King Kutt

[Intro]
I know you’re gonna dig this

[Verse 1]
I’m coming straight outta Compton
You niggas need to hear it more often
I’m royal, that mean I ain’t content with taking no losses
These rappers in my city need to quit the fuck-talking
When half of you niggas never traveled further than Joplin
I’m the formula, all of you niggas dying to taste me
Talked about Tech, but give up and left, I’d have replaced me
If you could, but ain’t a nigga in town that faze me
Got Papa, Rittz, or anybody you niggas did lately
I annihilate beats, read the minds of a feature
A handkerchief, knife and fork and a glass of wine when I eat ‘em
No monkey business but I cannot deny I’m the Caesar
I’m the only chief so how you gon’ say I ain’t the king then?
Either with me or against me, I’m the hardest, in short (???)
Regardless, got no pity for artists who don’t feel me
Kutt Calhoun, make ‘em remember the name
I’m the bolder nigga, plus I was the coldest at [lengthy bleep]

[Hook]
I’m a bad motherfucker (King Kutt)
King, King Kutt
King Kutt, Kutt, King Kutt
King, Kutt, King Kutt
Down with the king (King Kutt)
King Kutt, King Kutt (Black gold)
We got the street, suckas
Can you dig it?

[Verse 2]
I’m the artist these feminine-assed artists ain’t seen since
Straight Outta Compton, meaning you niggas ain’t seen shit
Y’all too busy shaking ass and getting dressed by a seamstress
Young Thugging? You niggas walk around dingaling-less
Yeah I said it, Sway in the Morning, Shade 45
97 The Beat, and Breakfast Club with Charlamagne God
Need to hear it, ‘cause ain’t nobody addressing the problem
When (???) was making sense, but when the sense is uncommon
Time to pause— these niggas selling their lives for attention
Not to mention you people willing to buy if you listen
Got your sons walking around, dancing, dressing like bitches
I tried to stomach it, but I couldn’t fathom the sickness
Like divine intervention, I’ma stop with the sauce
Step in and lay down the law, and teach them how to be raw
A miracle in your presence here to reckon with all
Rich Homie Quan, you’re cool but the rest of us all

[Hook]
I’m a bad motherfucker (King Kutt)
King, King Kutt
King Kutt, Kutt, King Kutt
King, Kutt, King Kutt
Down with the king (King Kutt)
King Kutt, King Kutt (Black gold)
We got the street, suckas
Can you dig it?

[Verse 3]
Never would I let an R&B nigga body me
Or Lauryn Hill me, our Breezy is killing ‘em softly
Saw street niggas focused on a chick, it’s camaraderie
And let ‘em have it, plus the radio stations corroborate
Spinning in rotation like an everyday hit
Your reputation sinking faster than an old battleship
Don’t hate me, I just be what these streets need
And my knees get so weak when streets show weakness
Raw, competition, that’s my hobby and job
To kill niggas, the lyrical sense and not like the cops do
Show on up in your dream just to remind that I got you
Like Freddy from Elm Street but won’t be wearing the costume
And I cut like Calhoun, they drop to their knees, it’s
Niggas bowing like they witnessed the coming of Jesus
No Hail Marys, confessions couldn’t save you from me, just
A basket under your head for when the king guillotines it

[Hook]
I’m a bad motherfucker (King Kutt)
King, King Kutt
King Kutt, Kutt, King Kutt
King, Kutt, King Kutt
Down with the king (King Kutt)
King Kutt, King Kutt (Black gold)
We got the street, suckas
Can you dig it?

[Verse 4]
Black Gold is a dynasty, got it up and it’s running
Like a Cosby plaintiff, I’m the nigga you never saw coming
Independent, dependable, with a bus full of gunners
Sniping everything in your sight, your favorite label’s most wanted
Ain’t no surprise, I did it all by my lonely, regardless
The same reason I’m here is how a nigga first started
From the bottom, I ate my way to the top— when you’re starving
You eat ‘til your belly big, now that’s a well-rounded artist
Still hungry, and niggas looking like filet mignon
And you’re lying if you’re saying that you don’t feel it, be gone
Yes, a lot of y’all’d rather listen to silliness from
What you hear on the day-to-day but I’m as real as they come
‘Cause I’m cold, way colder than Celsius, stay frozen to death and this
Mean Melvin is Kelvin and can’t nobody contest with it
Unless they dumb, drunken to death
Either way it’s probably a tactic just to market theyself
Ain’t no denying

[Hook]
I’m a bad motherfucker (King Kutt)
King, King Kutt
King Kutt, Kutt, King Kutt
King, Kutt, King Kutt
Down with the king (King Kutt)
King Kutt, King Kutt (Black gold)
We got the street, suckas
Can you dig it?

[Outro]
So now that you’ve heard the record
What the fuck you gon’ do about it, bitch?