king is black

Verse 1:

It ain’t the one with the gun, It’s the rebel with the mettle

My tongue weighs a ton, I need a heavy instrumental

You’ll get stung by my lungs, they can’t get up to my level

Won’t succumb to the scum, I’ll beat the devil with a shovel

Then paint him with some gravel

Tattle, tell them rappers if they really want to dabble

With the king, saddle up I’ll bring my gavel to the battle

I’m a lion to you cattle, you’ll unravel when I...

Chorus:

Who’s the king?...

Black.

Verse 2:

Bow fast, no Ramadan, I’m a phenomenon

And I’m for real, ‘cause (cos-) y’all play, like Comic-con

I’m tricky like DMC

The kid Blackie, spiffy icon of the 20s

Like Jack Dempsey, here to empty

Every emcee with TNT

Look, I wake up with the crown

Then ride a golden horse through your town

Then drive the Trojan horse through your town

Then make you rap clowns lick the crumbs that I toss to the ground

Then I...

End Verse:

[I said I’m] Tricky with that sickly flow

Slickly slitting this beat’s throat

Trickling silky swiftly strictly graphic since N64

Spit acid like them 60s folk

Hippie-dippy hippies, trippy, kissing, sipping whiskey

Flipping, skipping, singing indie folk