King Of The Hill Lyrics

That's Lil Jah

King Of The Hill

That Lil Jah. Rel So whatup?

Ju Pope what up? That Lil Jah

Red Dirt, he the King Of The Hill

That Lil Jah. Red Dirt, he the King Of The Hill

Only Red Dirt can make a beat like this

Only Red Dirt, FG Baby

Only Red Dirt. What up, baby?

FAP Baby, aye, aye, FAP Baby, aye

FGE Baby, aye, true true

Bitch I'm the shit' can't you see these niggas envy me

Niggas talk shit but ain't shit these niggas NPCs

Oh Double Five the gang they blood if not boy you'se an enemy

I keep my circle small don't let a nigga act friendly to me

I rap about loyalty money and snakes in the grass you don't know what it mean to me

Lil bro man I love him to death so of course ima talk about how much he mean to me

Lil Bitch ask me cryin' like Red why can't we be friends like why you so mean to me

Told her you ain't gettin' no money and I know you sick girl but you don't look green to me

Lil dread-head, he only nine years old

In the stu makin' beats, he coolin

I'm proud of the kid, that's my little bro

He gon' do what he see me doin

Red Dirt riding 'round in that bright red bimmer

Throw five nine up, we boolin

220 on the dash, we zoomin

Pedal to the medal, speed never reducing

Niggas be bitchin, that shit be amusing

Looking for approval instead of improving

Red ain't got nothing to prove

He be in the stu fine-tuning, producing

DG in a drop-top with a cuban

Backdoor open go through it we booming

Nigga you ain't never see FG losing

You ain't gettin' money boy get with the movement

Aye, coming back stronger than ever

Coming back bolder than ever, coming back colder than ever

My heart colder than ever, chip been on my shoulder forever

Came from the muddy like Trevor, toting that nine that Beretta

Young black kid with a whole lotta green like a burger with lettuce

Brakeup Boyz, by the end of the time I bet you won't forget us

I remember tryna throw a party on the block, but the cops wouldn't let us

Niggas think that they makin' us jealous ain't shit finna upset us

Niggas think that they makin' us jealous boy we on a vacay Flew down to Venice

Hop out of the V on the opposite side of the street, steppin' down in Margiela aye, aye aye

Only Red Dirt can make a beat like this

Only Red Dirt can make a beat like this, Only Red Dirt can make a beat like this

Aye, Ferris Ave Posse

Fuckin' Bank Rick nigga