Going - Mark Battles, King Los

I’m done with the chattin'

I’m hoping y’all have fun with the rapping, rugged assassin

Nothing can pass us, stuck in molasses

Tricking the masses, lucky ass bastards

Said it once I won’t say it twice

Ex left she won’t make it right

Next check on the Vegas flight

MGM for the latest fight

Fall in love she won’t stay the night

Tell the judge I pay the price

Fallen thugs ain’t the crazy type

You know them are my niggas right?

Born a King we did it proper

Open eyes for the real imposter

Bar change a life like Willy Wonka

Barely famous might go to the Oscars

Wildin' out with my brother Los

Few groupie chicks and some other folks

Levitate serve one it’s dope

A million verses with a bunch of quotes

my city backwards

MIA with a pretty actress

Nah, the sex was decent but the head banging like Lenny Kravitz

If I say it you know I do it

Stay a hundred the flow the truest

They be running I show and prove it

Kill niggas on tracks like Tony Stewart

When this drops the game is finished

Wrap it up, AIDS convention

All you niggas better pay attention

Props to God cause he made me different

Niggas think I’m a vegan cause I eat beats

Who you seek on the sneak peek

Free leak for need freaks

Beep Beep got a street sweep

Leave me with the cheat sheet

Who you tryna rob?

F.O.D nigga fly or die

Throwing three’s with a lot of pride

Going, going, going

They got me going, going, going

They got me going, going, going

They got me going, they got me going

Wait for it…

My whole flow from Mars and it’s dumb

Your hoe roll with the squad when it come

Deep throat, nigga we drove cars in her tongue

She stroke these flows, the riot type

Require height?, I acquire higher heights

I fire ice, higher fire, tried to retire mic’s

What, you saying you getting lime light?

I was like, what with a Diet Sprite

Man I know what this collar like

You wish you was L’Chaim

I’m L’Chaim nice, no really like I am life

Hold up

Hide your wife, grab your guns

I wrap your son in bars, I’m a rapping son of a bitch

Bitches wrapped around son, no son of a bitch

My daddy was the sum of a pimp

I, staple your stomach and button your lip

Gun butt to the front of your shit

I wanted to piss on you while you was knocked out

But the cops was coming, my cock was stuck in front of of my zip

Ughh!

So I when I see you while I’m cocking my shit

And I tell you I got one in the tit

I’m either talking 'bout my gun or my dick

Running a hundred miles and running

Coming for niggas who think they wanna be something this summer

Coming I got that drummer drummer drumming drumming pumping nigga

Hit that Ferrari pump pump pump pump pump

Turn that nigga’s pumpkin into pumpernickel

That’s bread like, bread on your head if it ain’t a red light, keep

Going, going, going

They got me going, going, going

They got me going, going, going

They got me going, they got me going