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letra de royce da 5'9" freestyles on flex | freestyle #090 - royce da 5'9''

[verse 1]
i’m ridin’ with the k solo, i’m spellbound
used to ride with delilah and nicole in the fairmount
i’m who incite the riot, you the guy at the staredown
i worked at taco bell, now i just fire the sh-ll rounds
now somewhere in the air lies the truth like a thunderstorm
i terrorize the youth as if i’m gunnin’ for ’em
i could’ve jogged here, i marathon the booth and let it run its course
the r’s here i’m paralyzin’ you like the underscore
your riders couldn’t impress my chauffeurs
your favorite artist couldn’t benchpress my notebook
i transcend like wu-tang to all eras, cash rules
now i’m just dead nice, the pallbearer of bad news
shouts to all my n-ggas out there in the locks of crime
remember they can lock your body but can’t lock your mind
you lack triumph when you stop the grind
you rappers blac chyna, went and got your bread and went and got behind
gun professor, i’ll punch whoever
come here lookin’ like conor mcgregor
leave this b-tch lookin’ like uncle fester
question, are we bitter rivals?
’cause we can shoot the ks or the fade
’til both of our arms get vitiligo
i stay in my prime, y’all n-ggas just sippin’ on scotch
i stayed with my nine, y’all n-ggas just live with your pops
i sit in the original lyrical pivotal spot
even though i changed with the time like digital clocks
either goin’ straight for the k!ll
gun-slingin’ or i’m goin’ straight up jada and will, i come swingin’
i write for b.i.g. and 2pac
i’m rollin’ like the prices on the coupe dropped
i’m dolo like a sniper’s on the rooftop
i’m sicker though, i’m feelin’ like the flu shot
i sh-t on every artist on the charts and leave a diaper on the jukebox
my mind’s like the j-pan bullet train, it floats in cycles
rhyme full of pain, spoken right out the smokin’ rifle
they wanna see me tweetin’, “yo man, who need a feature?”
i’d rather squeeze until the colt jam like lisa lisa
i’m 5’9″ givin’ n-ggas them 6’9″ fears
we can battle like them grind time kids
how about this, how about i take your wifey on tour with me
and never give her back, same way my n-gga big sean did
i go hard ’til 2088, my father was crazy like hailie jade
still i was born a saint like baby ye
i prayed hard and only god i fear
you just plain playin’ god, lookin’ like james harden without his beard
these n-ggas hoes, man it’s sickening
they only goals is get some golds and b-tches and
get on the ‘gram wearin’ a roc nation hat
but anybody who’s anybody knows
the closest they ever came to seeing hov was….
but anybody who’s anybody knows
the closest they ever came to seeing hov was bein’ witnesses
so run along with your little microwave hits
all you n-ggas is my light work like the day shift

[verse 2]
yeah, right now i’m finally respected
until the day that i’m finally neglected
and i’m fallin’, i’m callin’ all kinds of pyrotechnical fires in the sky over heaven
during my final eclectic spiral i die, right on the steps
as if i don’t accept it
if it ain’t green, i don’t see it, i’m color-blind
with my eye on the exit, with my other eye on the double line
on the essence and any other kind of successes of the grind
dominoes with destiny i’ll forever be f-ckin’ fly
i’m fired with flows, top five and you know
i’m happy at platinum but i was happier
back when 500 thousand was sold
my proudest accomplishment now
was when i got quiet to get sober
and silence is gold
i let my whole story fly at no cost to the people
while i’m talkin’ to joe, no budden
i’m talkin’ joe walsh from the eagles
no stuntin’, we just wrote somethin’
my demise was s’posed to be weeks ago, keep your smoke comin’
i’m over here with 500 styles like a savant
you wanna see me washed, 500 pounds like i’m avant
hair dyed and all fried up like yung joc or jaheim
only way i’m goin’ out is gunshots or sirens
we make paper, you party, we play vegas
nothin’ but sirens surroundin’ me when we play wagers
i’m f-ckin’ the b-tch of my dreams and we they favorite
my bmwi green like deray davis
i be givin’ b-tches orders like they mothaf-ckin’ grandpa
trappin’ is for rappers, i be grindin’ like the dancehall
i don’t know astrology, i just know i’m a cancer male
eatin’ south of france, he who doubts the man can’t prevail
back when guru used to manifest the rhyme
i was known for nothin’ less than just a candidate for crime
in and out of ibiza, spendin’ power, a visa
standin’ the test of time like the leaning tower of pisa
in my d-zone so the b-tches gon’ sweat it
got the same piece of chrome sweets loaned bishop on credit
got the glock craig used to help out smokey and day-day with
the 38 mad dog used to pop jj with

[verse 3]
everybody comin’ with their hit record, big record
this gon’ play in the clubs, radio, chick record
either that or they come with a diss record
i come from where you don’t disrespect none of your successors
i don’t f-ck hoes that i can’t leave in less than six seconds
“who the best?” is a horrible rhetorical sick question
you guessed it, i’m throwin’ bullets at you, but you ain’t about to go for long
i’ll pull the .44 and let it bang like post malone
might as well get ready for your tomb, you play me
tell your wife she gon’ be solo soon like swae lee
quarter pills, recoupin’ the deal worth a quarter mil’
all i’m tryna do is stay black and get out like jordan peele
everybody do it for the accolades, i’m tired of them
i ain’t cared about grammys since jay boycotted them
spent my first advance at manny’s followin’ pharrell and them
used to ask b-tches for -ss, now i’m just tellin’ them
if i get anymore fly, i’ma need my own sp-ce suit
got these hoes gettin’ naked like they high off k2
all i need is five minutes, every style get augmented
well-endowed, in god’s image, never smiled, kawhi leonard
these pellets of pedophiles comin’ out this arm, bro
they touchy, trust me, dudley, arnold
my show start at 12 and it sold out by 11
rappers blow up, then they debut their whole album on ellen

[verse 4]
ain’t n0body fresher than him, that dealt with more pressure than him
never dealt with n-ggas whose image is skinny stretchy denim
just remember everyone who with me winners
everyone who with you dinner
b-tches switchin’ quick as bruce and krissy jenner
chrome rims on the whip, just to shine on n-ggas
black tires, the lip white, tyrone biggums
we givin’ out turkeys on thanksgiving like nino with us
we even p-ssin’ out tvs like wendy williams
all i know is that i’m the wild child
y’all don’t want no smoke with these bars
all y’all n-ggas know is y’all soundcloud
let’s hypothetically say i’m p-ssed
i would definitely ar grip, i would definitely spray off quick
y’all expectin’ me to hesitate to shoot this b-tch
then y’all are definitely in the playoffs with jr smith
i’ll definitely put my hand in your pockets but not the way you want
i’ll put your whole family in boxes like y’all the brady bunch
i go bananas, too miraculous to react to mortal mammals
cookin’ crack in my new velour pajamas
gettin’ back to my roots rap where i store them hammers
lore the grammar, my iqs my actual quarter-panel
my ip address is my dresser drawer
i ain’t stressin’ unless it’s war, i ain’t session, less is more
i bet you you’ll die less of my iron’s legend for regrettin’ gore
ghost whiter than the driven snow and it’s headed north
lookin’ like it’s four of the seven dwarfs, flows and metaphors
bury skulls all over the globe like a stegosaurus
why these n-ggas gettin’ their hair dyed and their nails polished?
i’m like biggie and pac trapped inside of big l’s body
i don’t relate to common folk, they focus on the comments
so i’ma go roll a testarossa down the coast of monaco
lo and behold your honorable, n-ggas is sheep
n-ggas asleep, ’bout as woke as a dinosaur
my connect’ll give you a whole kilo of c0ke
so he can go geronimo
he should receive a trophy for bein’ the holy
jesus of flows, he the goat
baaaaaah, that should be my tag
i’m from the streets where the odds are not even
robbery themin’, ball, it’s debauchery schemin’
allah and jesus, it’s hard to believe
i’m a product of eve in the garden of eden
thinkin’ how targeted we’ve been
rihanna’s stalker, i’m parked in her dms
shark in the deep end
put these paws on you, i’ll soften your defense
hit your pause b-tton, halt your critiquin’
talk is cheap, the more i hear you talkin’, it cheapens
and all i see is prey ’round the streets today
i’m ’bout a freak away from havin’ issa rae eatin’ out lisa raye
any artist out that you see is great
tell him i said bring his -ss, better bring his a
let his single play
we don’t care what you sing
hit you in your face with the b-tt of the gun
you leak and give your street credit a few streams
pop go to weasel n-gga fever n-gga i’m the illest
you got pop culture fever, n-gga
all i know is b.i.g. and pac quotes
pop toaster, squeeze the triggers, season tickets
now i pull the cops over, give them n-ggas season tickets
wifey used to shoot me down vicious, now she the missus
she turned me to a family guy quicker than peter griffin
i told myself when i was 14 that she the one
now a n-gga prolly got more seeds than peter gunz
now a n-gga grow up, my groceries in two-seaters
used to roll the old-school, four speakers and two tweeters
ridin’ with nothin’ but raw, quarter packs in duffles
ryan writes heaters
y’all n-ggas is cut like one of them get rich or die trying wife beaters
me, i’m just all shoulder straps and muscle
if you’re a hater, let’s do it
i’ll whip you now then i’ll whip on your boy later
them whippings’ll go around like a tornado
i get rid of more yayo
i don’t do rodeo or ayos, i do the floyd may-o
so many men shoppin’ in women’s section it ain’t no ladies left
you n-ggas crazy, yes
you playin’ crazy like the chappelle sketch, wayne brady ep
i’m what you get when freeway rick and cocaine ’80s met
i’m bringin’ bars back to the street like jay and nas beef
broadcastin’ ether in hd at godspeed

[outro]
prhyme available 3/16

- royce da 59

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