got the money and the power, you gotta crown me
We at the top, we still run the bottom
Counting all this money, you gotta crown me
No jewels on, you still gotta crown me
Living out our dreams, you gotta crown me
We started broke but we came to rich
If I can rule the world you gotta crown me

All praises due to the most high
Arm, lega, lega, arm, head, no bowtie
Jeffrey Boulevard, let them flows fly
Hundred spokes on the coupe as I flow by
You gotta crown me, no purple bag, nigga
I've been dope since Kriss Kross rocked the sag, nigga
Double G, belt buckle Sacks to have, nigga
You a running joke, when sprinting you make me laugh, nigga
Brain game, poet laureate in his prime
Chicago cut crime rib when a nigga die
What you not, that's what I is
A decade's gone by, I'm still in the bizz
Hundred thousand soul, no plax nigga
But if I took your ass to chase show you axe, nigga
A ghetto prom queen dream, a hood rat's vision of getting cream
Gold diggers crave what the homies say
Either way I'm in their face like '
Shout town to B town, LA and the D town, don't play dumb you fucking lame
I'm on TV now, bitch
If I had a ring, I would let you kiss it
But since I got a dick, won't you go and lick it
I know you're getting down on a lot and kick it
Fried wings, fried hard, fries and a biscuit
That's your consolation prize every time you visit
Welcome to the mind of a Shy town nigga
Fine cars, fine hoes, fine liquor
East side where a nigga stay, 7:30, yeah, that shit is crazy

My jewels on, you gotta crown me
Got the money and the power, you gotta crown me
We at the top, we still run the bottom
Counting all this money, you gotta crown me
No jewels on, you still gotta crown me
Living out our dreams, you gotta crown me
We started broke but we came to rich
If I can rule the world you gotta crown me

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