Migos – Crown the Kings Lyrics

Migos – Crown the Kings Lyrics
Crown the Kings
Migos
    Lyrics copied!
    Crown the Kings Album Art
    "Crown the Kings." - Migos

    Album: Culture II
    Track No: 13
    Fuck it, let's crown the kings
    Ya dig?
    You know what I mean?
    Uh huh
    Fuck it, crown the king (Fuck it)
    Benz truck for the queen (Benz)
    G-I-A, my rings (G-I)
    G.I. Joe, my team (Ice)
    Fuck what you mean? (Fuck it)
    Fuck what you mean? (Fuck what you mean?)
    Talkin' too cheap (Talk too cheap)
    Like money ain't green (Like money ain't green)
    **** look like we'll, **** look like we'll shoot at 'em (Shoot)
    **** look like we'll sponsor the dope and you sell 'em (Dope)
    **** look like you'll snitch on a ****, yeah, you tellin' (You)
    **** might think we UPS the way we mail 'em
    **** might think you feds the way you snap them pictures
    Shorty look like she serve, the way she ride with **** (Hey, serve)
    Get what you gon' earn when you ride with pistols
    Trigger finger itchin', itchin', R.I.P. to Pistol (Pete)
    She hit that line, London Fletcher
    Fishbowl, wrist swimmin' on the fish, catch a Babe Ruth, the bat
    I batter the batch (I batter the batch)
    Two hoes attatched, call 'em siamese cats (Siamese twins)
    I do all stunts (Stunts)
    I kick like a football punt (Kick it)
    You wanna talk lows? (Low)
    I made three million this month (3M)
    You wanna talk keys? (Key)
    The white with the black wrap lookin' like nuns (White, black)
    Wanna talk fees?
    Once I got it, ain't comin' in none (No, no)
    Fuck it, crown the kings (Fuck it, crown the kings)
    We livin' the dream (Dream, yeah)
    Crown the kings (Crown the kings)
    We livin' the dream (Dream, yeah)
    **** look like we'll, **** look like we'll shoot at 'em (Shoot)
    **** look like we'll sponsor the dope and you sell 'em (Dope)
    **** look like you'll snitch on a ****, yeah, you tellin' (You)
    **** might think we UPS the way we mail 'em
    Drown the ice with medicine (Medicine)
    Drown your bitch with the skeleton (Drown)
    I'm on the stove cookin' elements (Elements)
    The sky is the limit, I'm heaven-sent (Sky)
    Drippin', I'm fly as a pelican (Drippin')
    Bought me a zoo, I got elephants (Zoo)
    They salty, these **** not relevant (Who?)
    They copy the bros and it's evident (Copy)
    Ridin' in the Wraith, row, row your boat (Boats)
    My soul devoted (Soldiers)
    Bank rolls are loaded (Bank roll)
    Cash out, no notice (Hey)
    Rolls Royce came with a chauffeur (Chauffeur)
    Stick in the couch, in the sofa (Sticks)
    Five carat in my ear, it's a boulder (Carats)
    Pass me the fine smoke (Fine)
    Me and my bitch are like Bee and Hova (Hova)
    Go do a show and in the 'Sota ('Sota)
    Stash the hunnids, they mowed up (Stash)
    Fuck on your bitch till she throw up (Smash)
    Stick to the code, don't fold up (Code)
    Boujee bitch, her nose up (Boujee)
    Smashin' the thot, do a toe-touch (Smashin' that)
    Hundred round drummers, cold cuts
    Fuck it, crown the kings (Fuck it, crown the kings)
    We livin' the dream (Dream, yeah)
    Crown the kings (Crown the kings)
    We livin' the dream (Dream, yeah)
    **** look like we'll, **** look like we'll shoot at 'em (Shoot)
    **** look like we'll sponsor the dope and you sell 'em (Dope)
    **** look like you'll snitch on a ****, yeah, you tellin' (You)
    **** might think we UPS the way we mail 'em
    I got every drug that start with a letter (Drug)
    Chickens, it's tender
    What the hood say, that you Soulja Boy the way you tell 'em (Tell 'em)
    Break in and enter
    Free all my **** locked up in the cell, no cellular (Brr)
    I'm special, but first, I was regular
    Fuck the feds and free my **** that's federal (Federal)
    Commas, cameras, and some decimals (Decimals)
    I'ma feed 'em to the animals (Rrr)
    I let 'em play in the back with them lions
    Until he run outta that stamina (Run)
    I told him he stealin', he told me I'm lyin'
    I told 'em I got him on camera (You lyin')
    Act like I wanna make music with ya
    Just to hit you and your manager (Brrt)
    Fuck it, crown the kings
    Crown the kings
    Fuck it, crown the kings

    Writer(s): Quavious Marshall, Kiari Cephus, Kirshnick Ball, Daryl McPherson, Bob Marley & Peter Tosh.

    All lyrical content displayed on this website is the intellectual property of its respective copyright holders. No ownership is implied, and no copyright infringement is intended.

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