King Frank May - Where Will I Go

Logic says shooters shoot and dump the burner off
His work was short, take 'em out and front the earner's cost
To a runner who solely works for his mother
I'm only his first connect to getting her out the comfort, of
Stunting off with her Katie purse, what she got for her lady work
He ain't the type to get nice, he'd rather pay me first
He's like the type to get stripes, although he hates the dirt
He ain't here for the hype, in ways he's chasing church
There's divinity there, in his piercing stare
That's gonna' take him far, but that's what got him here
A port retired to one of twenty suppliers
Who got the weight to instate a couple dozen with priors
A couple hundred we fired, uh, let the rivers tell it
What if they could talk, the way the river's smelling

Uh, check the waves on a negus
Bitch I'm tracksuit fresh, 7 days on a negus
They wanna' make my death, you know make my mesh
Give a field negus time, 'cause I bang my chest
I'm still trill negus, and my soul got a pulse
A Moor's never poor; is surreal what I've forced
From gentrified and itemized chattel men and then colonized
I've been hitting the dollar sign, silver lining we prophesied
They steady trying but they lose right here
This shit, rocket science, what we do right here
Like calculated hypothesis, all considered astrology's
Just to case on a property, all this shit for some robberies, but
What can I say, except my Kulture is true
I'm like a Magi with the shit, I give my wisdom for you

To the colonial states, I'm what they hate and ban
To ambassadors, what they need in a business man
To cut the middle man, oh we talking this trade talk
I know the ins and outs, shit we been in and out of foreign detainments
Christian countries that hunt me with shell companies, you name it
I been making arrangements, with my brotherhood, fellowships
10 Percent if you settle this
No business at my estate, unless you run it through my freight
Negus I'm the boss, chief, and CFO
All of the paper routes that make it out, I see ebb flow
And don't you cross me, you only give me reason; shoot the prices up
On everything, the engines, and the fuels, and the spices up

Written by:
Tauren Robinson El Bey

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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