The Weeknd - Kings lyrics

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The Weeknd - Kings lyrics

[Produced by The Weeknd & Jason “DaHeala” Quenneville] [Verse 1] As I proceed to go dig through an old crib Hold kids as I plunder through a pharaoh house Thug Bones in gilded apparel piss But arrow heads then let the marrow out I literally won't leave litter since I've received the Brita And when the sea leaves the land, who will feed the rivers, huh? Crazy busy, make me, make me miss ya even when I'm with ya If a phone calls in the club, but the music is too loud around to hear it Do I still have to clear it? Example: now I don't let samples in my lyrics Myth be told, 60 souls perished in the parish bill Wrote a pair of wills on 50 scrolls with a pair of quills Answered the question 'Americause?' Amerik**s Been living inside in envelopes with a pair of sills Tall man like terror bills downfall from a pair of stilts wearin' heels, that's high As I proceed to find silver line in a stalagmite Cat eyes and scarab crowns on a black grace Too wave, not to see bubonic plague in your rat face Practice on the uttering until it lactates Then begin the bu*tering of the pancakes Push it to the margin flood the garden to the land lakes Associate with mates who spit inside of they handshakes, yeah (Pharaoh, pharaoh, pharaoh) Yeah, yeah, yeah [Verse 2] As I walk through the shadow of San Fernando Valley Walkin' like fingers how, how they rally on pianos Up and down the dial until I WKRP, in Cincinnati Let's settle on the station like "Last gas for 100 miles" May I have this last dance? Grab her hands then proceed to do the runnin' child Vindaloo the stomach growls, introduced to somethin' wild Until we see civilization, Walmarts and Chik-a-fallacious Patience, our art isn't intimidation But you can't process the progress If you get your style cues from outta Complex Nah n***a, that ain't hot No, no and no shots, no boas and no thots I walk 'em over the motorboat on the yachts To go so sober on all the shirk and on overdose on salats, huh? Francis Ford Coppola's spoken plots Hyannis Port localists rollin' in open drops Titanic corpse smokin' from openin' those with chops Lycanic moonlit leader loc'in with loaded Glocks, huh!

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