(feat. June the Great)
|
|
|
|
[Intro - Royce talking]
|
You are now rocking to the sounds of my dawg. DJ Green Lantern
|
Bar Exam 2 nigga. It's a motherfuckin' holiday bitches
|
|
[Verse 1 - June the Great]
|
I slang hope to the world like my name was Obama
|
Shakin' hands with your father while I'm fuckin' yo momma
|
Drama
|
But I'ma say I'm in a league of my own
|
Blowin' my own horn
|
Horns of my cousin, Chevy in Texas
|
I had to shout him out he's from the south
|
Got pussy with me for my brother when he get out
|
No doubt
|
It goes one for the money
|
Two for the show
|
Three for the M.I.C. now let's go
|
June's flow is pro
|
Turn my speakers up louder
|
Learn my shit
|
Then recite it up in the shower
|
No homo
|
Yeah, peep my promo on behalf of the Bar Exam 2
|
This is my message from me to you
|
They'll probably be happy when I'm long gone
|
But that'll never happen cause I got way too many songs
|
MC's take note, but don't quote too much
|
Find your own style and get 'mo in touch
|
Plus
|
Pussy make the world go round and mine spinnin' out of control
|
Where I'ma stop, nobody knows
|
You don't want me close to ya
|
Scared I might roast ya
|
But if I should stop, then who these streets gonna toast to?
|
Here's the book of life, I just wrote you a new page
|
Inspired by the beat, by the smell of my purple haze
|
Hey, Grand River niggas up to no good
|
June 1st
|
I bring you all closer to my hood
|
|
[Chorus]
|
Wall Street
|
Wall Street
|
Yeah, yeah
|
Uh huh
|
|
[Verse 2]
|
My appetite for destruction
|
My type to do the bustin'
|
I eat the beat up like I got an appetite for percussion
|
Lighten the mood like it's night and there's moonlight
|
Platoon, high on them shrooms but this ain't no food fight
|
Witch
|
I could fly on a broom stick to my rude type
|
My crew don't be 'bout no excuses, gesundheit
|
God bless you, sneeze
|
I'll wet you, sleeves
|
Your arms ain't like ours yet, our recipe is...
|
Beef on a platter
|
Go on and chatter, it don't matter
|
My cheese, I'm eatin' like I'm obese but only fatter
|
I only know how to do it the Harriet Tub way
|
I'm Underground like the Railroad, I'm prepared to get ugly
|
My narrative thug day, can only compare me to drugs
|
I take a nigga way from him like Jared from Subway
|
You, could, never ever be on my level
|
You don't know what you're in
|
But you're in/urine guns like I took a pee on my metal
|
Just me and my shuttle
|
We fly
|
We go together like my feet and my petal
|
We ride
|
How could I not be greatest?
|
When I got Muhammad Ali boxin' inside me in Vegas
|
Aye
|
Haters
|
I just wanna say this
|
I know I'm underrated
|
But I ain't under paid when it comes to makin'
|
Money
|
I'm so hot I feel like the son of Satan
|
I'm so hot I feel like the sun is hatin'
|
Your bitch
|
Hhhhuhhhhuhhhh
|
Breathin' like a hundred H's
|
I am the reason for your under takin'
|
There's only one equation
|
And it equals I am the sum of greatness
|
|
Yeah, yeah
|
Uh huh
|
|
-----------------
|
Wall Street
|
Royce Da 5'9'' |