2 Chainz - Lost Kings (with Lyrics & Subtitles)
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2 Chainz - Lost Kings (en) Lyrics
by RentAnAdviser.com
Got, Got it on Smash
Turn me up, Josh
And I'm like, how the hell a nigga
supposed to breathe? (How
we supposed to breathe?)
If all they do is kill off all the kings
(They killing all the kings)
Every other night, a different murder
scene (It's another murder scene)
Every other night, a different
murder scene
And I got a full vision
Tryna see my son grow up, and
I can't shoot different
Had a nightmare about me killin',
it was too vicious
I feel like, how the hell a
nigga supposed to breathe?
If all they do is kill
off all the kings
I've been thinking like a trapper
since the pacifier
In the mix like jambalaya
When I was thirty-eight, I
a-forty-five you (Fire)
Mortify you; more money I make,
more stuff I'm buyin'
Troup died at the Chevron,
Big Rock beside him
William died tryna help his sister
from domestic violence
Stayed by the airport, all I
heard was planes and sirens
My DNA despise a coward
I'm black, rich and educated
so I got the power (Power)
I think like a king, act like a king
When you was on the trapper lane,
I was on the triple-beam
Promethazine with my pinky ring, yeah
Team blowing up like creatine, yeah
Queen swell
I'ma protect myself if you
don't mean well (Fire)
And I'm like, how the hell a
nigga supposed to breathe?
If all they do is kill off
all the kings (Yeah)
Tryna see my son grown up, and
I can't shoot different (Ugh)
Had a nightmare about me killin',
it was too vicious (Yeah)
I feel like, how the hell a
nigga supposed to breathe?
(Supposed to breathe)
If all they do is kill off
all the kings (Oh, oh)
I'm a king now (Yeah)
Niggas playin' spot 'em-got 'em
Had that forty in my Levis
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
And on the street side (Street side)
You wasn't out there on them corners
with them shortys tryna
get back (Tryna get back)
We was raised from all them different
rappers they just claimin' shit
You ain't lose nobody from your
block, you just be namin'
shit (They just namin')
Niggas get out of they body like
I won't shoot 'em, I hate this
famous shit (Yeah, yeah)
And I'm from the block where your
homie'll kill you, that's that
dangerous shit (Yeah, yeah)
The way he dressin' up for our block,
he a stylist (He a stylist)
I hate talkin' to my dog on
a tablet (On a tablet)
They were last eight hundred of
a thousand (Of a thousand)
He was my mans, but he traitored,
he a coward
And I'm like, how the hell
a nigga supposed to breathe?
(Supposed to breathe)
Had a nightmare 'bout me killin',
it was too vicious
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