[Verse 1: Royce da 5'9"]
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(Today’s agenda) riding with them sodomy sisters
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Pistol on hip, hip to your pistol
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The day I bow down to a bitch will be the day I throw a bottle at Rihanna inside of a strip club
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Leave the booth just to leave a tooth floating around inside of your pimp cup
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What goes around comes around in the form of karma
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Nah, that’s probably just me riding around your town in a Fisker
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Penning a rhyme equivalent to a winning lottery ticket
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Uh, fresh of that weight scale, living a crooked heaven on Earth
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Giving them straight hell
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Kick in the door of them awards, wondering where are we sitting
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Niggas with tight jeans looking like where are they fitting
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Beware of they writtens
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It’s parallel to an Arab sitting in the terrorist cockpit heading for hell’s kitchen
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I talk greasier than Harold’s Chicken
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Don’t cross me I leave scales tipping
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I’m coming (fresh off that weight scale, fresh off that weight scale
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Fresh off that, fresh off that, fresh off that weight scale)
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My bitch curvy as a Persian virgin’s features
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She here to serve me, she here to disturb the reaper
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I keep bank, speak Franklins, word to Aretha
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I’m fly as a bird and high as the Burj Khalifa
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I ride with kings, y’all ride with fiends
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You fraudulent niggas remind me of a ponzi scheme
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One of y’all niggas was probably cool in school
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The rest of y’all niggas was clowns, we should call you the Fonzi team
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I’m hate-prone
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Niggas listen like ain’t this about a bitch like it’s a Drake song ‘cause my cake long
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So stay strong ‘cause your bitch giving me cheekbone
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Like Grace Jones using my dick like a payphone
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But she ain’t getting the call back
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She getting the ball sack, hitting the jaw just where we parked at
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Quick as a car jack, I ain’t tryna be funny
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I’m tryna be missionary lying on top of my money
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I’m coming (fresh off that weight scale)
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[Verse 2: Crooked I]
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(Today’s agenda) what the fuck would I stop for
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Knowing I need more guap stored in my sock drawer
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They want an encore when the flow is at mach four
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King of the jungle no lying, I let the Glock roar
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And this bulletproof vest is irrelevant
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I’m telling them look at your melon, I’m nailing a shell in it
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And the shell is moving right through your melon into your skeleton
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Then the felon is belling the same pitch the fella was yelling and
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Police sirens respond to heat firing, I’ma keep firing
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I’ma flee, I’ma be quiet, I’m a G, I’m a beat tyrant
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From Long Beach and I’m East Side
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I oughta, bury you artists like an artifact
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Serious as a heart attack, Dodger hat, slaughter tats
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Roger that, Art Of Rap, that’s me
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Can’t believe Ice never thought of that, who the fuck brought it back
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(Fresh off that weight scale, fresh off that weight scale
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Fresh off that, fresh off that, fresh off that weight scale)
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Fresh off that weight scale
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I guess I’m Canibus and Kool Moe Dee, ‘cause it’s hard for me to take L’s
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I’m tryna make more cake than a bake sale
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Tell the jakes I’ma make bail then escape ‘cause I hate jail
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All these rappers saying they spitting hard raps
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Before I buy that shit, show me the Barfax
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I got a tongue like a sharp ax
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I got a ton of rhymes flyer than anything launching off tarmacs
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This is how real it is
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When I ghostwrite for niggas, I’m speaking through them, I’m really just a ventriloquist
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A iller lyricst, a hint of ignorance
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A pinch of militant, a perfect description of what this nigga is
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Pull out a scale and weigh CDs
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Then distribute it to the fans ‘til they need me
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I’m a drug dealer so put out an APB
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The same shit that gave these 80s babies ADD
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[Verse 3: Joell Oritz]
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(Today’s agenda) pyrex sit in the kitchen feeling your eye sweat
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Gripping your wrist and watching that pie strech
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Pitching to different niggas for figures, never slipping
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5-0 tripping, I dip on them through the projects
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Dope boy mindset, gotta get this money
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Apply the same grind to this rhyme shit
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Dummy pick a pad, pick a pen, pick a track
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Pick a flow, I pick it apart like a locksmith digging in his nose
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| Sit in the park with the D |
