[Intro]
I got a bone to pick
I don't want you monkey-mouth motherfuckers
Sittin' in my throne again
Ayy, ayy, n***a, what's happenin'?
K-Dot back in the hood, n***a
I'm mad (He mad), but I ain't stressin'
True friends, one question

[Chorus]
Bitch, where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin'
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah
Bitch, where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin'
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
When you got the yams—(What's the yams?)

[Verse 1]
The yam is the powеr that be
You can smell it when I'm walkin' down thе street
(Oh yes, we can, oh yes, we can)
I can dig rappin', but a rapper with a ghostwriter?
What the fuck happened? (Oh no)
I swore I wouldn't tell, but most of y'all sharing bars
Like you got the bottom bunk in a two-man cell (A two-man cell)
Something's in the water (Something's in the water)
And if I gotta brown-nose for some gold
Then I'd rather be a bum than a motherfuckin' baller (Oh yeah)
[Chorus]
Bitch, where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin'
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
King Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah
Bitch, where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin'
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
When you got the yams—(What's the yams?)

[Verse 2]
The yam brought it out of Richard Pryor
Manipulated Bill Clinton with desires
Twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five days times two
I was contemplatin' gettin' off stage
Just to go back to the hood, see my enemy, and say (Oh yeah)

[Chorus]
Bitch, where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin'
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah
Bitch, where you when I was walkin'?
Now I run the game, got the whole world talkin'
King Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him
[Verse 3]
You goat-mouth mammyfucker
I was gonna kill a couple rappers, but they did it to themselves
Everybody's suicidal, they ain't even need my help
This shit is elementary, I'll probably go to jail
If I shoot at your identity and bounce to the left
Stuck a flag in my city, everybody's screamin', "Compton"
I should probably run for mayor when I'm done, to be honest
And I put that on my mama and my baby boo too
Twenty million walkin' out the court buildin', woo-woo
Aw, yeah, fuck the judge
I made it past twenty-five, and there I was
A little nappy-headed n***a with the world behind him
Life ain't shit but a fat vagina
Screamin', "Annie, are you okay? Annie, are you okay?"
Limo tinted with the gold plates
Straight from the bottom, this the belly of the beast
From a peasant to a prince to a motherfuckin' king (Oh yeah)

[Chorus]
Bitch, where you when I was walkin'—*Gunshot*
By the time you hear the next pop
The funk shall be within you