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lirik lagu avn & king k.o.n.g. - universal

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(music is universal. it doesn’t matter what language you speak
it doesn’t matter where you’re from
but it exudes a love we can all understand
we can all appreciate.)

(king k.o.n.g.)
(verse 1)

i can take you to the past
but i really don’t wanna
binya binya wasn’t cool
and neither was daria
the presents where it’s at
and i treat it as such
cause when i was 7
i didn’t know how to split a dutch
coulda lied to ya
told you that i blazed by 10
took shrooms at 11, 13 was heroin
you’d say
“no wonder why he’s dope as f-ck
did you hear all that stuff he took
before he dropped his nuts”
but the truth is i didn’t
did i lose respect to admit it
is it true to gain it back
i gotta play into your gimmick
sounds like the mimicked
thoughts of a cynic
contortin’ your grimace
before i was even finished
with the end of my sentence
cause as you grow older
the world grows colder
jus wishing that a shoulder
was to hold you up
but it seems nowadays
that thought is far away
so long as i have my mother
there’s no woman i’ll love
but even she be stressin’ me
this sh-t won’t get the best of me
my dad ain’t been around
and he won’t be for the rest of me
givin’ me the proper recipe
to pop at anyone i see
comin’ around
bummin me down
about sh-t they don’t know
so stare into my soul stealers
they’ll let you know what the deal is
and honestly you couldn’t even handle
what they’re revealing
it’ll have you reeling
behind this f-ckin appeal and
it’ll show you how quickly
that the good guy can become the villain

(avn)
(verse 2)

they call me backwards skateboarder
smokin’ crack herbs writin bars
in the back of cl-ss tryin’ to p-ss words
and answers to my b-tches and b-st-rds
teacher calling out my name
she’s on my last nerve
and i’m the last serf
in this petty kingdom
of handbags, homeowner wealth & upper income
smokin’ in the stairwells
jocks in the hallways
slangin’ in the bathrooms
baby blues all day
she want that foreplay
honey’s into solos
effeminate hipster males sayin yolo
i was on the outside
and i was always out of it
and we were always outside
my crew was always down to fit
spaz on his -ss
check a cracker like a counterfeit
matt’s with the gr-ss
with the gl-ss of the powdered sh-t
over the counter sh-t
chop and make a mound of it
dollar 50 dutches
got me rushin’ to the counter quick
i got a ounce of piff
put it in my locker bro
school zone drug offense
runnin’ like a soccer goal
to the back trails
people snortin’ fat rails
on five star notebooks
catatonic mad pale
and mad stale
preppy cats call me dirtbag
but i find it funny money
where you get your work at
where you get your c0ke sacks
dimes and them percs at
matty nice homeslice
tell me where the love’s at


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