Freddie King Follow

[Intro: ~King Just~]
Pack it up, pack it in, word up*
To all my world WP, NYC

[Chorus: ~King Just~ (Fes Taylor) {*both}]
If you think you got wins over there {pack it up}
(L.G., if you ain't Dub-P) {pack it up}
King Just on the M.I.C. {pack it up, pack it up
Pack it up, pack it up, pack it up, pack it up}

[Fes Taylor:]
Yo I beat 'em up, whoever front, beat 'em up
Wanna battle, eat 'em up
I know chicks, who bump a little, skeet it up
Like to fuck, mics I clutch, no white owl, I hit a dutch
Don't ever try fighting us, that stuck up, might of been us
Running from the popo, no, Germans is loco
What you don't know, my Wolf Pack, about to blow
From the dirty south from the big city, S.I.N.Y.
I like broads with big titties, big thighs, wide hip size
Ya'll wanna know what's up with me?
No rapper can fuck with me, living comfortably
Ya'll slum to me, never hung with me
Whether done with me, ya'll W.P.
My Killah Hill vets, want respect, snatchin' ya rep
First place, we check ya hip, where the ratchet is kept
Yo my shit crystal clear like from DAT to cassette
I take half my money first, ya'll spend half of the rest
My name Profes, confess, yeah I bang like gang members
Bust guns, sold drugs, all in the same winter
Step in the club, get stalked by gangs when we enter
Chicks call me L.G., give me brains before I pimp her
I stay with the getcha, now look I got to you
A thug full of liquor, you 2Pac imposter
Who You Records, nigga, better check the roster
Two 4 Warriors, Two Six mobsters

[Repeat Chorus:]

[King Just:]
Red light, green light, 1, 2, 3
AKA Chokemon, ya'll ain't gotta smoke with me
Reppin' NYC, til I D.I.E.
When I touch the M.I.C., spread like H.I.V.
Try me in the dark alley in Cali
With a 'fuck the Grand Wizard' shirt, had it on Klan Rally
But Sally from the valley, but she said I seeded it
Nuff bitches in this party that I done skeeted in
Feeding in, my adrenaline, Wimbledon, champion
Forty nine, throw it back like Park Hill from Stapleton
Hits now I'm making 'em, D.R. lacin' 'em
Period, ain't nothing else I should say to 'em
52 stating 'em, Tunnel, Speed, Stadium
Mad is the script, before they closed the Palladium
I was them, got you fantasize about, that you wrote your rhymes about
But you couldn't turn the jam out, no doubt
All out is how we go, H20 is how we flow
Look at 'em now, you ain't got to ask if I'mma blow
Or po' like vest, never ever smoke stress
Maybe cuz I'm J-U-S, I got J-U Ice, cuz I'm just too nice
Any hands'll give you plenty, mami, from, all night
Keep that pussy tight, right, pa won't fight, right
I'mma shine, playa shine, why you blabbin' bout my life
Fuck the mic in The Source, we gon' fight, just for yours
Trouble make, like porns, Warriors love war
You gon' see me, on tour, everybody on the bus
It's K.J., not Spike Lee, but still a million of us

[Repeat Chorus: (3x)]