STS - Crown On The Ground lyrics

[Verse 1: STS] They told me from the gate, I have to battle it out With T-I-P you homie, about who the king of the south They told me from the gate, I have to battle it out With T-I-P, homie, who the king of the south They told me from the gate, I have to battle it out With T-I-P, homie, about who the king of the South They don't know what I'm about, or what I bring forth His position is safe, I want the king of New York You know I'm ignorant, I'm arrogant, I lift the skirt like Marilyn Run up in lady liberty and leave that p**y caroling Flow as dope as h**n, I could supply Maryland And a david mamo(?) or you know what I stand for Tell that b**h my hand so, lately I been feelin' me Doper than I been before and lately I been k**in' me Pop your top no Billy B, Geto Boys no Willie D I steal cable from the neighbors, and my b**h on EBT I'm so sick CDC, Gave away my CD free New addition to the game bobbin' to your DVD Chillin' in my BBC, ?? and DNG LMFAO at anybody trying to be like me Let's go [Hook] Pow! Your crown's on the Ground Pow! Your crown's on the Ground Pick it up, it's in the lost and found [Verse 2: Dice Raw] Yo, king of kings - the lord of lords I finally arrived, baby hold your applause Cause kings lose crowns, but most are just frauds If you glad I'm still here, let me see your heads nod It's a royal holiday, yeah, pa** the eggnog Royal holiday, just obey God Cause I been on (dang?), given one hell of a day job My pockets stay fat, and my dick stay hard My enemies stay down by the graveyard Laying in the moat getting pissed on by a ghost Kings are f**ed up, but it's all in your approach But who needs the ha**le, I'll just stay in the castle Yo, bow your head, as I raise my sword And off goes a motherf**ers head when I'm bored I want to hear the trumpets, and see the red carpets Cross me, your head will be sticking out the tar pit [Hook] [Verse 3: Truck North] I hit the scene like a motherf**ing rubber force Throwin' rocks at the throne, oh, but of course This the emperors new groove They lacking fundamentals out here in the new school, they lost So run and tell the kings is back n***as want to crown the dead, but the dead don't rap Let's make a deal on the fact of the matter Slap you in your face, tell your queen shut the chatter Then offer with the bread of a delegated rapper Pardon my laughter as the hate cascades from the rafters Wave(?) a player faster than Mars - I made his girl randy I does things my way Carlito Brigante Hit 'em with some sh** that's off the Richter like Andy Sipping on brandy with a loaded clip handy I write murder like Jessica Tandy So lick a shot, and pay him on the spot, I command thee [Hook]