[ Featuring JaKObo ]
I'm a young king keep my crown in a brown bag
Brown bag, brown bag
I ain't finna trip I was down bad
Down bad, down bad
Down bad, now I'm up up
High up where the clouds be, smoking blunts like they got bounties
Grains slipping thru time piece, game different up in my league
Polymer frame in the holster, she clean
Standing ovation, you wont hear a thing
Stay in formation you moving with me
Team from the basement, I feel when you bleed
They speak on your name, I won't let that shit breathe
Bring me the ruckus, I handle with ease
Most of yall puppets, they moving the strings
Pop culture focus ain't f*cking with me
Neck in them chains and you claiming you free? Couldn't be me
Die how you live: so you dying for nada
Tengo mi juego from thousand year scholars
Work like my Papa
La familia familiar, from field strips to indica
They felt me back in Nineveh, almost got caught up in Ithaca
Pounds in the back of Pacifica, reminisce while I switch up peninsulas
On the bridge for the first, ain't no urge to jump
Just a God and I got it tucked
Two pounds and a note pad, two generations Granny house a dope pad
Back in practice, coach told me that it go fast
Gotta feel for yourself, fill your own glass
Rogue one, get the plans bring the hope back
Forefront just balance and it gon last
All that other bullshit on coat rack
If it don't blame the mirror that you look at and you know that:
I'm a young king keep my crown in a brown bag
Brown bag, brown bag
I ain't finna trip I was down bad
Down bad, down bad
Down bad, now I'm up up
Keep my name out yo mouth, leave a bad taste
I cant do none with doubt, keep it that way
I can't pay bills with clout, this a cash Chase
Whoever told you it wasn't was capping big
I'm flippin' scripts and hats and splittin wigs
I feel aristocratic if you wit the static, well then pitter patter get to it bitch
I can tell that you ain't with the shits
I ain't claimin to be wit the shits
But I bet I would ride before you'd let it rip
It's either ride or die, so imma let em rip
The only thing I write is death sentences
Just might end your life with my penmanship
I need a few more broads, I need a two door car
I need a few more bars just to end this shit, best remember bitch that:
I'm a young king keep my crown in a brown bag
Brown bag, brown bag
I ain't finna trip I was down bad
Down bad, down bad
Down bad, now I'm up up
