Conqueror
• Written by TylerHustle • Featuring MistaKZ
TylerHustle's Notes
Verse 1 starts at 0:04
Verse 2 starts at 0:56
Verse 3 starts at 1:48
Verse 4 starts at 2:40
Lost in Yonkers is just some play my acting teacher showed me once. To make it official that I wrote it.
"Mom's youngest, born after the April Fools.":
Double entendre: My birthday is the day after April Fool's Day, April 2nd.
Consider siblings tricksters. Therefore April Fools.
[Verse 1: History]
I'm feeling you never heard my History lesson
I was blessed with bars since the age of eleven
I swear I'm just like Eddie; I be getting Lost in Yonkers
When I get on the beat; niggas catch me lost and bonkers
I bust these bars on the highest ill-magnitude
Fake rappers don't talk street, they talk fucking avenue
These fat ass rappers rapping, breathing heavily
Rick Ross rapping, gasping endlessly. He rapping breathlessly
And look how I conquered from the Harlem streets
I'm a real O. G.; you can just hear a nigga speak
I spit from ASAP to these Westwood beats
(Yeah. Bow down to the conqueror, niggas.)
These lyrics cold; these lyrics elites
These lyrics gold; richer than that Golden Fleece
But we careful with money; we counting receipts
Heard how Mike Brown went down, so fuck the police
So I say fuck the police, then fuck the rules
Mom's youngest, born after the April Fools
(Bow down, nigggas)
[Verse 2: Mista KZ]
I said pass me the mic to this lil yung fellow
My raps smooth like jello, ain't fast but melo
Probaly never heard of me that's cause I'm yellow
Yea mista kz u kno fresh out the bean
Iced out, gold chain, so fresh like listerine
I got sidechicks in like groups of twos
You kno I ain't a crip cuz my balls never blue,
You tried to battle me but ya admissions overdue
Did yall hear the news, did yall hear my rules?
I battle rappers make them look like fools
I break u then have to fix U up with my set of tools
Rappers try to battle me, i school em on a student visa
Your clothes too fake got 4 stripes on those Adidas
And that whip of yours the jaguar lookin like a cheetah
Chino from the block I be eatin on my plate
When u in chinatown u need help to translate
But I don't like ur tone, so sorry I ain't Rosetta Stone
[Verse 3: History]
Y'all ain't got nothing on me and less on Kitto
Nothing on Nemo, scaredy killers incognito
Y'all must know that Steverson died too young
Lemme complain with this east side smooth tongue
Wage for the black population at the bare minimum
Put in some balance; make it equilibrium
I don't need a thesaurus to bust out a synonym
I'm the best in the world, then space-time continuum
I'm a KIPP kid, so I learned work hard and be nice
Lyrics making it smokey in here, no dry ice
Have to kill it, if you make it, you travel in private jet flights
So I got on this track like Superman without the fucking tights
And I been laid back with my nigga, Mista KZ
We the type of niggas that you can't fuck with, sanely
Got an ego huge enough to say I've conquered lately
Go spit imaginary fire, that shit don't faze me
Shoe size twelve, accomplished big ass feats
And look how I conquered from the Harlem streets
[Verse 4: Kitto De Renegado]
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About the Artist
TylerHustle
Member since October 17 2014