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royce & reggie - royce da 5'9" lyrics

[intro: redman]
ayo, royce!
i don’t like that sh*t, n*gga
i don’t like that sh*t
redman in the building
royce five*f*ckin*nine in the f*ckin’ buildin’
yeah, yeah
yessir, let’s get ’em, n*gga, yo

[verse 1: redman & royce da 5’9″]
it’s red, n*gga, my bar’s up, i hit the gym
i see you walkin’ in my shoes, they’re my old timbs
and when you ignorant, n*gga, media roll them
and here’s the cut, i’m dr. dre’in how i bail em’
yeah, in the bay, they say i’m h*lla tough
they say “red, you spit like kids on that yellow bus”
plus i could go a hundred rounds, i hold it down
like with smack, sayin’ “it’s too loud in the background”
that’s me, i need a therapist, attitude airless
arrogant likе a eric inheritance
my middle fingеrs say “god bless america”
drop*top, blood in my mouth, bumpin’ jamiroquai
i godd*mn d ’em, women all on my dm
give ’em that super d*ck, yeah, i apollo creed ’em
i’m workin’ smarter, not harder, no doors for my daughter
she learnin’ to be a boss like her father, ehh
when it come to emceein’, n*ggas ain’t got a clue
that’s why no mission impossible ya’ll for me to cruise
and haters hate cause i rock wit’ that coldplay
he ain’t gon’ last, he gon’ fall, i say “okay!”
watch this while i’m high in a c*ckpit
you could die in a moshpit at my show and held for hostage
yo five*nine! what up, reggie? i make it clear
tell dae dae’ father that we the king around here
[chorus: redman]
when redman spittin’, royce, they don’t like that
we two rappin’ ass n*ggas, they don’t like that
i pull up in that g*ride, they don’t like that
i act a fool in the cypher, they don’t like that
huh, look at your face, you don’t like that
i can tell the way you talkin’, you don’t like that, huh

[postchorus: royce da 5’9″]
i don’t like them n*ggas* i don’t like ’em either. drop a dime on ’em. f*ck them n*ggas. lemme go get it

[verse 2: royce da 5’9″]
uh
i said “whatever n*gga been talkin’ big can just die a bigger death”
coffins on top of pallbearers, crowdsurfin like mister meth’
i’m sl!ck*handed, ’bout to car*check you, then switch gambits
f*cked so many b*tches; ’bout to start dressin’ like nick cannon
you better bring your guitars with you, you ain’t with violence
i suggest you bring your side piece if your wifey ain’t a goddess
i think you’re quite a lame imbibement, ya’ll n*ggas party
not me, i hang out at bar mitzvahs with lorena bobbitt
my underground train of thought is something you new slaves
just can’t abolish, askin’ “do trump wear a toupee?”
it’s crazy as askin’ “do i bump murals by lupe?”
fly frontier, cry tear tats onto a new page
to a new moniker, god of your era, born winner
when i die i’m gone with the wind like scarlett o’hara
my ferrari steering column already put me
in a different profit margin and era, sh*t, the maybach
might just put me in dubai gettin’ a white cloth with the arabs
condo so high in the sky, you could fly from right off of the terrace
there is no such thing as using artists as tax write*offs
but i have heard of a person buying off a career
then ride off in a 911 carrera
leaving behind a artist on def jam with the irs in his ear
and my question is will ya ever compare
to that higher up white guy exec who signin’ those checks
then k!ll ya
[chorus: redman]
when redman spittin’, royce, they don’t like that
we two rappin’ ass n*ggas, they don’t like that
i pull up in that g*ride, they don’t like that
i act a fool in the cypher, they don’t like that
huh, look at your face, you don’t like that
i can tell the way you talkin’, you don’t like that, huh

[postchorus: royce da 5’9″]
i don’t like them n*ggas* i don’t like ’em either. drop a dime on ’em. f*ck them n*ggas. lemme go get it

[record scratches]

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