PRhyme lyrics

by

Joell Ortiz


[Produced by DJ Premier]

[Intro: Royce Da 5'9", Samples]
Gather round, gather round;
Witness the memoirs of 5'9", being read as he sees it fit
Police sirens behind him while he's drivin'
Instantly causes butterflies in his stomach even though he's legit
"Now brothers and sisters—
They have not stopped"
"It's about to hit the fan—What is it?—
sh*t's getting deep in here, I mean like thick"

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"]
Just another day in my reformed life, my unreformed mic
I still write, like it's my son was born Knight
I'm tired of swinging on these n*ggas, man, these n*ggas can't even fight
I'm a casual sneaker head, I don't need them bleeding on my Nikes, uh
Marshall said that I'd be a problem if I get my sh*t right
That "if" is probably the biggest "if" I ever live by
Which is why I'm known as a underachiever, I just skip by
I needed to be inebriated to prevent me from getting shy
That's better than getting shot, that's a much more healthier ending
I'm running this race all by myself, my competition's in the "Selfie Olympics"
Coming back with a vengeance, in LV of vintage
Anybody got a problem with me winning this sh*t shall be offended
[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"]
PRhyme, PRhyme, I'm in my permanent prime
The crown is on, that's how you determine a don
PRhyme, PRhyme, I'm in my permanent prime
I ain't never falling off

[Verse 2: Royce Da 5'9"]
Then the car pulls up on the side of me
An attractive woman is in it eyeing me tryna get my attention
But I just play the victim like "What do you want from me?"
Then I pull off like ERR
My n*gga, my n*gga, my n*gga, you don't know what it feels like
To be tired of f*cking these hoes, it's just hard to stay alive these days
I can't end up on no more collages on b*tches' IG pages
They see these cars then they want to be reality TV stars
Just another day in my reformed life, my unreformed mic
I still write like it's my son was born Knight
I'm tired of cheating on my wife, man, these b*tches just ain't right
Can't even kiss them in their mouths, too many di*ks been in their diet
Me and Chris we veterans, but when youngins call you vet
You start to feel like Hardaway with that UTEP, two step
They come in the league like A.I with that they new look and that crossover
Move, and they make that old sh*t seem useless
But I'm balling, I can afford to hire somebody
To try to break all of their legs like Tonya Harding
Seem like they fans be like "f*ck honesty"
My favorite rapper was signed to Duck Down; theirs signed to the Duck Dynasty
[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"]
PRhyme, PRhyme, I'm in my permanent prime
The crown is on, that's how you determine a don
PRhyme, PRhyme, I'm in my permanent prime
I ain't never falling off

[Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"]
Make your money, my n*gga, a'ight
(Get your money) But don't let the sh*t make you, now deal with that
I lost a whole bunch of money chasing b*tches
But I never lost no b*tches chasing money, how real is that? (Real talk)
Only time a woman made a man a millionaire
Was when that man was a former billionaire, how trill is that?
My n*gga, get you a fly chick and a drop top
And when she p*ss you off, do me a favor, hop in that b*tch and peel it back (Vroom)
I already got one, all these b*tches be doing
Is playing musical chairs with different rappers' front seats without calling shotgun
Face it, you a ho, as God as my witness, that paper's my litmus
I take it, then I dip with it then I wait for the result, and the verdict is in
Now that I'm sober n*ggas is saying it's over
Couple of n*ggas had to off 'em, couple of b*tches mad 'cause I'm off 'em
Either that, or they think that my life is so good, my nights be sunny
"Oh, he only been so quiet 'cause he been spending that 'Lighters' money"
Man, these people spend too much time predictin'
What's on your mind up until the time you non-existent
In the midst of all my success and my failures I'm just out here struggling
Guess that's what happens in rapping when you in your motherf*cking
Prime
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