Kick In The Door Lyrics

Kick In The Door lyrics

Intro: repeat 2X  

 This goes out to you  

 This goes out to you  and you  and you  and you  

 Verse One:  

 Your reign on the top was short like leprechauns  

 As I crush so called willies  thugs  and rapper dons  

 Get in that ass  quick fast  like Romma Don  

 Its that rap phenomenon  

 Don Dadda  fuck Poppa  

 You got ta  call me  Francis M.H. White  

 In tank light totes  tote eyein  

 Was told in shootout  

 Stay low, and keep firin  

 Keep extra clips for extra shit  

 Who's next to flip, on that cat with that grip on rack  

 The mo shady, cranky baby  

 Ain't no tellin where I may be  

 May see me in DC at Howard Homes  

 Comin, with my man Capone, Dummin, fuckin somethin  

 You should know my stilo  

 Went from 10 G's for blow to 30 Gs a show  

 To orgies with hoes I never seen before  

 So, Jesus, get off the Notorious penis  

 before I squeeze and bust  

 If theres beef between us  

 We can settle it  

 With that chrome-metal shit  

 I make it hot, like a kettle get  

 You're delicate, you better get  

 Who sent ya?  

 You're still peddle shit  

 I got more rides than Great Adventure  

 Biggie  

 Chorus: repeat 4X  

 Kick in the door wavin the four-four  

 All you heard was poppa don't hit no more  

 Verse Two:  

 On ya mark, get set  

 when I spark, ya wet  

 Look how dark it get  

 When ya marked with death  

 Should I start ya breath  

 Or should I let you die  

 In fear you start to cry, ask why  

 Lyrically, I'm worser  

 Don't front the word sick  

 You cursed it, but rehearsed it  

 I drop unexpectedly like bird shit  

 You perps get, stuck quickly for raw tease and show money  

 Don't forget the publishin  

 I punish em  

 I'm done with them  

 Son, I'm surprised you run with them  

 I think they got cum in them  

 Cuz they, nothin but dicks  

 Tryin to blow up like nitro and dynamite sticks  

 Man I smoke hydro rock diamonds, thats sick  

 Got pay off my flow, rhyme with my own clique  

 Take trips to Cairo, layin with yo bitch  

 I know you prayin you was rich  

 Fuckin prick  

 When I see ya I'ma  

 Chorus  

 Verse Three:  

 This goes out to those that choose to use  

 Disrespectful view on the King of NY  

 Fuck that, why try, throw bleach in ya eye  

 Now ya Braille'in it, stash that light shit  

 Or scalin it  

 Conscience of ya nonsense in 88,  

 Sold more powder than Johnson and Johnson  

 Tote steel like Bronson  

 Vigilante  

 You wanna get on son, you need to ask me  

 Ain't no other king in this rap thing  

 They siblings  

 Nothing but maturin, one shot, they disappearin  

 Its ill when, MC's used to be on crazy shit  

 Took home, Ready To Die, listen, study shit  

 Now they on some money shit, successful out the blue  

 They light weight, fragilly, my nine milly  

 Make the white shake, thats why my money never funny  

 And you still recoupin, stupid