lirik lagu roqy tyraid - rhyme and reason: coronation
[roqy tyraid]
roqy. ty. raid
time for me to run around phoenicians, put the town’s emcees into the ground beneath us/
non-believers, hope you found your seats, forego formalities, bestow the crown to me. some/
mad at me for jumpin’ out of the scene and tourin’ out in en-gl-and without a visa/
i’m distinguished, you can find me featured durin’ rhyme and reason every friday evenin’/
every time i handed ’em a tune, they spin it like capillary tubes/
through this simple action status is accrued/
generating capital from groves/
how come this ain’t happenin’ for you? /
you too complacent to me/
creatively vapid, your cadences weak/
i suggest takin’ a knee/
perpetually chasin’ my lead, that’s where yall fated to be/
pitiful, never should’ve been approved/
it’s considered rude, but i’ll -ssume while yall bitter dudes/
all your music’s identical/
it’s the muse for steph curry’s tennis shoes/
i’ve — been improved, every song’s a masterpiece/
your “bars” need john tafferty. get a stool/
then google what “nonfactor” means/
you want a shot outcl-ssin’ me? get in school/
rappers, yes, i demand respect/
our out that door you’ll get jazzy jeff’ed/
you see, your -ss can’t p-ss the test. this is rap, not m-ss effect/
psycho pat and fact are next/
better catch their sets/
they got them nba jams for your basket nets/
everything that’s wack’s exempt, so don’t act depressed/
i’m a god, this station should be tax-exempt/
stop the sentiments. i’m like rok with the penmanship/
twist your top like a renuzit/
i am far from a “resident”/
’bout to take it from the top, once mattlocks settles in/
with immaculate playlists, your samples are basic/
you’ll never make the cut like anthony davis/
guess who joined forces?/
roqy-apocalypse and the four hors-m-n/
it goes..
psycho pat, rok, mattlocks, fact, where you at? (x4)
rhyme and reason/
it is time to begin, keep your dial synched in/
they’re on they job, you best apply from linkedin/
get the pod, so if you miss a bar, you can rewind the sequence/
writer’s guild/
we come to your spot and your tires squeal/
the t-tle was never yours/
toe-to-toe, won’t survive, get a better goal. on your 7th drive and you never scored/
i’m snappin’ like pinterest/
more quotables than applyin’ for medical/
i’ll sn-tch all you n-gg-s up/
children of men and i’m chiwetel ejiofor/
most fear for seven years/
a walking weapon, i should tour in a metal gear/
(uh)
‘far as arizona spitters, i paved the way/
me and rhyme and reason saved the day/
guild
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