King Los
Pay Up
Intro Soundbite:
It ain’t just about the money
It’s nothing
Know what it’s about?
It’s about fucking those skeezers like that right there
It's about driving them fly ass cars
And it’s never gonna be about nothing
Told you bout a n***a like me

Verse 1:
Hey yo this shit is getting critical, you n***as getting pitiful,
Thinking minuscule, I think they thinking I’m in the school,
No, I’m into schooling these foolish n***as who bend the rules
If you don’t want the ceiling to cave in you gotta bend the roof
Bend the truth to make a straight liar out a crooked n***a,
In my hood it be Ks bucking but I ain’t a Brooklyn n***a
Look here n***a
You girl look here cause this the look here n***a,
It’s magic, you get no looks here n***a
No it’s magic, you get no looks, here n***a,
You pebbles in the pond only on your first ripple,
I’m Jordan’s first dribble, Larry Bird's first triple,
I'm beyond you n***as, a bionic writer
I’m tiger with the iron, the eye on the tiger
An iconic n***a, hikin' on the sun
Snappin' early like I told my n***as hike it on the one, HUT
And before you get a HUT 2
I’ll hunt you down and even show up at your hut too
Speaking of hustle, your bitch just get to these loose balls,
Took her to see Jaws 2 and she gave me them 2 jaws
But my man gave me them 2 jars
The purple that had us doing circles like we in new cars,
I planted a bomb, I’m about to bomb planets
My plan is for you n***as to go into a calm panic
Lyrical armed bandit, bombs get your arms bandaged
One palm planning to get your whole arm handed
Back to you then bitch I get back to you
As I’m back to it in that Maybach and I back through you
You ain’t bad as me, I’m bad for you and bad to you
Chop you in half n***a, you’ll happen to have two you
While having it happen to you, do you have it at all?
I’m stabbing your doll and I don’t mean practicing black voodoo
I’m that doodoo, matter of fact I’m a rap guru
You crap poopoo, whack booboo, I rap coocoo
Who you? Just a n***a I gotta pry apart
And black on your track like tire marks
Attired mark, n***a I don’t buy your heart
You should go and buy a heart, try to spark a fire starter
And throw your book in the fireplace
Retire gracefully fully, back in this bitch
Packing the mack in the back of the hip
Having the sickest miraculous shit that happened to hit
Having them hits, happy to shit on them rappers that bitch
Trapping you bitch, gripping them bricks, we’ll hustle n***a
Just hustle harder than other n***as
Cause I’m from it n***a, success don’t make me above it n***a,
Yeah I love my n***as, they might fuck your bummy rat
You know, when we with your Pooh we never bring your honey back
Woah, no, homie don’t say that
He hits him in the head, homie don’t play that
Way back, when I was just bumping Pun's shit
Catchin' every pun cause Cannabis had dumb flips
Eminem killed Dre and Kim in his raps
It Was Written was my favorite, I slayed a ten minute flat rhyme for Puffy
And that n***a gave me a deal
Then the feds came along and damn near gave me the chills
Cause they took all my n***as, my n***as took to the streets
They took our studio from us, they took my hooks and my beats
But now I’m hooked, I’m a beast, and I’m back and I’m better
I was becoming the king, now I’m back for the cheddar
Pay up