It's boss hogg Kyleon, and I'm fuckin' with the king

We bout to drop a fo' in a twenty ounce blue cream

I place the order out in cali. for the p.t.

We get money while you niggas still asleep, and a

It's three in the morning, in the kitchen cooking oz.s

Block to bleed, niggas to feed, if I drop' em on 12

comin back 21

It's 80 sippers out the book, I move' em one by one

See my hands is fast, my cook game raw

I don't need no pyrex, gimme a coffe mug jar

And I whip it to the left, whip it to the right

Move it all around till they cook it air tight

Let it dry, pop it out the jar, straight to the scale

Wrap it up in plastic, straight to the mail

It's boss hogg Kyleon, nigga Mike D

Bleeds the block cause I am the streets

Here we go

Kyleon and the King of the Ghetto

Nigga we ain't got no love for you hoes

All we tryna do is keep collecting dough

Go get it, and come back get that white as snow

Candied doors, yeah they open up and close

Run up on us bitch you won't run up no more

Cause we will slide yo bitch ass across the flo, flo,

flo

I know y'all rappers can't stand

The fact that I'm back fresh outta jail

Also focused on nothin but makin my mail

Ain't got no time to waste, cause the rap game is damn

near dead

Kyleon and the King of the Ghetto, came to raise rap

from it's death bed

Every song they play on the radio is bullshit homie

Them niggas got they blow up, but we got that good shit

homie

Matter fact you might even overdose

Cause I've been known to cause blood clots

I should been known to be a killa, but a bitch killa I

never was not

I've always kept it real, even when everbody around me

was fake

They don't make like me no more, my kind don't break

under pressure

It's death before dishonor nigga

So that means before a rat, like mickey mouse

I'll be another job for the grave digger

I ain't going back behind the fences with the razors

If I'm locked up in the penitentiary, I can't make no

paper

So the last time I went, was the last time I'm ever

gone be in

Instead of a 5 by 6 cell then a big brick home, that's

what I live in...

Here we go,

Kyleon and the King of the Ghetto

Nigga we ain't got no love for you hoes

All we tryna do is keep collecting dough

Go get it, and come back get that white as snow

Candied doors, yeah they open up and close

Run up on us bitch you won't run up no more

Cause we will slide yo bitch ass across the flo, flo,

flo

Now every time I ride, I got a pistol on my side

Screwed Up Click until it's over on the Southside

I keep my mind on my money, and money on my mind

I ain't got no time no play, I'm on a 24 hour grind

Haters wanna see me fallin off of my game

They hatin' cause when they see me I'm havin thangs

Dig these blues, if you jack me, I'm jacking you back

24/7 on my clothes, I keep my hand on my strap...

See I'm somethin like a playa, somethin like a pimp

Gangsta strut on when when I limp like this

Is re-turn of rapper slash the hood fella

Lookin for a rap to get my groove back like Stella

Still got a sack of that A-1 good yella

With a baby glock, ready to rock up out fellas

Hit me on the cella, ain't a damn thang change

Yeah, (you know me) nigga I'm still the drank man...

Here we go

Kyleon and the King of the Ghetto

Nigga we ain't got no love for you hoes

All we tryna do is keep collecting dough

Go get it, and come back get that white as snow

Candied doors, yeah they open up and close

Run up on us bitch you won't run up no more

Cause we will slide yo bitch ass across the flo, flo,

flo