lirik lagu royce da 5'9'' - royce is like
[intro: royce da 5’9″ & dj premier]
well, nothin left to do but rhyme circles around n-ggas
huh, preem? (huh?)
[verse 1: royce da 5’9″]
allow me to put it in perspective, check this
bullets in the tec sh-t, spinning and the bullet in your chest is
best sh-t, meddling, what else n-ggas peddling?
’cause you selling records around here is irrelevant (statik!)
allow me to tell you to bow whenever you around me
i’m proud ’cause god endowed me, intelligent
look up in the sky and crown me, the now-regal
she go down, her knees are now eagle
either my gun gon’ bang or i’ma come harder
i run water on y’all lames, i unthaw you
y’all wanna be the kings of rap, my son’s smarter
i’d rather run some game on one of run’s daughters
the mike vick or the kobe bryant with this one
i’m past the p-ss and homie, ryan, i just run
the last action hero that the public awaits
took it past rapping so perhaps i can govern your state
i’m akinyele, i act belly, so put it in your mouth
while i talk on the celly, pushing a black l-e-
i’m makaveli, my body’s in the back of a deli
holding a cordless, frozen, with the volts in swordfish
lying with a couple of corpses
biggie and gandhi, my city’s behind me, others enforce it
in the philippines, blacking out on mics, yeah
like i’m living in a dream, acting out a nightmare
whatever i’m saying’s real
shovel the bullsh-t y’all throw on the game
is how i level the playing field (woo!)
y’all got to feel me, momma had to make me
god got to k!ll me, y’all would have to basically
put me up on a cross, split my flows up
call on the bible and let ’em lift my soul up (yeah!)
oh my, true, amen and such
the liaison between the most high and you (yes!)
uncle paul, the bearer of bad news
the era of unified armor, beware of the suicide bomber
the way he shoots the cannon
he competing with the reaper, he will take you, then vanish
make you understand it
shots be popping off bilingual, papi, call me jesús in spanish
i keep calm, i keep my piece on
i’m like ice-t, i keep a bleach blonde
i’m like spike lee, i keep the floor seats so it’s sweet
y’all might not like me but no need for response
my recon’s ghostly, we prime
real estate of the minds ’cause we signed and re-signed
they say i’m at the end of my time like esham
my emergency brakes recalled like nissan
peace, y’all, i’m out, n-ggas; i’m ’bout figures
but before i leave, i hope you don’t doubt there’s a…
[verse 2]
deep karma that’s surrounding me
like i’m a drug dealer plugged into the weed farmer
rap nato, plus, blasting, that’s fatal
you do the math and you’ll have mashed your last ‘tato (shh!)
the big empire, go within fire
the boss is so high on top, it’s a kickstand by him
i am: ryan, the giant; spit, inspire
i k!ll the supplier; then, i’m peeling the hitman hirer
i flow like none, you blow like guns
you hoes is polite as the soul of a moabite nun
i’m like a glock beam, i’m usually unseen
’til i wanna be seen, that means one thing
so i know i be having fun being a showout
i keep my guns clean with sunscreen, i’m so hot
petrified, ain’t ya? shook to death, ain’t ya?
b-tch n-ggas know you; told you, i’m a stranger
i ain’t seen fear, don’t even know what it feel like (uh-huh!)
i’m out of vice city, the n-gga hood in real life (uh-huh!)
caddy–ss n-ggas’ll get it
i pay the cost to put you away while i’m golfing
look, now, i’m flossing
i drive the ball then yell, “war!”
i mean, yell, “fore!” right before i unveil the pale horse
c-ck on sight, orgy or the duel
we doing like hoes or fours, who will we ruin?
asking each other to answer answered questions
then forgets them, i’ll do ’em again, i guess
but you ain’t gotta be dumb to go it (uh-uh)
i’m too old to show it
i’m too blowed, but too young to blow it
any time it comes to showing, i runs the show
when it comes to flowing, i go and becomes the poet
you know i capitalize by blacking out on a rhythm
i visualize the action and actualize the vision (yeah, yeah)
i don’t have to rely on ambition to get my eye on them digits
i see how i see, then get right on my business
let me see, i’m finna choose between losing
and being the pinnacle between eaten and eating dinner food
to being interviewed, and squeeze into a closet
with a couple of tennis shoes, i call it being defeated
minuscule amounts of dough in a dual account
so your ho can go on with you on an ounce
sold, rounds of bottles around her mouth
that’s bound to swallow, counting all of them founding fathers
you choose: getting brains or sniffing for the coochie scent
50 gs in the chain’ll glisten with the gucci print
basically, how i move, new york’ll seem slow
you hood-rich? how i’m living? you’re pork-and-bean poor
[verse 3]
i can’t complain, n-gga, i pimp the game
you went to jail, n-gga, i went to change
wipe off the smirk, n-gga, we ain’t the same
you came to do dirt, i came to clean
you drown from hunger, i sank from fame
you shot through windows, i paints the pane
i can’t explain, n-gga, you ain’t been trained
the same way that i have, so you ain’t to blame
if you ain’t ashamed, you came to swing, n-gga
i came extreme, this is my claim to fame (yeah!)
you claim the fame; i cop the jewel
right ‘fore you cop the jewel after i change the chains (chains!)
you seem deranged, i got a thing for brains (brains!)
you flee from rain, n-gga, i reign supreme
you hang your keys up, i hang with preem
you claiming, “gs up,” i’m claiming king
i came to slang, n-gga, you came to fiend
when i’m playing arenas, you came to scream
you came to bling, n-gga, i came to shine (shine)
you came to sing, n-gga, i came to grind (one more time)
you came to bling, n-gga, i came to shine (shine)
you came to sing, n-gga, i came to grind
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