Released: June 2, 2017
Featuring: AG Da Coroner Fred the Godson
Songwriter: AG Da Coroner Fred the Godson Kool G Rap
Producer: MoSS
[Verse 1: Kool G Rap]
Born of a hustler, I'm a bad motherfucker
Keep a pocket full of c-notes, some kilos stuffed in his muffler
Pimp daddy mack lean, tilt the suede hat mean
Cadillac and pad clean, that nickel-plated mac gleam
Flare bellbottoms, shells, he shot 'em
The hell if he not, he a problem like a cell up in Harlem
Should've been in an asylum the way he funeral parlour ‘em
Bottom bitch with the healthy bottom
My bell’s no cotton
Come from a slum off a strip made of legends
See her face with fresh enough mirror paint on that fresh Benz
King of my city, I run for mayor election here on
He step in the scene you to the fifth wing, what happened?
The don is session brunette and blond sex and I’m on rest
And my weapon I hit ‘em with arm injections
Firearm your direction, no arm wrestling peasants
Palming that bread, he got off on the own connections
No question
[Hook x2]
Pimp daddy with the mack lean
Luxurious suites, 80-inch flat screens
We made money, stick-ups and crack fiends
New York City, certified rap king
[Verse 2: Fred the Godson]
Nina 12 gauge
Imagine if I seen ya, twelfth grade
Schoolboy’s how I handle you
Your mack book was a computer, mine’s was a manual
I dared a bitch buy a whole book of Emmanuel
I cook with the mechanicals, you shook? That’s understandable
I took a gram or two and made a grand or two
Sold to your mother and your grandma too
Oh they a lover of my grandma too, but who better than Kool G Rap?
I’m in the booth with a Biggie sweater, this coogie rap
Uzi clap, you’ve been warned
Put the snug to it uniform, don’t make me clank the nose like a unicorn (get it?)
You’ve been on for a couple, don’t diss the forefathers
Your mom don’t know who your pops, you probably got four fathers
I’m from a different era
Violate if you should ever, Fred the Godson
[Hook x2]
Pimp daddy with the mack lean
Luxurious suites, 80-inch flat screens
We made money, stick-ups and crack fiends
New York City, certified rap king
[Verse 3: AG Da Coroner]
Mannequin nails, headline with Steve Harvey
History was Teflon, try to stick to degree bodies
No no no bloodline, pristine Gotti
Ill with the Rambo knife plus he busting the mean shotty
Weave spinning had emptying in his family
Intelligent hoodlum still familiar with tragedy
One problem away from losing his sanity
Telling whose situation get nasty, that’s word to vanity
Nightmares and dark fantasies, they toetagging me (try to kill me)
Playa had a death wish, she kept the best bitch
What’s snapping with fingers, he make her step quick
Respect me, homie, don’t play the phony
Them hot shells will turn you to macaroni
Shout out to Treach and Naughty, I do my dirt by my lonely
Ninja nigga shinobi
Creeping through the block then walk away like I’m Kobe
And play the mirror like Moany
[Hook]
Pimp daddy with the mack lean
Luxurious suites, 80-inch flat screens
We made money, stick-ups and crack fiends
New York City, certified rap king
Born of a hustler, I'm a bad motherfucker
Keep a pocket full of c-notes, some kilos stuffed in his muffler
Pimp daddy mack lean, tilt the suede hat mean
Cadillac and pad clean, that nickel-plated mac gleam
Flare bellbottoms, shells, he shot 'em
The hell if he not, he a problem like a cell up in Harlem
Should've been in an asylum the way he funeral parlour ‘em
Bottom bitch with the healthy bottom
My bell’s no cotton
Come from a slum off a strip made of legends
See her face with fresh enough mirror paint on that fresh Benz
King of my city, I run for mayor election here on
He step in the scene you to the fifth wing, what happened?
The don is session brunette and blond sex and I’m on rest
And my weapon I hit ‘em with arm injections
Firearm your direction, no arm wrestling peasants
Palming that bread, he got off on the own connections
No question
[Hook x2]
Pimp daddy with the mack lean
Luxurious suites, 80-inch flat screens
We made money, stick-ups and crack fiends
New York City, certified rap king
[Verse 2: Fred the Godson]
Nina 12 gauge
Imagine if I seen ya, twelfth grade
Schoolboy’s how I handle you
Your mack book was a computer, mine’s was a manual
I dared a bitch buy a whole book of Emmanuel
I cook with the mechanicals, you shook? That’s understandable
I took a gram or two and made a grand or two
Sold to your mother and your grandma too
Oh they a lover of my grandma too, but who better than Kool G Rap?
I’m in the booth with a Biggie sweater, this coogie rap
Uzi clap, you’ve been warned
Put the snug to it uniform, don’t make me clank the nose like a unicorn (get it?)
You’ve been on for a couple, don’t diss the forefathers
Your mom don’t know who your pops, you probably got four fathers
I’m from a different era
Violate if you should ever, Fred the Godson
[Hook x2]
Pimp daddy with the mack lean
Luxurious suites, 80-inch flat screens
We made money, stick-ups and crack fiends
New York City, certified rap king
[Verse 3: AG Da Coroner]
Mannequin nails, headline with Steve Harvey
History was Teflon, try to stick to degree bodies
No no no bloodline, pristine Gotti
Ill with the Rambo knife plus he busting the mean shotty
Weave spinning had emptying in his family
Intelligent hoodlum still familiar with tragedy
One problem away from losing his sanity
Telling whose situation get nasty, that’s word to vanity
Nightmares and dark fantasies, they toetagging me (try to kill me)
Playa had a death wish, she kept the best bitch
What’s snapping with fingers, he make her step quick
Respect me, homie, don’t play the phony
Them hot shells will turn you to macaroni
Shout out to Treach and Naughty, I do my dirt by my lonely
Ninja nigga shinobi
Creeping through the block then walk away like I’m Kobe
And play the mirror like Moany
[Hook]
Pimp daddy with the mack lean
Luxurious suites, 80-inch flat screens
We made money, stick-ups and crack fiends
New York City, certified rap king