[Intro: Jester]
You're now listenin' to a lyricist with a transparent face
Who grew up on Earl Simmons, Alvin Joiner & Aaron Yates
46 days in flesh, 47 nights in blood, I marinates
In the same corner where I sat & ate
My mum an dad threw their addictions, I started saturate
My activities were paranormal, couldn't catch me on tape
Ruin your regiment regime
Unearth your nightmares, whilst I cement my dreams
I'm from a council estate, I can't f*ckin' make sense of my own scenes
Everybody says I got the jars & bottles organized
I gotta aborted mouth, foster ears with orphan eyes
I was miscarried into communion that's when the organs dies
[Verse 1: Jester]
First class ticket I got for my train of thought
You couldn't inflict on the pain I brought
Picture me not fittin' in the frame I bought
Lyrically I'm elsewhere on the map
In the middle of nowhere I'm at
Stuck in the moment over there in rap
Your heart for this is mediocre
I'll attack every flat line, medics at your door
Watch your whole f*ckin' appendix pour
Now we can change the circ*mstance
Jingling my balls in front of a audio audience, make the circus dance
Love is blind, watch my eye disappear
Fell on death with my missin' ear
Lookin' over there, when you should be listenin' hear
Where the f*ck did my valium grow
Back there's more than a gallon to throw
c*nts welcome to the Vaughan Arron show
I was Grimm to my brothers like Edgar Allen Poe
I'm buildin' on these writers blocks
Thinkin' outside the writers box
f*ck your top five, I'm ina league of my own that's when the invitin' stops
[Verse 2: Royce da 5'9]
I'm sending my killers to the store for Patron and Danish
My n*gga, my n*gga, I would go get it myself, but I'm famous
And I ain't never changing, I'm never done paying my dues
My mind frame is "I'm forever making my payments"
I walk by a so called tough guy, watch him tuck his chain in
No snatching though, watch what you put my f*cking name in
Kind of like an armless actor playing an action role
I'm out on the west copping like Axel Foley, ask the police
But at least I'm active though
I bought my b*tch an ass then wrote it off on my taxes
Listed it as an independent backing like Macklemore
Half of my clique is bast*rds
The other half of my clique don't know half of the kids they have
It's savage, that's average though
Like 30k a year spent on yeast
In order to walk in the streets
In my shoes, you're gon need Flintstone feet
And room for baggage, and room in your Nikes
So they can hypothetically tag your toe
Motherf*ckers can't rhyme no more about rhyme no more
Cause I'm so raw
Will I win? ain't an if, it's a when
Kind of like asking "what time is karma gon find Solar"
So tomorrow, in hindsight, if you an artist, death's near, the fans know
What you draw falls on deaf ears like Van Gogh
I chose rap glory over the stratosphere
No plaques or trophies, I already have them here
(Let's go, Preem)
I'm just trying to leave my mark but I've got the same backstory as a tatted tear
The kind of frame I prefer to see the world through
Don't ask me nothing about Budden
I suppose I propose to all my girls too
I'm in the Forbes in in a pearl suit
b*tches know the score like Sheryl Swoopes
You know they say that you dying if you ain't living good
I'm dumping a hit man's salary worth of quarters down the world's largest wishing well
Wishing a n*gga would
(Wishing a n*gga would)
[Interlude]
Ladies and gentlemen
I think my record speaks for itself
[Verse 3: Common]
A rival of survival, idle movement and chatter
We was stepping in the Chi before we knew the ladder
Climb up till your time's up, a daily reminder
My daily operation is to spark the population
Salutation to the nation of the Nubians and hooligans
That knew me when we was boxing n*ggas up in Julian
The bond that I have with the Quran and the math
Supreme talk, I'm walking a king's walk
Watch it vibrate, while I take the wings off
Straight out of Chitown where they get that lean off
Fiends cough for serum, hitters rally rally like it's Durham
You in Illinois, we don't know what can cure 'em
I'm sicker than most of them from the 'Go so the flow don't end
Come get it bae like you from Oakland
I'm in the building and this my grand opening
I'm postering them n*ggas that were supposed to been
Doper than more pus*y than fallopian
[Interlude]
These are the sounds of days that are passed
[Verse 4: Royce Da 5'9"]
Kick in the door waving the .44
K's in the floorboards, stays in the Waldorf
I will board a jet cheap, fly to where you're sure to get deep
To show your crew my immortal technique
I'll elaborate, sixteen pistols and extendos
Hidden inside three or four twelve hundred crates
If we at war, I'll exaggerate
Sweep up the streets till the clique clean
Shoot you while we watch the tables turn like a DWYCK scene
Street sweeper, knock his head clean off his body
Then keep sweeping long enough to clean off his body
Lean off the bottle then fly a n*gga queen off to Cabo
Then have her feeding me papayas and grapes, I'm an acquired taste
If you don't like me, acquire some taste
And all I talk about is murdering
All you do is test pros, I'll shoot you while you protest
Shout to all my brothers and my sisters out in Ferguson
The police want us shot
And you gon be the next to drop in front of that donut shop
[Interlude]
We record a new dimension of history
[Verse 5: Royce Da 5'9"]
I kicked my habits in Visvim sneakers
And developed into the new now
Win Animal Planet
I got me a plaque and a Grammy while i'm going zoo now
Me still being irrelevant
Then became the elephant in the room now
(Is he ever gonna fall off?) No
I walk by so-called tough guy
Watch him pass me nervous after I passed him
He gon' get with the street life or
He gon' turn the other cheek like a half done ass job
Sitting right in front of a plastic surgeon
Then I jump in the black Suburban
Snatch the curtain, wrapping your R&B act in it
After I squeeze 21 entries
And it ain't no need to ask for IDs
I'm certain that if you offend me then it shall get windy
And that's right before the Mac 10 is working, click
And it ain't no irony in the fact that I am giving you fire
And that fire comes after the earth, wind, whew
Preme in his prime, I'm in my prime
("You know it can never be imitated")
("Shout outs to Royce, Primo
It's Common Sense, Big Illinois")
[Verse 6: Black Thought]
Yo, the voice of the announcer signing off
Salvador, a connoisseur, a hot monologue
Rachmaninoff, livin' life not by the law
And I'm a product of that Rakim — God, Allah
Forensic files, leaving 'em disemboweled, '87 style
They chance slimmer than reverend Al or Kevin Liles
Some friends are vile, still be peddlin' vials
Off of eleven mile, they wishin' you would
You prolly better reconcile
The dark side of to who they rising in prominence
My crown's taller than Suleiman of The Ottoman's
Wiser than Solomon, mobilizing the following
They try and give me the Nobel prize for novelists
Peace to cats that rock MAC knowledge knowledges
Hood astrologists, illegal anesthesiologists, yo
El elefante, Bella Fonte
Keep a regimen ready to give 'em hell if PRhyme say
Yo, post-traumatic stress, I wear it as a family crest
I murder at its best, words that'll manifest causing cardiac arrest
Budapest to Marrakesh, my slang Bangladesh
My gang’s Clarence X, I'm life after death, the last Levine X
Lettin' every other rapper know they better wear a vest
I'm pulling in two hundred thousand for appearances
I wrote a song about it, here it is, yo
The creature feature search a preacher teacher torch
Capture, rupture, rapture, reach her, the preacher
He defeat ya, speak the ether, sneak then creep ya
Say no peace to meet ya, can't nobody get with me
Strong suits from Italy, chill, humility what I'm all about, ability, yo
I wish a n*gga would bring the hostility though
You know how them boys from Philly be
I'm like cyanide, creeping through the air ducts
And I got a foul mouth, tell 'em kids earmuffs
When I was at school, I was who to steer clear of
Smoking a reefer in the bathroom, sipping Smirnoff
When it came time for the pictures in the yearbook
I was up in Paris like an American werewolf
Years later, yo I'm an American hero verse evil like
Deerhoof, if I let the bear woof
They don't recognize me when I'm shopping up in Berdgdorf
They just know I'm flier than the motherf*cking airport
Therefore they say I'm a sartorial gear whore, yeah
[Verse 7: Royce Da 5'9"]
Uh, Ascots on the tailor suits
You artists throwing bands on the radio like they made you you
I'm looking for artists on stage to throw tomatoes to
The way I act you think I'm banned from radio, like Trae Tha Truth
I don't really care, n*gga, I'm getting yen
I’ve got a C-63, V-Twizzy Benz I’m sitting in
I'on, I'on, I'on give a f*ck, any DJ anywhere
I'on, I'on give 'em as a triple dare, I'll tie him to a swivel chair
I'on give 'em spins, ha ha, I'on give 'em grins and count dividends
Ask around by them D-Town n*ggas that'll leave you with a concert
Full of dead fans and bloody merch
Smoking dope that Celie... That’s the color purp
You might wanna study first
Every verse lyrical but nutty first
Every verb and every word is like a speeding bullet
'Bout to chop your body in half while it's on the way to heaven
Like Kid Cudi shirt, sh*t could be a hit but it's gotta be money first
I rap with a sickness card, Iraq pistol pulling private, shh
[Interlude: Royce Da 5'9"]
Chris, I think I got the Gully curse
[Verse 8: Royce Da 5'9"]
Underground, underrated, y'all keep digging for answers, like the route to cancer
I keep turning Preemo beats into chemo treatments, I keep wiggin' like a oop to Andrew
I'm clumsy when I shoot, oops, I bet your crew'll scrambled
I don't write for limelight, I shine the rhyme light down then I'll produce a scandal
I'm what your baby moms would do for cameras
I'm leaving everything from the marriage to her little cooch in shambles
Your posse even get in my broad way your posse'll perish
Your posse'll become the posse up there
I'm outlining all of they bodies in chalk, setting fire to 'em
To the chocolate on top like chocolate eclairs
They outfit and jacket is bail staff
While we in the air, it's Yahtzee on Lears
And when we land, we on yatchs saying grazie to the mail staff
Muah, kiss my ass, y'all can go to hell fast
I'm just ready for whatever hell brings (Focus, man)
Getting closer to that real money like Gayle King (That's Oprah's friend)
I think of nightmares that'll ruining your dreams
And I just went shopping in China, yeah I flew with the team
f*ck a translator, I speak fluent, cha-ching
Y'all holding sh*t down with that selfie stick
I'm fly in some sh*t out of Harvey Nichols and Selfridges
Even when me and Shady was Abel and Caine
We worked our magic separately like Angel and Blaine
Came into this game with a navy like Baby and Wayne
Now every pair of glasses I have has a crazy insane Jazze Pha gradient frame
The least most amazing vehicle I have is a lease, though
It's a beast 4-80 and change
Y'all tryna pick up Bieber and Drake fans
Not me, but I'm in the streets though, like a Canadian crane
To elaborate is to annihilate, please don't make me explain
Come get your b*tch! Before I make her smile, ha
'Fore I perform a bunch of acts on her like Saturday Night Live then take a bow
Like Kenan Thompson, I don't believe in nonsense
I don't got no felonies in my record, I just got a fleeing conscience
I'm just out here spending money like I'm being sponsored
I'm just on my Philly crime sh*t, my ice cold Jack Frost mind
My black thoughts are my only real accomplice...