album name

JIM KONG ILL

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by Malkovich Music

JIM KONG ILL Cover Art
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1.
03:18
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2.
03:08
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3.
05:23
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credits
released 09 January 2012
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tags: hip hop hip hop/rap jazz lyrical rap rapper Los Angeles
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HIS FATHER HATES ISLANDS. HE ONCE FELL ASLEEP ON A TRAIN AND WOKE UP IN SPAIN. HIS BEST FRIEND IS A DIRTY COP IN BELIZE CITY ... more WHOSE NAME CAME UP DURING A GOOGLE SEARCH ON AMNESTY INTERNATIONAL'S MOST WANTED LIST. URB MAGAZINE GAVE HIS FIRST ALBUM SKELETONS ONE AND A HALF STARS OUT OF FIVE. A KID FROM NORTH HOLLYWOOD HAS LYRICS FROM THE SAME ALBUM TATTOOED ON HIS CHEST. less

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Track Name: Clouseau Cats
I run up in NATO like ayo
gotcha keeping all options on the table yall lame-os
Libyan caviar, hard bagel cats, park ranger cats
I'm doing April in Naples, Clark Gable hats
papal visits, paparazzi caught me, play it back
that's me and Pavarotti with the emiratis
I'm Jim Kong Ill, sake and Asahi, weighing stacks
not me, I got people I pay for that, I'm so brand nouveau
they say you so Euro cuz I got a bodyguard named Hugo and he's quick to flip your Peugeot
you know, Inspector Clouseau cats
head of a country yall named twenty minutes back
keep your ear to BBC for when that goes to crap
now watch em raise the Union Jack on ya, old chap
but the British are finished, we done speaking English
new world order rap.

Write my name in bold, pictureframe in gold
play the part of scoundrel, got the role down cold
Idi liked that Motown soul, that I outgrown
I'm at my own opera, box seat, binoculars, clap or get your whole town rolled
I got hackers with open sores, working on open source, steal your whole government off a download
when the war hits I'll be in Brazil with Jim Jones' four kids
or at my home in Wyoming with the doors rigged
creep and get caught and horsewhipped, or blown to horseshit
a novelist, and my work stand like an obelisk, like tutankhamen's crypt
Barack Obama got Iraq, Osama clipped, but there's one man the man don't want drama with

I got the bogle of a mogul
I ain't no Oval Office hopeful, yall can get a scopeful
I got Topolovs over the Poconos, dropping brochures and posters floating slow
my face everywhere, hair flared, Jim Kong Ill, the face on the million dollar bill
that ain't cake, I got billions in bullion
tell Bernanke and them Yankees brush up on your Boolean
yeah my boys is chefs, yall getting julienned
you got De La Hoya's lawyer, all toothy grin
I got DSK suits and they ain't have to sneak the toolys in
no need to conjure no double entendre
double rocket launchers gotcha hunkered in bunkers, bonkers
your little country I'll nuke it, leave it gooey as nougat
what's left's included under the rubric of that BLX crew shit
fuck you forget?
Track Name: Jim Kong Ill
Jim Kong got a hit song
my advisors wrote it, that’s noted, let's move on
move on your shitty city
with gats and gongs, the gongs freak ya, gats cut ya itty bitty
Chinese new year shit, sound warfare, I pioneered it no wonder I can’t hear shit
yall got near hits, you blow targets like you’re tarded
bombs hit like my ass parted and farted
I told Obama stay the fuck outta LA
don't take your ass past San Vicente okay
but while you're here drop by the offices under the auspices of the new cats that's running all this shit
small business? you can say that again
yall some small businessmen, about four foot ten
wanna act like a bitch? well that's all good then
call up a few friends to tie up some of my loose ends

the Syrians are serious
bilious clouds hanging over Damascus
blew the world up, God thanks for having us
the ten peoples that’s left it’s back to the abacus
my dong hang over Pyongyang
I shift right and give the Japanese something to discuss
it’s a long thang
my missile tickle clitorals, I fuck an interviewer across the table during the interview
take me literal, I’ll kill the whole eight bill of you
like I got shit to do
your brittle truce is little use
we record your torture, and use the shit for interludes
I’m watching from the Jacuzzi
bumping that new Neil Young, it’s slick but bluesy
bubbles in the tub? accuse me
then tell CNN, everything I do’s newsworthy

tell Ahmedinejad to get a job
I heard them mullahs got moola and they’re working you like a dog
everybody knows you and the mofos in charge have grown apart so kill the Bonaparte routine
maybe switch teams you can be our guy
you can be our Karzai
just take a class in Poly Sci and you’re overqualified
just give us all your oil and lets keep this dollar high
and what them fools selling nobody buy
and don’t worry bout them they know the time
and when you see Jintao, bow, lets not cause a row
we ran him off the Dow anyhow
that’s what the bare facts is
think it's time for some scare tactics
hit him with a care package
my man Myrtlebaum with the dirty bomb, catch bitch
Track Name: Dictator Of Love
A smile that beguiles
then disappeared quicker than a flicker, my heart skipped a beat
standing in the street like she owned it, wait a moment
this shit is named after me. slow the Rolls a bit
ten seconds to catch a girls' attention
"Bruno, you go." (that's my ladies' man)
"Miss? Your address at his Highness' request.
You got two choices and both of them are yes."
sunrise, a letter met her doorstep
give her three days yo, then send the horsehead
inside, an invite. flashy. card stock, 2 font
and me on the front, major bouffant
we can go wherever you want
oh, PS, we have your sister prisoner, and no visitors.
at the restaurant she was prompt, well-dressed
meticulous, hell yes, a woman of particulars
fresh off a cappuccino with Al Pacino
"Are you coming from somewhere else?"
well how did she know?
you got intuition.
but one thing, when I talk, you will listen, or you might end up missing.
Andre? bring the entree.
she was Janet with a hint of Sintra Bronte
I got an empire, a modern-day Pompeii
so do what I say and you can have it all day.

I'm the dictator of love, gaming you up

In a speedboat, breeze blowing Pino on my peacoat
I advertise paradise.
we can go to Malta, the strait of Gibraltar, maybe Mallorca, then straight to the altar
you'd think her behavior'd alter, not a scrap
thought I caught a smile, that was just Bruno's gun digging in her back
hit her with the present
she just cocked her head and said "oh, that's pleasant" and left it at that
barely a thank you, nary a "that's cool"
nearly flew off the handle and sent Bruno for the bamboo
that's when she hit me with the F-bomb
"Let's just be friends, Kong"... can't lie, turned me the hell on
how'd she get so headstrong?
stubbornness is what it is, so let me simplify this
I been sending memos out, you must not have got em
but not marrying me is uh, not an option
how's about I pull this thing over so you can catch an eyeful of my Eiffel
my armada's in your harbor
and any girl I ever really wanted, I got her, either that or put her out a father
she leaned forward and just said "You don't know how lucky you are to make it this far, sir
now get me off this lonesome ocean. I don't like you"
well why do you think I want ya...

What the hell I'm supposed to do? The usual?
waste her family, boobytrap their funerals?
I'll have a sad wife, no more beautiful
think for Jim's sake, a damn mistake, through and through
I could have Bruno take her in the back for a lashing
but I can't have her scarred when them cameras start flashing
for the disrespect, I should take her neck
but I love her, despite what she may suspect
I was so focused on the outcome
OK then, my approach might have freaked her out some.
I can see that, I concede that... thanks for the feedback
now it's Goldschlager, poached lobster
she puts her hand in her pocket to pay, don't bother, nope, uh-uh
fuck what it is or what it might be
you're wifey. and I don't say that lightly.