The Imperial - Statik Selektah, Action Bronson, Royce 5'9

Yo it’s the rap Scott Disick

Come through the fuckin' block with some hot lizards

Blowin' loud in the blizzard

Put 6 digits on the Wizards, shit, just don’t tell my misses

Damn, she throw the dice with a red glove

Spread love, spread legs from the bed to the tub

Floor to the closet

Real sex on the Panasonic

I’m gettin' head in the pool, bitch

Bitch, I’m just better than you

Yeah, around the world like 4 times

All because a mothafucka spit raw rhymes

Yeah, more lines, more lines

Shit, feed 'em more lines and more lines

I won’t dumb it down for morons

It’s like shootin' big game with a small 9

Bottom line of sellin' these pebbles

Get away with your life earnin’s while I’m tryna dodge these devils

The whole squad Gucci, Jordans, but chances are

You in LV if you runnin' with these rebels

I’m sellin' wrapped up, capped up vials of crack

Every syllable and vowel is a fact, I throw stacks

The chick ridin' with me, she polished, she a dime

She stylish, check her HOEFAX, her mileage is back, she solid

The Desert Eagle here to better the people

Sellin' perico like there is no I or L in illegal

I hire felons, to sew up the streets, while I let you believe

That it’s better to be you, baby, I call that threadin' the needle

You know me, it ain’t nothin' corny in the wardrobe

I’m low key, even more so than Thor’s bro

Impeccable ear, I take Braille, make it Morse Code

Then peddle it like I’m tryna make the Porsche go

And you say New York City

My cheapest t-shirts cost me $ 450

Listen for me, the call of the wild is «Go Philly!»

It’s shorties in the front row flashin' both titties

The texture of my voice is coarse, it’s so gritty

That I could make the people revolt with no Diddy

I used to kick it with Hex Murda, Frank Nitty

In the D where he would bring J. Dilla and Dank with him

Riq Geez for mayor, a franchise player

Yeah, you might say I’m in the book of Isaiah

The highway is when it’s my way

Yeah I’ma put a polka dot on your dome, and Kwamé yah

This is the big payoff, soliloquy of Chaos

Another rapper gon' get rocked like Amadeus

Defeat’ll make a nigga get ghost like a seance

It’s triple entendre, three stacks of, hey ya

I plan to keep a band like Fela

Until when my career’s over like A. I

It’s me and the Muhammads, Ali’s, bay’ah

That never played the porch or asked for mother, may I

Listen, my callin' card ball hard like armadillos

Rappers too thin to win, like cigarillos

Shakin' their hair back and forth like Willow

But need to save the soft ass talkin' for the pillows

I had a issue with a hater, now it’s kinda squashed

Like a slug below the soles of the St. Laurents

My response, a steppin' razor like I’m Father Tosh

Exotic fabrics on my blazer like the Maharaja

Sick whips in my garage, roll with no entourage

But I roll with heat like I’m Dwayne Wade, Lebron and Bosh

I keep the paper stacked in layers like baklavas

Even though they give us ours free, like the Amistad

I know I’m sort of pompous, no type of moral compass

Go right the fuck up in your mouth like I’m the orthodontist

Some rappers just startin' out, but me, I’m more accomplished

The imperial Black Thought from The Foreign Objects

I created a movement not just related to music

They keep askin' me what’s my take on the state of the union

All these haters is human, but I’m a different breed

They be crazy cartoonish, but I’m in a different league

Killer colloquium, kush rolled with opium

Makin' my associates act so inappropriate

I got weapons manufactured in the Soviet

Now I’m like Future on that «I just won a trophy» shit

Ayo the, the, the boss is back

Take that, and while you’re at it, make my coffee black

I tried to tell you mothafuckas on Respond/React

I’m the nastiest to do it, as a matter of fact

Yo who your top 5?

Jay, Biggie, Pac, Nas

I ain’t tryna hear another name if it’s not mine

Any side talkin', I’ma consider it shots fired

At the outlier, and start it up like a hotwire, nigga