The MAGA Continues - KXNG Crooked

His name: «Red Hood»

His movement: «The Red Empire»

In the good ol' days this doesn’t happen

Because they used to treat them very, very rough

I’d like to punch him in the face, I tell ya

The MAGA continues

Word on the street is the Puppet Master got killed

I ain’t hear shit, I don’t know shit, I ain’t see shit

Word on the street niggas snitched when they got real

That’s some weird shit, that’s some ho shit, that ain’t G shit

The block’s hot again, got the RoboCops on our ass

What else they gonna do to us?

Already come into the community killin' anybody

who lower class

They ain’t nothin' new to us

If ya thought Eric Garner was the first then you don’t know the half

The bullets just shoot through us

See they catch us on the Ave. for your phone take a photograph

They gon' go (doot doot) to us

Cop end a nigga life go home and have dinner with his wife

I wonder how a monster like that can look his kids in the eyes

Catch him slippin' we gon' hit him with the pipe

Pistol kissin' him goodnight (Mwah!)

Used to kill us in the dark, now they just kill us in the light

Guess they figured if they pull the trigger on niggas that Martin Luther King

fought for, what’s a civil right?

(Right, right, right, right, right)

Then they wanna know why we act ill with the black steel

Get ya cap peeled, get ya hat filled with the lead to the head like a advil,

how does that feel?

Killin' at will like the Hatfields and McCoys with the toys

Shootin' like I’m Grant Hill

I’m accused of givin' ya fake news but Tamira Rice and Philando Castille,

that’s real

So I’m steppin' on your ant hill 'til the shit is at a standstill

Right after my toast I hit ya, I’ma post a picture

That’s how I hit the net with your flicks and chill

(Nah chill Crook)

Sucka don’t like what I said, off with his head

Watch how the population of real niggas decrease when I’m dead

I can’t talk about unity

I can’t talk about unity

I can only talk about where I’m from, niggas point a hundred guns at you and me

Higher ups want me to be the ghetto’s eulogy, musically, truthfully

I can get a million dollar market and budget if I say «fuck it» and poison the

community

But I rather drop that real

But I rather drop that real

Built in federal crime bill

Got us in an incredible bind still, my OG’s locked up still

Pop that pill, rather pop that steel

'Cause he been in there for years got eight more of those

Triple OG, got great cornrows

How long you been a ward of the state?

Lord knows

Been boxed up since the 90s, get out

Welcome to the future, they still wanna shoot ya

They still execute ya, they still wanna noose ya

They still want abuse ya with no retribution

They talk of inclusion, it’s all an illusion

The baller confusion, the news they be using the propaganda views to install in

the youth, then they alter the truth so they fall in the movement

I fall in the booth and drop an exclusive

All my interviews, they be calling my music a problem

I use it to solvin' but you get

Brought up in a mood and proper attitude to miss all of the evolution

But what is hip-hop turnin' in to?

How to see confederate flags all in the venue?

The saga continues, the MAGA continues