Motown 25 - eLZhi, Royce 5'9

I end careers, years, pierce ears fierce with spears

They say I’m gifted, get lifted like the beers in Cheers

Catch a thunder bolt, pockets stay lump from hundred notes

Stunning quotes make you run your coat while the sun’s afloat

Prehaps, my skill is real as G Rap’s, it feel as ill

As concealing drills in the knee caps

Your funny style get three snaps in the circle

When off the purple and greens

I’m higher than the jeans on Urkel, then I murk you

Bust tecs, the lead sparking now who be my next head target

I lift up, roll out, like the red carpet

Say my name three times in the mirror and if I hear you

I’ll appear clearer, extend both arms and pull you nearer

Pound for pound, I’m pretty live on the mic

And keep it flooded like Mike, on Motown 25

Put your soul on ice and sold it for a whole known price

I’m nice, keep a knot swole on dice

Grin is sarcastic, the way my pen’ll spark acid on the bar

Whether in the crib or the car, blast it

Son is a, prob' rob funds from your publisher

While his dogs put his guns to you like the Punisher

Or the Terminator, flow is harder than a German major

Midtermin' paper, the kid burns the saber

Striking cats, how you want it, gats, spike or bats

I know you liking that, I stay sharper than Viking hats

Exhale, blowed mist, served you with a cold dish

Niggas vomiting, bowels moving, they can’t hold piss

EL and Royce, double team, hotter than a cup of steam

Club your spleen and bury you, just as deep as a submarine

Flawless, should be that very reason you applaud us

You saw us laying down a law just as raw as crawfish

You met your death and although, I took away your breath

And I ran, I still left with a grand like Theft Auto

You little niggas can’t touch me, baby

Okay, maybe Jay-Z or maybe not

Pardon if I sound lazy, I’ve been puffing crazy

Writing Puff’s shit, so mothafucka, fuck you, pay me

Or lay down in your feces, my guns talk, I’m speechless

My pen’s that Teller, I bends that fella, now peep this

I eat you and then wash you down with who you eat with

Me and eLZhi, yeah, we split, he’s sick, I’m sick

I’m sick of how sick he is, he’s sick of how sick me is

Me, baby me, sickest in the D, since the Shady LP

I can fuck, that’s what ladies tell me

'83, I was fucking, I was six

Head in my momma’s daycare, yeah, that was nothing, I’m the shit

Back into my rhyme again, niggas call me arrogant

That’s because I’m confident, I found it when I found a pen

Three deals later, three meals later, tryna win

About to be signed again, that’s right, I’m bout to clown again

Knock-knock, who is that?

It’s the cat that’ll snap

Throw cheese in the trap, on your homie, you a rat

Ha-ha-ha, I’m back, matter of fact I’ve never left

Those who say they ain’t expect it, can’t accept it

Haters left this boy no choice but to blow

Fuck another ho from on another pole, fuck a show

Fuck a flow, I’m about getting money fast

While you rapping or perhaps you hustling sucka-slow

Ice glow, sticky green, Bush on sicky team

Capone, put powerful White Boy Ricky cream

Get him straight if he leans, fifty fiends in a line

Nickel Nine, been around, niggas you would kneel around

From Milan to Iran, I’m a don, now when I’m around

Niggas calmin down, eatin like it’s Ramadan