King Kunta Lyrics – Spectre (Rapper)

I got a bone to pick
I don’t want you monkey-mouth motherf*ckers
Sittin’ in my throne again
Ayy, ayy, n!gga, what’s happenin’?
K-Dot back in the hood, n!gga!
I’m mad (He mad!), but I ain’t stressin’
True friends, one question

B!tch, were you when I was walkin’?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah
B!tch, where you when I was walkin’?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
When you got the yams—(What’s the yams?)

The yam is the power that be
You can smell it when I’m walkin’ down the street
(Oh yes, we can, oh yes, we can)
I can dig rappin’, but a rapper with a ghostwriter?
What the f*ck happened? (Oh no!)
I swore I wouldn’t tell, but most of y’all sharing bars
Like you got the bottom bunk in a two-man cell (A two-man cell)
Something’s in the water (Something’s in the water)
And if I gotta brown-nose for some gold
Then I’d rather be a bum than a motherf*ckin’ baller (Oh yeah!)

B!tch, where you when I was walkin’?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
King Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah
B!tch, where you when I was walkin’?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
When you got the yams—(What’s the yams?)

The yam brought it out of Richard Pryor
Manipulated Bill Clinton with desires
Twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five days times two
I was contemplatin’ gettin’ off stage
Just to go back to the hood, see my enemy, and say… (Oh yeah)

B!tch, where you when I was walkin’?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah
B!tch, where you when I was walkin’?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him

You goat-mouth mammyf*cker
I was gonna kill a couple rappers, but they did it to themselves
Everybody’s suicidal, they ain’t even need my help
This shit is elementary, I’ll probably go to jail
If I shoot at your identity and bounce to the left
Stuck a flag in my city, everybody’s screamin’, “Compton!”
I should probably run for mayor when I’m done, to be honest
And I put that on my momma and my baby boo too
Twenty million walkin’ out the court buildin’, woo-woo!
Aw, yeah, f*ck the judge
I made it past twenty-five, and there I was
A little nappy-headed n!gga with the world behind him
Life ain’t shit but a fat vagina
Screamin’, “Annie, are you okay? Annie, are you okay?”
Limo tinted with the gold plates
Straight from the bottom, this the belly of the beast
From a peasant to a prince to a motherf*ckin’ king (Oh yeah)

B!tch, where you when I was walkin’—*Gunshot*
By the time you hear the next pop
The funk shall be within you—*Gunshot*
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
King Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah
B!tch, where you when I was walkin’?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin’
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him

Funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk
We want the funk
We want the funk
Now if I give you the funk, you gon’ take it?
We want the funk
Now if I give you the funk, you gon’ take it?
We want the funk
Now if I give you the funk, you gon’ take it?
We want the funk
Do you want the funk?
We want the funk
Do you want the funk?
We want the funk
Now if I give you the funk, you gon’ take it?
We want the funk

I remember you was conflicted, misusing your influence