Boom - Royce 5'9

Tick tick tick.

yeah.

5'9 uhh

Yo.

I’m the verbal-spit Smith Wesson, I unload

with sick spit that quick wick to split a split-second

Bomb with a lit wick expression

You here a tick tick then you testin.

My saliva and spit can split thread into fiber and bits

So trust me, I’m as live as it gets

Everybody claimin they the best and head the throne

since B.I.G is gone, if you ask me, they Dead Wrong

My flow is hotter than the flash from the click

When the hammer slaps the bullet on the ass from the clip

You wind up in a room full of my dawgs

I’ll have you feeling like a fire hydrant in a room full of dogs

So come, come now, get pissed on, shitted on Tough talk turns to, Can’t we all just get along

You get blazed when the mic’s off, shot when it’s on You probably ducked when they laid the gun shot in your song

My gun strrr-utters when it speaks to you

Utter shit to repeat to you

Nothing to clip, then give a speech to you

Me and Premier, we kind of the same in ways

We both speak with our hands in dangerous ways

Rap now is a circus of clowns

A whole lot of lip from clicks I’ll probably rap circles around

I’m the next best to reach a peak formerly known

as the best keep secret, I guess that I just leaped it it gets

It gets tragic like the havoc of a nuclear bomb →Guru*}

Boom.

bam, God DAMN!

Royce 5−9

I’m a motherfucking star, I don’t battle no mo'

I provide the the gun clapping around of applause after ya show

We can go toe to toe cause they calling you hot

Stepping around all your punches like that’s all you got?

Everyday I’m meeting somebody and all of they peeps

Quick to shake a nigga’s hand and show me all of they teeth

And these bitches I be patting they asses

They be all dumb and googly-eyed lookin at me, battin they lashes

Rappers think Detroit niggaz not as down as them

Or since I’m down with Slim that I sound like him

Quick to judge me and tell me that my hook might sell

and say faggot shit to me like I look like L My advice quit talking it’s over

I was knocking niggaz out while you were knocking sticks off they shoulders

I got dirt done in the past, I know y’all sweat

I got regrets older than some of you so called vets

niggaz say I found God with the flow

Bring the police to the studio and bring the bomb squad to the show

Ain’t a nigga touching mines

When you listen to my shit you don’t chew, you don’t breathe,

you don’t miss a fucking line

Every time I spit, I tick to show you it’s hot

Leave me in the deck too long I blow up your box

BOOM!

Boom.

bam, God — DAMN!

Royce 5−9

Boom.

bam, God — DAMN!

Royce 5−9

Boom.

bam, God — DAMN!

Royce 5−9

Boom.

bam, God God — DAMN!

Royce 5−9