Slave King Los (Ft. Xplicit)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Slave" by King Los (Ft. Xplicit). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Hook - Eskeerdo]
You a slave, them bitches say
You a slave to the game, you a slave
And you love it
You a slave to the whips and chains
You a slave to the game, you a slave
And you love it
And you love it
And you love it
[Verse 1 – King Los]
I said my Rollie got me pussy whipped, yes it do, I admit
Every day I’m buying shit
Like every J the flyest shit
Helicopter over top my ex’s house, high as shit
Take a giant shit on the roof, ooh, I ain’t shit
Cause I’m from the hood and I got issues still
12 years old we cook that coke, baby face, whip a pill, grip the steel
Damn ain’t this a bitch, ain’t no motherfucking fathers
Put the message out, can’t protect this house with under armor, no
Everybody talking, anybody can get it
Ain’t nobody talking, have your body chalking
Anybody worried about it can get curried
Or everybody can carry your coffin until you’re buried
Niggas married to the streets, never scared
Never serve an undercover
Never bitch and never snitch on your fucking brother
Ill shit, that’s the recipe, but real shit it’ll set you free my nigga
You a slave, them bitches say
You a slave to the game, you a slave
And you love it
You a slave to the whips and chains
You a slave to the game, you a slave
And you love it
And you love it
And you love it
[Verse 1 – King Los]
I said my Rollie got me pussy whipped, yes it do, I admit
Every day I’m buying shit
Like every J the flyest shit
Helicopter over top my ex’s house, high as shit
Take a giant shit on the roof, ooh, I ain’t shit
Cause I’m from the hood and I got issues still
12 years old we cook that coke, baby face, whip a pill, grip the steel
Damn ain’t this a bitch, ain’t no motherfucking fathers
Put the message out, can’t protect this house with under armor, no
Everybody talking, anybody can get it
Ain’t nobody talking, have your body chalking
Anybody worried about it can get curried
Or everybody can carry your coffin until you’re buried
Niggas married to the streets, never scared
Never serve an undercover
Never bitch and never snitch on your fucking brother
Ill shit, that’s the recipe, but real shit it’ll set you free my nigga
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