T HA F REAKSTYLAZ P OST A LBUM


| L. Mitchell |

| 11. I'mma King! |

:: L. Mitchell ::

Lavish living added spending
In the middle of madness grinning
Poverty placed me in the lower class but I was absent sinning
Post-tramatic tragic endings
Concealing the symtoms
Death is a scar that doesn’t heal for the living
I got Revolutionary lawyers; appealing the system
If they locc me up then I’mma build in the prisons
the judge is like God, gives you life or death.
For real, what’s the diffrence
Muderers kill or be killed like the victims
My past doesn’t start with my birthdate
I’m aprt of the first race
And that’s why they hate in the worst way
Can’t keep a good guy down…
we got a lot of potholes…
But by how we pitch, you would think the hood got mounds
I’m only breakin’ down goods by pounds
I don’t go gram from gram…
Give you a paccage dogg.. let you go hand to hand
My vocab is long, but I sling around slang
And I’m banging down queens…
You you ca’ say that I’m King!

A Hip-Hop-Rap master; and I clap to kill
Soul of a Blacc Panther; but I ain’t from Jaccsonville
Shining with the jewelry
Fresh braids, matching wave-cap, crown tilted, filled with
Diamonds and rubies
A don with Don Perion in the Ace spot
Century old grape juice that I drink hot
Think not? Don’t be afraid to use ya brain
Young enough o be a prince; but you ca’ say I’mma king!

Buy me a bottle of Goose and a model that’s loose
Spend money like I got it to lose
4 twenties with the top down
disrespect and get shot down
bulletproof tints for the cops now
hollow-tips fill the clips
bags of piff, make the blocc smile
I‘mma about to have this whole shit on locc down
Might get locced down, cuz I won’t speak a word
Would have copped some more ice;
But I don’t want freezer burn
I juss wanna relax with a bag of weed and burn
Make money with no tax; what gives me the nerve
I get pussy while you chase whores
And no I’m not a hustler; you gon’ get what you paid for
I got jams if you wanna vibe
Grmas if you want a high
Storylines where the glocc jams when you wanna die
A lot written, and as the plot thiccens
I’mma ball-out til I’m in a box missing…..

A Hip-Hop-Rap master; and I clap to kill
Soul of a Blacc Panther; but I ain’t from Jaccsonville
Shining with the jewelry
Fresh braids, matching wave-cap, crown tilted, filled with
Diamonds and rubies
A don with Don Perion in the Ace spot
Century old grape juice that I drink hot
Think not? Don’t be afraid to use ya brain
Young enough o be a prince; but you ca’ say I’mma king!

Vigorous work ethic, verse better, living it
Ad-libbing it, hurt letters, like bad penmanship
Sad hypocrites
Freedom of speech, than add censorship
Sinners get, baptized to sin again
If you know God send him in
So I ca’ sit with him
And discuss shit, that’s got me disgusted
Keep condoms for sex I’m feinding
I’ve been blessed with meaning
And cursed with the love for symbols of success and semen
Untaught myself made me stressed believe it
Left me needing answers to questions, speeding
My flow helps me deliver the magic
If it ain’t no cure,
Than send to Africa whatever they giving to Magic
Imagine, life with without struggle and pain
Seems like everything I got, I had to hustle to gain
Surrounded by darker clouds; let it rain
I’m Blacc and proud to be dark and brown; I’mma king!

A Hip-Hop-Rap master; and I clap to kill
Soul of a Blacc Panther; but I ain’t from Jaccsonville
Shining with the jewelry
Fresh braids, matching wave-cap, crown tilted, filled with
Diamonds and rubies
A don with Don Perion in the Ace spot
Century old grape juice that I drink hot
Think not? Don’t be afraid to use ya brain
Young enough o be a prince; but you ca’ say I’mma king!

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