King Los – Everybody’s A Bitch Lyrics (feat. Hopsin & Royce 5-9)

[Verse 1: Hopsin]
Yo, don’t even ask me
Your ho in the backseat, I dove in it fastly
Oh she was nasty, inappropriate ass cheeks
I was hopin’ to actually
Fill her jaw with all my testicle ooze
Film it all and maybe text it to you
I’m feelin’ awesome, you should step in my shoes
I’m ill in Boston with the rest of my crew
You flexin’ on who? (who?) Try to start a problem with a nigga
Then you gon’ get stuck (gon’ be stuck)
Somebody gotta end up on bottom
Man, I’m tellin’ you, it won’t be us (won’t be us)
Overly confident when I’m pulling up
On women as I hold these nuts (oh he’s nuts)
I talk a little gibberish
Then get inside that pussy with the OG thrust
I wrote this dope, just hope it flows to pay off
Wrote this coast to coast provokin’ chaos
Folks suppose the closest clone is Adolf
Don’t get close ’cause bones get broke and ate off (Yikes!)
Rockin’ all black like Batman
Slap a nigga with a backhand
I’m swaggin’ on your motherf**kin’ rap clan
I see through you niggas like a CAT scan
I’ve been the truth since fou’teen
Been on and always let loose with mo’ steam
Lit like a nigga off juice and codeine
Breakin’ all laws, actin’ rude to police
Bitch, here’s a nut you can use for protein
Y’all niggas don’t be producin’ no heat
I ride the beat smooth and cruise it slowly
f**k jewels and Rollies, bitch niggas, all you below me

[Hook: King Los]
‘Cause everybody’s a bitch if you ask me, if you ask me
If you ask me, if you ask me
Everybody’s a bitch if you ask me
I f**k around and take everybody bitch if you ask me
But don’t ask me
Don’t ask me nigga, don’t ask me nigga
Don’t ask me nigga, don’t ask me nigga
‘Cause everybody’s a bitch if you ask me
I f**k around and take everybody bitch if you ask me
That’s real talk though, but don’t ask me nigga

[Verse 2: King Los]
King! I’m about to do my shit, Hop
I’m about to do my Hip Hop
Where I rap and where I got my studded flooded wristwatch
And f**k your bitch in Gucci flip flops
I get two groupies and I just watch
I make them bitches coochie lip lock
They think I’m awesome, Poppa’s groovy
But this ain’t a f**kin’ movie, get with the movin’ the move
If you’re goofy, I’ma make the f**kin’ scripts swap
I’m at the tip top of my game though, and my chain glow
Like I found the gold at the end of the rainbow
I heard your girl take five then take five then take five more
Like Jackie, Tito, Marlon, Michael and Jermaine though
And that’s your main ho?
I heard he did the robot in the whole twat
The whole damn time you was thinkin’ that whole thing lined
They had it lookin’ like the “Soul Train” line
Choose up, elevate, move up
Maneuver, juice up, you suck, manure, you suck
My newer use of dudes who exclude us
Including Judas, fool, we exude
Upper echelon, the upper at your mosque
f**k it, bet your broad done took off with your car
Sucker, bet you’d call the cops and cop a deuce
I cop a squad on niggas, cock a chopper too
Take the masses off a pile of Jabbawockeez
Keep the ratchets on me, keep you ratchets off me
Keep you actors back, peep the acrobat, niggas flip the script
People have your back or have your back in caskets
Bastards once you die, that’s it, once you lie
I’ll cut you off like you drop your black ass in acid
Won’t you fry?
Won’t you buy a skirt and heels and twerk for bills?
‘Cause everybody’s a bitch if you ask me
Haha, yup, and we the strongest boys
I done been considered the best for like the longest, boy
I got pissed off and hopped on the phone with Royce
“Yo Los, what up my nigga?”
“Mm, shit, uh, man, I need a favor from the god.”
“Nigga you the GOAT, nigga anything you need? What’s good?”
“Okay, then this won’t be hard
I need that two minute unlimited of you and Eminem
Bad Meets Evil Sequel, Eye for an Eye
Fetty Wap, Masika, Secret Technique
Street meets perfectionist, unique eclecticness (Royce!)
I need that why the f**k do Akademiks
Keep postin’ all the wackest rappin’ gimmicks?
I got a platinum plaque in Swag-Olympics back in the day”
I be bumpin’ Fab’ in Brooklyn, I be bumpin’ Fab in the Bay
Just cashed a six figure check, that’s called a fabulous day
Miraculous, practice this, after this
They gon’ hashtag them to pray
But half of ’em tactic’s my prey
Immaculate passion to pass, I’m surpassin’ the Jay’s
The Biggie and Pac’s, ’cause that’s what they would want
To give me the shot, then Nas’ gave us knowledge
Pun gave us puns, once they was done
They would want the one that was finna take it
Know you pussy niggas really finna hate it
This my inner sanctum, this ain’t entertainment
And this shit a movie and they finna tape it
Morpheus, Neo, agents in the Matrix
And it’s ancient and it’s painted on the wall of the pyramids
f**k all y’all!

[Hook: King Los]
‘Cause everybody’s a bitch if you ask me, if you ask me
If you ask me, if you ask me
Everybody’s a bitch if you ask me
I f**k around and take everybody bitch if you ask me
But don’t ask me
Don’t ask me nigga, don’t ask me nigga
Don’t ask me nigga, don’t ask me nigga
‘Cause everybody’s a bitch if you ask me
I f**k around and take everybody bitch if you ask me
Woo! But don’t ask me nigga

[Verse 3: Royce Da 5’9]
You chasin’ that glitz and that glamor, not I
I’m chasin’ that guap
I’m lookin’ like Joe Budden chasin’ ’em kids
With them cameras with rocks, racin’ that clock
Plus I dress spectacular, havin’ an adverse effect on wackness
Last verse leave headless rappers
Blast first, ask questions after, ‘cept I don’t ask no questions
I’m just like a terrorist
If I like her pics, my wife likes her dead
I only dick down bad-ass black bitches
But I’m quick to flip like Chris Brown
And aim straight for that white girl head (woah)
If she Spanish, I am papi
I probly hypnotized her like the eye of Hopsin
Y’all guys, y’all been robbed a bunch of times
But, not I, I am Ryan Lochte
I kick down doors, true 6 Mile boy
Part of a breed that never existed before
You the last of a dying copy
Here to shake the game with my vibration, uh
I used to dream
About just makin’ plain paper clean without traces
But now shit done changed
Now I just make paper plane, like Roc Nation
If you niggas start with me
I leave you stiff as khakis with the starch increased
Nigga the art is key
It’s important to me you don’t win against me
It’s more to me than just business and jeef
It’s more to me than just a Eminem beef
Even though these weirdos hard to please
I got Moses at my show pointin’, goin’, “He depart the sea!”
I don’t wear no condoms, what the f**k are condoms?
I don’t trust no rappers, I don’t f**k behind ’em
I go Kobe, Steph, LeBron and shoot my shot and
Hit it with no second sniffers
I only go for seconds at the bed and breakfast
f**kin’, holla nothin’, yellin’, “Nothin’ is promised!”
That’s ’cause I’m f**kin’ hot as the Bahamas (whoo)
That’s ’cause I’m hot as the Bahamas
I been makin’ money hand over fist fast
I send your baby mama home
With a condition called Land Rover whiplash
‘Cause I let it go hammy ’til she drain my vehicle
Battery gave me like three or four cavities
She wearin’ edible panties (achoo!)
I got a being broke allergy, being local
Mortality don’t resonate with a super human being
I used to shoot and spin
And keep shootin’, now I’m doin’ shoots for spin in GQ
Ooh, tire marks skid
Roof’s see through, fly alcoholic, rich dude recruised
Crack a dollar on my wrist with these jewels
She said she love me, told the bitch, “Bitch, me too!”
This is what happens when you hear three kings on a track
My style is one of one and I’m the comin’
Wasn’t shit before it
I sat in these sessions until I turn to rigor mortis
The architect of artful tact, I’m not a dime, I’m off event
What I’m writin’ down just Don DeMarco raps
I’m wearing blue Jays
And my ego flyin’ through your Cardinal’s hat
This freezin’ cartridge to heat your ass
Part your crack, lean your carcass then arch your back, uh
Tell these artists it’s hard to argue facts
Go see if the charts will market that
I got jabblin’ swag off to the races with bars
Fly, my only ultimatum is Mars
My bitch is the baddest, her ass is the fattest
She tatted with class, I take her for granted
I met her on Madison Ave
Just to give her balance, took her to the Radisson last
I just grab it and smash it then toss it
When bitches and niggas see me in person
They be just like when Calvin was walkin’ in that Mickey D’s commercial
Yeah, they see me workin’
They’re like, “Hey hey, Ryan, look like you’re goin’ to work!”
(Hey, get money!) But I ain’t on my way to McDonald’s
I’m sprayin’ them lamas: pop-pop-pop-pop!
But nothing’s f**kin’ funny, track back, jumpin’
All I think about is who gon’ pick up all this f**kin’ money
Like Blac Youngsta
Weight liftin’, whippin’ 8-50s
With a license plate that say: “All y’all niggas straight bitches.”

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