Contra (Remix) lyrics

by

Royce da 5'9"


[Verse 1: Danny Brown]
From the hood where them n*ggas pack fullys
Turn an ounce of reg to a cutty
Count money with a 10 deep flannel on
SB's looking like they been painted on
Jeans fitting like they was made for me
Your pants looking like, they was hand-me-downs from your Daddy
Get at me, my fit worth a stacky
I'm in a Caddy getting head in the back seat
Rubbing on her yakki
Then it start raining, when I start c*mming
So now I'm brainstorming, on how I'm gon' run it
And y'all like fags – pus*y? You don't want it
Gosh darn it, got heat like furnace
And I raise it like thermostat
Rolling that Thundercat kush look like Panthro
Heard you grab your ankles, take it in your manhole
That's so disgusting, I think I just threw up in my mouth
Can somebody pass me a towel?
A wetnap or something? n*gga is you fronting?
I beat you in your face, now your head like a pumpkin
Jack-o-Lantern, I'm Danny Tanner
Watching that white girl, you a dry jheri curl
You worthless piece of sh*t
Your baby mama begged me to suck my di*k
And I ain't gon' let her, she look like Predator
You a gay boy like David Archuleta
Contra, where n*ggas pierce armor
It's two n*ggas, two guns, blowing out your conscience
You see them chrome 44's, in this b*tch with thirty men
Y'all n*ggas know the code like..
[Hook]
Up-Up, Down-Down
Left-Right, Left-Right
B-A, B-A, Select-Start

[Verse 2: Elzhi]
When I write y'all, I blackout like nightfall
I'm never sh*tted on like that flight stall, that's quite small
You wouldn't like me when I get gutter, it's the legit cutter
And you ain't sharp enough to split butter
I stack riches, throwing n*ggas in black ditches
You wack which is why you mixed up like when the track switches
Hand on my nuts like my sac itches
Looking like The Mack, hitting 'lac switches
Hiding guns in my Abercrombie
With a dime piece, getting more brain than a zombie
Times 3, Ladies Love Cool J
I need a b*tch with more class than a school day
I heard a fool say I wasn't in his top 3
Stepped off with a broke arm and a popped knee
See me and Brown is no regular team
We make the whole planet flip like Omega Supreme
Yeah, make 'em hype, yo I murder with this tight flow
You a typo, plus you suck like lypo
I keep bodies hid, f*ck a John Gotti bid
Talk money, then we can chop it up like the Karate Kid
But don't think I won't clap and merk 'em
Infrared, beam 'em up, I will Captain Kirk 'em
And turn 'em to a brainless dodo
And break 'em both, legs one and two, like when Kane was solo
I'm snatching up his chains and Polo, the flow's fitted
To pose with it in the strangest photo
I'm bumping blue genie, if your stacks is too teeny
First you see me, and then you don't like I'm Houdini, n*gga
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