Cut Throat lyrics

by

Pusha T


[Post-Chorus: Royce Da 5’9”]
All my n*ggas with me cutthroat
All we do is roll around the city like we own it
We don't go to f*cking clubs, though, uh
All we do is post up in the front when the club let out
It's like, "What up?" though, uh
Only n*gga in my city rolling 'round in a Ferrari on you n*ggas
Like, "What up?" though, uh
All my n*ggas cutthroat, uh
All my n*ggas cutthroat, uh

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5’9”]
Probably 'bout to take your b*tch [?]
Slap a rapper, clap him, too
Show up on your block or avenue
I stay ten toes down like Freddy Flintstone
Show you what that chopper yabba-dabba-do
Product of the flip phone, never catch me out here
Without a bottle that's been sipped on, uh
I just bought a house and a whip homes
Last year around this time I was in quick loans

[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9”]
I look so good, sound so good
'Cause I just got my check
I'm about to put on my whole hood
When I drop my project (Everybody getting)
Drinks on me today we eating good
'Cause I just got my check
[Post-Chorus: Royce Da 5’9”]
Then it's back to being cutthroat, uh
All we do is roll around the city
Like we own the motherf*cker
We don't go to clubs though, uh
All we do is post up in front when the club let it out
It's like, "What up, though?," uh
Only n*gga in the city
Riding 'round in Maseratis on you n*ggas
It's like, "What up, though?," uh
All my n*ggas cutthroat, all my n*ggas cutthroat

[Verse 2: Royce Da 5’9”]
Some be drinking some prefer to light the blunts low (Aye)
Only ball game that we interested in attending
Is the Spike the Punch Bowl (Yeah)
I got stripes you like to punch low (Yeah)
Hip hop is the same old CB4
n*ggas out here going for the gusto
All you n*ggas on the chats straight (Yeah)
Got writer's [?]
Lyrically you my light work (Whoo)
Like the motherf*cking day shift (Aye)
Check it out

[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9”]
Don't I look so good, sound so good
'Cause I just got my check (Hey)
When you see me I'll always look like I just got my check
(I'll probably need respect, though)
[Verse 3: Schoolboy Q]
I don't do walk-throughs, I'm rich
I don't buy chains, I buy cribs (Uh)
My rear been poked to pierce yours (Uh)
AR shells on airforce (Uh)
A 'Rari or Porsche they both horse (Uh)
Tripple digits on Freeway like it's the course (Uh)
Jumping out that big [?] in ball shorts (Uh)
Dripping gold like Lonzo the rook (Uh)
Just more horses to prove I'm booked (Uh)
The top-dog n*gga don't woof (Uh)
4 8 8 the top whooped (Uh)
Your b*tch might crash they all look (Uh)
[?] (What?)
[?] I'm still the boy (Uh)
The only gangbanger can hang with Royce
Come back to the crips I'm still the voice (Uh)
You claim you that n*gga but getting moist (Uh)
.45 smacked till its empty, the 9 hoists​ (Uh)
No [?] for my mama, she hated noise
Jims on my Apple go Android

[Interlude: Cedric The Entertainer + choir]
The weather is so beautiful outside
It's gonna warm up a little bit—only on Smooth FM
[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9”]
Don't I look so good, sound so good
'Cause I just got my check (Hey!)
I'm about to put on my whole hood
When I drop my project
Drinks on me, today we eatin' good
'Cause I just got my check

[Post-Chorus]
Then it's back to being cutthroat (Uh)
All we do is roll around the city
Like we own the motherf*cker
We don't go to clubs though (Uh)
All we do is post up in front when the club [?]
It's like, "What up?" though (Uh)
Only n*gga in the city
Riding 'round in Maseratis on you n*ggas
It's like, "What up?" though (Uh)
All my n*ggas cutthroat
All my n*ggas cutthroat

[Outro]
My blaze hit, "What up?" though (Uh)
Gotta thank momma for these gems
Gotta thank my father for these jewels
Not an alcoholic I refuse
I'll be fighting 'till it's the end
My son and daughter might need shoes
Skippidipy-pop-pop
The End
All the way 'till The End
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