Number 5 by K. Luci Lyrics
Two words: white cops, black lives, gunshots
T-shirts, teddy bears, hell's gate, welcome here
Pistol grip, we live in fear, been that way 300 years
White man doesn't care, everybody move
Yes, I'm a east coast nigga, still got a West flow
I'm a gentleman at most times, still disrespectful
So pardon me Paola, I'm just trying to be successful
You get mad if you want
Okay, I'm rooted, Luci is zooted, just me and this marijuana
Got thoughts of Columbiana, I wanna toot it, no booting
And baby girl, if you hear this, just let me know what your mood is
I'm serious; no kidding, no scary shit
But anyway, a nigga looking forward to inspiring a massacre
P90's for days, it'll be bloodier than afterbirth
Afterwards, I'm pretty sure that nobody will fuck with me
Especially when I'm on Investigation Discovery
But at the moment, I'm cooking like Iron Chef America
At my sister's concert trying to hold up social barriers
Introverted, plus I get uninterested with certain things
I only came here for her to sing
After I leave, I'm hitting the books, plotting to make revenue
Do it till I upchuck chunks of undigested food
People say "relax, kid" - fuck that
You know how long I've been waiting to have this?
Man I never had shit
Young half-wit, trying to stay away from the bad shit
But it seems no matter what, I'm making enemies
Well actually, I just keep on making progression
And people that don't feel it choose to no longer be friends with me
I know they'll regret it, I just keep it to myself, though
Ask anyone, they'll tell you I'm crazy
Sociopathic, psychopathic bastard, ready to fall
You ever been ready to murder for no reason at all?
That's why I talk about killing so much, I got it planned out
But lyrics are evidence, so I ain't speaking my plans out
All the experts would tell you that I'm moral-less
I'm here to tell you that they're all correct, more-or-less
I'm more focused on success and less moral standards
Since the Pampers, I have yet to be catered and pampered
So why wait on something that ain't never happening?
That's like waiting on a black dad to come back again
Or the dead to rise, or third term for Obama
Or end to racism, or Trump to end up dead tonight
Something tells me that it's better off in heads and minds
Spread your wings in center, never let them go far left or right
Hood politicians trying to get your vote
Demo-Crips and Re-Blood-igans need your ballots, don't you know?
I'm a part of the K. Lamarian Party, I'm bigger than this
Ignorant, niggerish, hypocritical, militant shit
Light a candle in memoriam of past me, I know I'm happy
Face down in that box so everyone can kiss my ass cheeks
Hold on, one at a time, and make it snappy
This line is large as a mastiff
Living Joe Blow, I wasn't so-so enormous
Now I'm Pac back from Cuba, getting blowed postmortem
"Luci really a rapper, he the motherfucking dopest"
Bitch, if that's the case, you would've copped roseGXLD, then
Bitches lie, niggas lie, Jews and Christians lie
Obama lied, Bush lied, even Clinton lied
You're lying, saying that you love me so you get inside
But you're beat, pussy-money-weed ain't my kryptonite
T-shirts, teddy bears, hell's gate, welcome here
Pistol grip, we live in fear, been that way 300 years
White man doesn't care, everybody move
Yes, I'm a east coast nigga, still got a West flow
I'm a gentleman at most times, still disrespectful
So pardon me Paola, I'm just trying to be successful
You get mad if you want
Okay, I'm rooted, Luci is zooted, just me and this marijuana
Got thoughts of Columbiana, I wanna toot it, no booting
And baby girl, if you hear this, just let me know what your mood is
I'm serious; no kidding, no scary shit
But anyway, a nigga looking forward to inspiring a massacre
P90's for days, it'll be bloodier than afterbirth
Afterwards, I'm pretty sure that nobody will fuck with me
Especially when I'm on Investigation Discovery
But at the moment, I'm cooking like Iron Chef America
At my sister's concert trying to hold up social barriers
Introverted, plus I get uninterested with certain things
I only came here for her to sing
After I leave, I'm hitting the books, plotting to make revenue
Do it till I upchuck chunks of undigested food
People say "relax, kid" - fuck that
You know how long I've been waiting to have this?
Man I never had shit
Young half-wit, trying to stay away from the bad shit
But it seems no matter what, I'm making enemies
Well actually, I just keep on making progression
And people that don't feel it choose to no longer be friends with me
I know they'll regret it, I just keep it to myself, though
Ask anyone, they'll tell you I'm crazy
Sociopathic, psychopathic bastard, ready to fall
You ever been ready to murder for no reason at all?
That's why I talk about killing so much, I got it planned out
But lyrics are evidence, so I ain't speaking my plans out
All the experts would tell you that I'm moral-less
I'm here to tell you that they're all correct, more-or-less
I'm more focused on success and less moral standards
Since the Pampers, I have yet to be catered and pampered
So why wait on something that ain't never happening?
That's like waiting on a black dad to come back again
Or the dead to rise, or third term for Obama
Or end to racism, or Trump to end up dead tonight
Something tells me that it's better off in heads and minds
Spread your wings in center, never let them go far left or right
Hood politicians trying to get your vote
Demo-Crips and Re-Blood-igans need your ballots, don't you know?
I'm a part of the K. Lamarian Party, I'm bigger than this
Ignorant, niggerish, hypocritical, militant shit
Light a candle in memoriam of past me, I know I'm happy
Face down in that box so everyone can kiss my ass cheeks
Hold on, one at a time, and make it snappy
This line is large as a mastiff
Living Joe Blow, I wasn't so-so enormous
Now I'm Pac back from Cuba, getting blowed postmortem
"Luci really a rapper, he the motherfucking dopest"
Bitch, if that's the case, you would've copped roseGXLD, then
Bitches lie, niggas lie, Jews and Christians lie
Obama lied, Bush lied, even Clinton lied
You're lying, saying that you love me so you get inside
But you're beat, pussy-money-weed ain't my kryptonite