Cashus King - Could It Be (Ft. Blu, Denmark Vessey & Sene) Lyrics

Exercise your body, exorcise your mind
Could it be?
That nigga Co$$, and Royal B, plus my mufucka Sene
One two, one two, one two
[Verse 1: Co$$]
Is all my dreaming in vain, is all of my plans of a crazy man
Like all my scheming insane
My people dying in Chiraq, my people dying in Gat-troit
If you let the joy enlighten you, inspire you made a hi-hat
Influence you and get it in the streets and you was with it
You got caught, but you acquitted, then acquire liquid fire
Wouldn't burn it you would spit it, they call you Cashus
When it come to the battle they call you last up
Most these dogs is frogs, and most these cats ducks they raps suck
They dicks suck, they bitch sucks, they cliques suck, they fist up
Get knocked out, I ain't top 5 in your top 10 then your list suck
Get picked up on the (?) with my fist ball like the brawler got
Like God giver, like God giver, damn if you ball or not
Dope money in a ball of knot, and his pockets get them broads on jock
(Call him out), in the sky, fallen clouds
Streets cold, but bars is hot, not bars where they be drinking at
But bars that come from thinking caps
I'm more FDR, then Abe Lincoln rap
Who liberated the slaves
Whether he on the dime block or that nigga living in J's
Whether he got a mansion, or his residence in a cave
Nucca don't misbehave
Cause Rosa Parks ain't march so your ass could be enraged
Cause Marcus Garvey ain't march so your ass could be in a cage
And Malcolm X ain't preach just so your ass could fuck 'em freaks
Get a clue nigga, fuck what talking, what you do nigga
Cause who you finna be is up to you nigga
Who's the illest?
[Hook: Co$$]
Depends on your perspective
(Could it be, could it be), Co$$ smoking green weed and Hennessy
Drinking with my thinking cap, tilted to the side
I'ma live forever, when I die, they'll bury me alive
(Could it be, could it be), that green weed and Hennessy
Turn the sky red and put that blood shot in my eye
I'ma survive, and live it 'til the limit 'til I die
I represent this realness, I give a fuck about who the illest (Could it be, could it be)
[Verse 2: Blu]
I don donned over the sky
And all the blinds put they palm palms up in July
Yo could it could that L-U, Jubilee on my side
Spell truth like he spell is name, say he a lie
Let him lay in the lot, with the lost and jealous
With the last Angel yelling at the (?) on the prosperity
Where no one here to share with, apparently
No we pairing it uh, the USA blow out that Mary Jane
Hear me out, before I air 'em out
Each and everyday my ink surround some sound like an island
We getting paid, West Coast to no West Coast
Pacific Ocean floor, how long can you stare at the sun
Before you overdose
Rolling spokes, yo we rolling smokes, tell the poles
We still posted tho, Cops, get of the cock, let the drops drop and boast blow
We got the game locked, tell the game it ain't a thing bro, let it bang
We on the same side, rain shine help flow, elbow grease
Chub T's be my jell toes, all the hail the king
Crown Rock, Royal Blu, Cash King, my nigga Sene, sound-off
On your boy band groups, that ain't a thing
Split a pair, I'm your worst nightmare squared
They'res two more niggas, if you ain't mathematically aware
You could jump threat, flinch, dare, swear double dare
And I still slap the shit out your ass tryna' compare
Who's the illest?
[Verse 3: Sene]
Yeah small talks for the birds from birds flying
Grilling cheese with the Mayans, so hood we feel inspired
So good, you watch The Wire, the wire be watching us
You tired, you like the guy with the iron who couldn't bust
When he desired, fuck what you inspired to, you high
Built this shit on air fans, while I was flying through crying
It's nice, sipping' Dewar's on ice, like hell fire
(?) when I can sip it, and God, shits delicious
When it's purchased by a verse I was cursed with inner vision
That my pops had, boy it makes my Pop's glad I did it
I'm that mother fucking story that you heard when you was born
About a boy who wrote a poem, tells you about a world that he crawled in
I'm all, chips stack, bitch homies get bitch slapped
If you call me you better get back up, or get backed up and catch whiplash
I'm Brooklyn, fuck you talking about king boy, it's king Sene
It's king B, it's king Troy, we been boys, y'all Blaxby
My backstreet, I may sing a song about love
But don't think I ain't where I'm from, or I ain't got some black gloves
Or I ain't ready to do shit, cuz I ain't rolling with Bloods
Or I ain't rolling with Crips, that I ain't rolling with thugs
Who's the illest?
[Verse 4: Denmark Vessey]
You know who it be, and if you don't then here's a thank you
First they make you, then they hang you
Then you die, and they cremate you
Then they love you, then they praise you
Did the same thing to Jesus, did they same thing you Horus
Did the same thing to Pac (2Pac), everybody's got a cross up
I feel great, like I'm liked and am I from they family tree?
If you can't see the forest, but sycomorus ficus
Then you sleeping on some soul food, some rigamortis-itis
Post swag, (?)
I'm still in my loaders (?)
(?) on the days with the counselor king
(?) swallow the drink
We toast the crown, we still here
When in my long sun in my skin tone
Flush blood, bone soul, gemstone, Jim Crow
Not only do I 10-4, over-stand, 10-4
I looked the Devil straight in his eye, to the window of the soul
Bullet hole in his temple, I lost my mind, tryna' find
God knows, what I've been through, hard time
It's the adaptation of life, taking a knife
Cutting through the tension, thick in the air, breaking the ice
I'm talking to you, finding my place, lost in the group
Remind me how I gotten here
Watching the grandfather clock mocking the rocking chair, back and forth
(?) then I smack the palm
Peace what up old friend, cold wind, below ten
Small world in counters in the corners where the globe bends
God's idle hands playing Jenga with Stonehenge
Centuries old hemps, written in bold print
Who the illest?