King Von & Polo G – Phil Jackson Lyrics

“Phil Jackson”, Polo G and King Von’s third official collaboration, was recorded in 2019, initially meant for Von’s Welcome To O’Block. However, after not making the cut, nor Von having a chance to fulfill his vision for the song with his assassination, it was considered to be on What It Means To Be King but for unknown reasons Polo’s verse didn’t get cleared, though it was finally repurposed for Grandson.

The song’s title pays homage to one of the NBA’s greatest coaches of all time, Phil Jackson, who’d go on after his on-court career to coach the Chicago Bulls and Los Angeles Lakers to win them a total of eleven championships.

Phil Jackson Lyrics by King Von & Polo G

[Intro: Polo G & King Von]
Uh, uh, uh, uh
Uh, uh, uh, uh
Uh, uh, uh, uh
Uh, uh (Von)

[Chorus: Polo G & King Von]
I keep callin’ plays like I’m Phil Jackson
We got Glocks and K’s ’cause the field crackin’ (Grrah, grrah)
Goofy better tuck his chain (What?), my lil’ vultures will snatch it (Huh? Huh?)
You could die a hundred ways, don’t blink ’cause it will happen (Boom, boom)
I ain’t in no rush to save (Nah), I drove real fast (Yeah, yeah)
My bitch bad like she will not behave (Huh?), she get real ratchet (Yeah, yeah)
Long nights in the dog pound (Damn), what if I was still trappin’? (What? Huh?)
Baby AR make ’em fall down (Grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah, grrah), hundred shots, he still clappin’

[Verse 1: King Von]
You know Von, I’m known to go in (Go)
Niggas hoes, they be wearin’ sew-ins (Yeah, yeah)
I got out, fucked five of her friends (Von)
Bet a bitch won’t cheat on me again
I get out my body, I got bodies, this a hobby, nigga (Yeah, yeah, huh?)
I get off that pill, I’m gon’ score and Shaq can’t stop me, nigga (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
Your main bitch, I probably hit her (Yeah), and your homie’s sister (Uh-huh)
Even though that’s folk’s cousin (Yeah), man, fuck your homie’s sister (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
Out here since a shorty, kept a 40, I wasn’t never worried (Nah, nah)
Teacher asked me what I want to do, I told her shoot (Huh? What? Huh?), she think I’m talkin’ ’bout some Steph Curry (Boom, boom, boom)
Man, niggas better hurry, hurry (Run)
We throwin’ Hail Marys (Grrah), you catch this, you gettin’ buried (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
Smokin’ on that Terry Berry, they left him Bloody Mary (Ooh)
These niggas play, act like they gay, I pull up with more clips than Tyler Perry (Grrah, grrah)

[Chorus: Polo G & King Von]
I keep callin’ plays like I’m Phil Jackson (Callin’ plays)
We got Glocks and K’s (Huh?) ’cause the field crackin’ (Go, huh?)
Goofy better tuck his chain, my lil’ vultures will snatch it (Von, Von)
You could die a hundred ways, don’t blink ’cause it will happen (Damn, damn, damn)
I ain’t in no rush to save (Yeah), I drove real fast (Huh?)
My bitch bad like she will not behave, she get real ratchet (I just keep goin’)
Long nights in the dog pound, what if I was still trappin’?
Baby AR make ’em fall down, hundred shots, he still clappin’

[Verse 2: Polo G & King Von]
He think he turnt up, he finally seen it, yeah, we been havin’ (Who?)
My squad don’t give no fuck, we tear shit up just like I’m Bin Laden (Go)
Runnin’ to them bucks (Huh?), my Gucci scuffed (Run), now I got rich habits (Run)
I done had enough, might let it bust if they don’t quit cappin’ (Damn, damn, damn)
Uh (Yeah), now reload
And I can’t see straight off the X ’cause I just keep rollin’ (I just keep rollin’)
Sippin’ Henny in my cup, I can’t keep focus (I be sippin’)
He cuffed that bitch, he fell in love, I make her deep throat it (Grrah, grrah)

[Chorus: Polo G & King Von]
I keep callin’ plays like I’m Phil Jackson (Callin’ plays)
We got Glocks and K’s (Huh?) ’cause the field crackin’ (Grrah, grrah)
Goofy better tuck his chain (What?), my lil’ vultures will snatch it (Huh? Huh?)
You could die a hundred ways, don’t blink ’cause it will happen (Boom, boom)
I ain’t in no rush to save (Von, huh?), I drove real fast (Nah, nah)
My bitch bad like she will not behave (What?), she get real ratchet (Yeah, grrah)
Long nights in the dog pound (Damn), what if I was still trappin’? (Huh? Huh?)
Baby AR make ’em fall down (Grrah), hundred shots, he still clappin’ (Grrah, grrah)