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Vince Staples – Love Can Be… (feat. Ray J, Damon Albarn & Kilo Kish) (On The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon) (Live)

[Intro: Damon Albarn]
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be disheartening, darling
Love can be

[Verse 1: Kilo Kish]
Love can be a lot, so maybe not
You can give me all the cash you got
Let me take those keys around the block
Make some memories on daddy’s yacht
I’m so over you
You talk a lot of shit, unamused
Ain’t putting on the ritz for no dude
I can finish you, I can fill them shoes
You know my name, I’m not your babe
What’s that you’re saying? I don’t speak lame
You know my name, I’m not your babe
If you’re thinking of calling, kindly refrain

[Verse 2: Vince Staples]
Wannabes buzzing
Girls love the lifestyle
So prone to clubbing
Come alive when the night’s out
Just crashed a sports car
So much for fast life
Phone calls from loves lost
Tryna get back right

[Bridge: Ray J]
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be, yeah
Love can be so disheartening, darling
Love can be
Love can be, yeah
Love can be

[Verse 3: Vince Staples]
Tell the world I want my Uchies
Dodge the groupies, them don’t move me
Uchies moved me somewhere cozy
Uchies never leave me lonely
Call my phone, say she horny, want me
I can make time or I can make money
I’ma keep countin’, count me out, shawty
Never let a bitch Lil Bow Wow me
Never finna weekend raise my seed
Baby mama drama on the TMZ
Alimony money for the nails and weave
Nail me to the cross like that boy JC
Chuckin’ up the deuce like the boy Chris Breeze
But we don’t suwoop on the six-five street
Riding down the shoreline, tank on E
No shotgun seat, this dick ain’t free

[Outro: Vince Staples & Damon Albarn]
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be disheartening, darling
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be
Love can be disheartening, darling
Love can be
Love can be

Moses Sumney – Doomed

Hollow one
With inverted tongue
From whence does fulfillment come
When I expel
From this mortal shell
Will I die for living numb

Am I vital
If my heart is idle
Am I doomed?

I feel you
But nobody else
Though you’re someone I can’t see
Yet you say nothing
Of the stoic suffering
That stirs lukewarm in me
If lovelessness is godlessness
Will you cast me to the wayside
Well, I feel the peeling
Of half/high-painted ceilings
Reveal the covering of a grey sky

Am I vital
If my heart is idle
Am I doomed?
Cradle me
So I can see
If I’m doomed
Am I vital
If my heart is idle
Am I doomed?
Cradle me
So I can see
If I’m doomed

Freddie Gibbs – Andrea

[Intro]
Yeah, rock solid nigga
Solid as a motherfuckin’ rock, bitch
Yeah, nigga

[Verse]
When you fall, who you gon’ land on?
Niggas foundation is shaky, ain’t shit to stand on
A man’s born with the only guarantee to live and die
But will I die before I live, ‘fore I begin to fly?
Nigga, I can’t deny when I’m not high, I miss that rush, that shit be callin’ me
Demons never rest, I go to sleep, them bitches follow me
I just bought a AR for my dog, he walked the dog for me
Breakfast, sip promethazine with Ocean Spray and Broccoli
Catch these hoes and I act like I can’t keep these bitches off of me
They only fuckin’ a nigga that got the most dollars in his
Squadary
I went to visit my nigga, he caught him a charge, his cards was fraudulent
Time to go get me some yayo, I know that Andrea gon’ lease that car for me
That Bentley Benz or Beamer, shippin’ B’s, I don’t be in it
Not to let these bitches see me in it, fuck the ceilin’
Nigga wanna be me, he wish he could see the G in him
She work in the mornin’, get that pussy in the PM then
I get in it then I jetted, it was a fly by, red bottoms, the thigh high
And every time she see me, she’s sayin’ I don’t know why I
Fuck with niggas like you ’cause at first, you would play the shy guy
Give me that pussy once and I always got it like the Wi-Fi, bitch
I went to visit my nigga, he caught him a charge, his cards was fraudulent
Time to go get me some yayo, I know that Andrea gon’ lease that car for me
I remember when Dukie lost his arm in fuckin’ armed robbery
When I seen his shit was danglin’, almost felt my heart stoppin’ G
Stop it G, drop it G, so much weed, forgot to breathe
Some niggas take the trip I took, but they don’t get to leave
Came out that bitch, I’m speakin’ Russian, German, Guapanese
Can’t let these niggas stunt my growth from livin’ for my seed

[Chorus]
Level up, I’m on a stage, I gotta get paid
I can never be a slave for minimum wage
Cop an ounce up off the way, you fill ’em with K’s
Level up, I’m on a stage, I gotta get paid
Level up, I’m on a stage, I gotta get paid
I can never be a slave for minimum wage
Cop an ounce up off the way, you fill ’em with K’s
Level up, I’m on a stage, I gotta get paid

[Interlude: Big Time Watts]
Big Time baby
[Gimme a call back, bae bruh]
Big Time Watts motherfucker, fuck you
Punk motherfucker, who loves you, bitch ass nigga
Big Time

[Outro]
Shit, momma always told me "go and get your own shit"
Coke in front of me, nothin’, so I got my own shit
Dope and cocaína powder, off in to the wrong shit
I been tryna fuck her for a month, but she ain’t on shit
Start to make a nigga feel like I be in the wrong bitch
Skip the introduction, I just hit her with the long dick
Tried to drop the 50 pointer and I get my phone lit
Niggas looking for the, for the….. shit
Niggas always talkin’ ’bout their bitches ain’t shit
Caught a charge, my baby mama, she was solid as a brick
All the niggas I was feedin’, they ain’t give a nigga shit
Momma always told me "nigga, go and get your own shit"
Toilet right next to my bed, I’m sleeping by my own shit!
Dope and cocaina powder, off in to the wrong shit
I just dropped a 50 pointer and got my phone lit
Got my phone lit

Young Lito – Unforgettable (Freestyle)

[Intro]
Oh yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh

[Chorus]
I found you
Girl, I like being around you
Feel like Kanye, I’m Bound 2
Shawty, if you down, I’m down too
Yeah, I found you
Girl, I like being around you
Feel like Kanye, I’m Bound 2
Shawty, if you down, I’m down too

[Verse]
High class, shawty so bad
Hella swag, she got all these bitches mad
She the type of girl a nigga wish he had
She the type that if you get her, you can brag
Little shawty got her own and I like that
Hit the mall, she ain’t worried ’bout a price tag
She got all these niggas out here tryna wife that
And a lil’ nigga tryna pipe that
She can get whatever she want
She can get that new Saint Laurent
I could put that Rollie on her arm
And I can get the bracelet with the charm

[Chorus]
I found you
Girl, I like being around you
Feel like Kanye, I’m Bound 2
Shawty, if you down, I’m down too
Yeah, I found you
Girl, I like being around you
Feel like Kanye, I’m Bound 2
Shawty, if you down, I’m down too

[Bridge]
You are unforgettable
And I’m so glad that I found you
And you are unforgettable
And I’m so glad that I found you

[Chorus]
I found you
Girl, I like being around you
Feel like Kanye, I’m Bound 2
Shawty, if you down, I’m down too
Yeah, I found you
Girl, I like being around you
Feel like Kanye, I’m Bound 2
Shawty, if you down, I’m down too

Ugly God – Fuck Ugly God

[Chorus]
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (Aye!)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (Aye!)

[Verse 1]
Fuck Ugly God, Ugly God a hoe
Flexing like you got it, bitch I know your ass is broke
Your networth say you got a million but your ass don’t
You a one hit wonder, bitch, your whole career a joke
Back in 10th grade, your coach kicked you off the team
Every single day, you wear them same pair of jeans
Them same black pants, bitch, you know which ones I mean
Four years ago, you got jumped on Halloween

[Chorus]
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (Aye!)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (Aye!)

[Verse 2]
Water this, water that, you finna get exposed
Back in eighth grade, you use to borrow niggas’ clothes
You act like a freak, but you ain’t never sucked no toes
You still owe your college three bands in student loans
You don’t got no hoes, everyday you beat your meat
You don’t want these problems, pussy boy, you know you weak
When I catch you slipping, I’m gon’ punch you in your teeth
Ugly God a bitch, pussy boy don’t want no beef

[Chorus]
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (Aye!)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (What?)
Fuck Ugly God (Aye!)

Fabolous – Stacks Up (feat. PnB Rock)

[Chorus: Pnb Rock]
I got the map, I just came through
I just flex in a new Jag’
I just hit the mall
I just blew another bag
I can’t count it all, I got way too much to ask
And it just keep on stackin’ up
I got the map, I just came through
I just flex in a new Jag’
I just hit the mall
I just blew another bag
I can’t count it all, I got way too much to ask
And it just keep on stackin’ up

[Verse 1: Fabolous]
They keep on actin’ up, I just be crackin’ up
They keep on reachin’ and I just be stackin’ up
I be too high for they down talkin’
When I do say that’s the round talkin’
I do my numbers and let them keep count
I got keys in my mattress, so fuck your sheep count
Listen, have you ever, ever seen a focus switch
Like you went to sleep broke but you over rich
Like you pulled up in foreign to some local shit
And made them niggas go crazy on some Joker shit
I said shout my Harley Quinns, lookin’ like Kylie Jenns
We gon’ hit the club and light it up, halogens

[Chorus: Pnb Rock]
I got the map, I just came through
I just flex in a new Jag’
I just hit the mall
I just blew another bag
I can’t count it all, I got way too much to ask
And it just keep on stackin’ up
I got the map, I just came through
I just flex in a new Jag’
I just hit the mall
I just blew another bag
I can’t count it all, I got way too much to ask
And it just keep on stackin’ up

[Verse 2: Pnb Rock]
Stack it up like Legos
Spend it all like play doughs
I ain’t on the top but I’m on my way though
So all this girls ain’t doin’ what I say so
I was chasin’ the bag
I’m on my way to some cash
So if it ain’t bout no money, my niggas they don’t even ask
Yeah, you know I’m on my way
Poppin’ xannies so I stay up
Like a marry jeans
Breeze be supreme
Gucci be so clean
I’m a Louis fiend
Big body, yeah
Chopped out, yeah
Haters they gon’ stare
You know I don’t care

[Chorus: Pnb Rock]
I got the map, I just came through
I just flex in a new Jag’
I just hit the mall
I just blew another bag
I can’t count it all, I got way too much to ask
And it just keep on stackin’ up
I got the map, I just came through
I just flex in a new Jag’
I just hit the mall
I just blew another bag
I can’t count it all, I got way too much to ask
And it just keep on stackin’ up

Key Glock – Winning (Glock Season Album)

[Hook]
You losing, we winning
I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
I ain’t chasing these bitches
I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
Choppa kick, mortal combat
I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
I’m at the trap where the bombs at
Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at
You losing, we winning
I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
I ain’t chasing these bitches
I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
Choppa kick, mortal combat
I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
I’m at the trap where the bombs at
Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at

[Verse 1]
Hundreds, fifties, twenties
All I know is get plenty
Got this forty on my waist
This ain’t no Gucci or a Fendi
Bad lil bitch run around like a hemi
But I’m still pourin mud and rolling up sticky
(Steady rolling up sticky)
Hopped up in a foreign, I’m peeling I’m drifting
(Hopped up in a foreign, I’m peeling I’m drifting)
Find a nigga like me, baby I ain’t too many
All of my niggas chase checks
You can get wet
You play with that, Guap
All of my niggas tote that
Like rubberbands, you can get popped
My young niggas crazy
They don’t give a fuck
Balling so hard, my team is so clutch
We shooting to kill
Like Donald boy duck
You keep talking down
Ima keep running up

[Hook]
You losing, we winning
I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
I ain’t chasing these bitches
I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
Choppa kick, mortal combat
I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
I’m at the trap where the bombs at
Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at
You losing, we winning
I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
I ain’t chasing these bitches
I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
Choppa kick, mortal combat
I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
I’m at the trap where the bombs at
Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at

[Verse 2]
I grind it up from a corn sack
You smell that loud, That’s that skunk pack
This hundred round drum, Ima dump that
And my pockets swole, they be pouring fat
Yea my money long as giraffe neck
We got them choppas like Baghdad
Where is that cash, Gotta have that
Homie get ya bitch, before I smash that
I hit her then quit her, I don’t give a fuck!
(I hit her then quit her, don’t give no fuck!)
I’m not from Milwaukee , I’m just bout the bucks
(I ain’t from no Milwaukee, bitch all Ima bout them bucks!)
These niggas be talking, like they all so tuff
(These niggas be talking, like they all so tuff)
Until we pull up, then they face freezing up

[Hook]
You losing, we winning
I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
I ain’t chasing these bitches
I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
Choppa kick, mortal combat
I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
I’m at the trap where the bombs at
Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at
You losing, we winning
I got racks like tennis, my nigga we get it
I ain’t chasing these bitches
I’m chasing these benji’s, hoe get out yo feelings
Choppa kick, mortal combat
I’m smoking gas, Now my lungs black
I’m at the trap where the bombs at
Yea I’m at the trap where them guns at

Denzel Curry – Bloodshed (13 EP)

[Verse 1]
Bitch I’m ultimate
When I flow, I drop bombs like a Soviet
Not a communist but I’m anonymous
Zero tolerance if niggas talking shit
Now you talking, the end of the partnership
Had to cut that bitch off
Send that bitch off with a fucking sawed off
Being too nice is a giving a fuck cuz
These internet niggas be thinking I’m soft
What are you lost, come down the one way
I don’t fuck with none of you niggas the long way
Send em’ to the Ultimate is the wrong way
I’m a real ass nigga, y’all boys is anime
Characters, I will embarrass you
You don’t want war in this game ain’t no challenger boy
Rather get paper and stack it my boy
With a bad bitch in a Challenger boy
You don’t want a motherfucking problem
You don’t want beef, might as well play possum, dead
Kneel before the almighty dread
Reiterate everything that I said

[Hook]
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
28 in a clip, I’ma shoot what’s left
Fucking with a black star, but I ain’t Mos Def
Biatch

[Verse 2]
Bitch I’m ultimate
When I’m spitting this lyrical syphilis
I’m intelligent but I get ignorant
Not so famous but yet I am infamous
I’m a dick and y’all niggas is feminist
Put the ill in the Iliad
Fuck that don’t take in the odd out of Odyssey
Denzel got a murdering policy
With no remorse, not accepting apologies
No jewelries, speaking tomfoolery
Fuck the rap game imma speak at my eulogy
Bury them, like a smoothie my nigga I bury them
In this world I feel like a terrarium
Out of my cranium, back in my stadium, starship
Giving you all of my hardship
Don’t give a fuck about a car, whip, slip
You don’t want a motherfucking problem
You don’t want beef, might as well play possum, dead
Kneel before the almighty dread
Reiterate everything that I said

[Hook]
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
28 in a clip, I’ma shoot what’s left
Fucking with a black star, but I ain’t Mos Def
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
Denzel, why you had to make bloodshed?
Cause a fuck nigga fucked with the ultimate
28 in a clip, I’ma shoot what’s left
Fucking with a black star, but I ain’t Mos Def
Biatch

Denzel Curry – Equalizer (feat. Ronny J) (13 EP)

[Intro]
Ultimate

[Chorus: Denzel Curry]
Equalizer, synthesizer
Ultimately, I will brutalize ya
I got the shit that could take out New York
I do not fuck with the population
Contemplation killing competition
Confrontation, reevaluation
You don’t want to see the revelation
Straps looking like a lederhosen

[Verse 1: Denzel Curry]
Stop, doctor said he couldn’t hold on
Cut, motherfucker I am Logan
N-I-G-G-A Attila The Hun
Mixed with Bishop Magic Juan
I got the fuckin’ magic wand
I am the ugly, I am so ugly
With the face, only ya mother could love me
Nothing is lovely, only get loneliness
Phoniness, only resides on the tongue
Sun is never radiant, coming undone
So instantaneous, it is begun
No way escaping it though
Suicide thoughts with the murder I wrote
Death from anonymous, broken my promises
Feeling that I will return later on
Fuck it, it’s Halo, I wouldn’t respawn

[Chorus: Denzel Curry]
Equalizer, synthesizer
Ultimately, I will brutalize ya
I got the shit that could take out New York
I do not fuck with the population
Contemplation killing competition
Confrontation, reevaluation
You don’t want to see the revelation
Straps looking like a lederhosen
Stop-

[Verse 2: Ronny J]
I fucked that bitch, she’s a fake, yuh
I got the drugs in my vape, yuh
Niggas straight [?] late, yuh
All of your diamonds is fake, yuh
Most of these niggas is waste, yuh
I got the session in case, yuh
New burly king with the fade
Keep my bitches like my diamonds, in place, yuh
Ice bag on my nuts
Watch what I’ve been on
Birch trees on my chest
Put that [?], yuh
I fucked that bitch right to sleep, yuh
I gotta battle my friends
I have got no time to waste
I hit a lick, I hit a lick
I hit a lick, it not real
Check my account and I double up
I make them bands in the day
I make them bands in the day, yuh
I hit a lick, it not real
Check my account and I double up
I make them bands in the day
I make them bands in the day, yuh
Watch the way that I flex, yuh
Shawty want me cause I’m next, yuh
She grab my wave, my [?], yuh
Look, now her panties are wet, yuh
Ah, yuh, ride my waves
Yeah, I’m paid
Ah, yuh, ride my waves
Yeah, I’m pai-

Denzel Curry – Heartless (13 EP)

[Intro]
Boop Boop Boop Boop Boop Boop
Bap Bap Blap Blap Blap Blap

[Verse: Denzel Curry]
My gun got diarrhea when it
Boop boop boop boop boop
Y’all niggas with that barking shit
That woo woo woo woo woo
Do you hear the 1 to 44, double 22
Hold on let me slow it down, Harvey DJ’s crew
Niggas be thinking they real niggas
Niggas be thinking they shining
Niggas be thinking they diamonds
My niggas movin’ in silence
You niggas don’t want a war
I lay you down with the dinosaurs
Bitch I am a megazord, industry you do not win awards
I’m high as a hoverboard
I don’t compute like a motherboard
I eat like a carnivore
None of you niggas prepared for war
This ain’t what you heard before
Roll up the green like a herbivore
This ain’t what you heard before
Roll up the green like a herbivore
Like Jordan you stay with the bullshit
My nigga I’m done with the nonsense
My nigga I’m outta my conscience
I’m throwin’ my brain out the window
A whole bunch of kush and some indo
I’m bout to roll up with my kinfolk
With all of the things that I seen
It’s looking just like what Bush wrote
Roll it up, smoke it up
And put it through the glass pipe
Fuck around with me
This’ll probably be your last night
First time she saw me it’ll probably be her last time
When she call me back
I’ma tell her it’s a bad time

[Chorus]
I do not talk shit, I rented a starship
Out of my starship, I slept with a goddess
Out of the darkness, I feel like a goblin
I am so heartless, I’m feeling so heartless
I am so heartless, why am I so heartless?
I am so heartless, why am I so heartless?
I am so heartless, why am I so heartless?
I am so heartless, why am I so heartless?

Denzel Curry – Zeltron 6 Billion (feat. Lil Ugly Mane) (13 EP)

[Intro]
Ultimate, ultimate, ultimate, ultimate, yeah

[Verse 1: Denzel Curry]
Welcome to the cellar, propelled into a realm
So then you meet me at the elm
Like Del so you could know that I’m funky as ever
Like zero, the pain is down to hill, my brain is made of steel
I crash into your soldiers like bricks thrown by Shaquille O’Neal
The coldest flow in a snow globe, my nigga I’m lost in frost
I never went to college, don’t even listen to Asher Roth
Sometimes I’m a butterfly, most times I feel like a moth
Kill my insecurities because they tried to make me soft
Kill off, you and your posse, if you cross me
Have you so shook you wouldn’t even want to cross streets
Pardon me, niggas be, Madison Square guardin’ me
You could be a statue and you still won’t be as hard as me
Fuck the industry, I only worry about my artistry
Hard to see, RIP my older brother Lotto Tree
Dawg, I’m murdering everything inside my allegory
Come back from the dead I’ll smack you to purgatory

[Chorus]
Because you cannot fuck with Zeltron 6 Bill-ion!
You lookin’ at my zoom, my shit is Sicil-ian!
Y’all lookin’ at my bitch, my bitch is Brazil-ian!
I’m finna run through to the city and kill shit!
Because you cannot fuck with Zeltron 6 Bill-ion!
You lookin’ at my zoom, my shit is Sicil-ian!
Y’all lookin’ at my bitch, my bitch is Brazil-ian!
I’m finna run through to the city and kill shit!

[Verse 2: Lil Ugly Mane]
Who else but Ugly Mane and Zel
Could rock it so funky as hell
We got it locked like a prison
Got ’em twistin’ on them D’s watching
Speaking facts like 360 degrees drop it
Wisdom, you think you mobbin’ but you isn’t
Miami back to Richmond back to Cali
They gon’ find your body in the alley
Ugly still the ugliest, Ugly still destructive
I’ma lay you down underneath the ground if you fuck with this
Head up in the clouds when the dutch is lit
Puffin’ it, I be acting foul for the fuck of it
Lately its a lot of days I feel hopeless (fuck it)
Its a lot of days I’m feeling like I’m drowning in the ocean
Put your hands on me and your hands gettin’ broken
When I hit the scene it’s like a goddamn explosion
Find me out surrounded by some shooters
They be young and old
Piffing looking crispy I got origami money folds
Ugly Mane, bars played
That blood in my veins be running cold
Running the game I be unapposed
Short fuse, don’t cut it close
Ugly Mane, bars played
That shit I spit be so morose
You better watch your mouth playa
I hit you with that lethal dose

[Chorus]
Because you cannot fuck with Zeltron 6 Bill-ion!
You lookin’ at my zoom, my shit is Sicil-ian!
Y’all lookin’ at my bitch, my bitch is Brazil-ian!
I’m finna run through to the city and kill shit!
Because you cannot fuck with Zeltron 6 Bill-ion!
You lookin’ at my zoom, my shit is Sicil-ian!
Y’all lookin’ at my bitch, my bitch is Brazil-ian!
I’m finna run through to the city and kill shit!

Royce Da 5’9″ – C Delores (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro: C. Delores Tucker]
It is obscene, it is obscene, it is obscene
In 1992 the Canadian Supreme Court ruled that it was more important to ban speech that is dehumanizing to women than to protect free speech. Now we see the direct and indirect effects. We see the rise in murder, in abuse, in battles, teen prostitution, and teen suicide. We hear the wailing mothers, the grieving sisters, the tormented brothers and fathers, and children planning their own funeral with pink dresses and pink caskets. If the filth that is portrayed in these gangsta rap videos and art is not obscene then I submit that nothing is obscene

[Verse 1]
We started off as targets
We had the Congress mad at the whole genre
Tryna get rid of us
Now it’s like we not even trying to be good
It’s like we just sitting ducks in the eyes of evil
I open windows with hopes that the wind blows you ten mo’ blessings
Set my Timbo’s next to my dresser with the Nintendo, and yes
The extendo’s on the AK 47 and it’s wrapped in the dresses of En-Vogue
It’s time, it’s time to move something
I guess we missed our window to try to prove something
Spot a whack producer from across the room
Walk up to him, smack his hookah across the moon
Break a platinum plaque over a rapper back
Go and toss that bitch into a dark lagoon
Go into the heart of the art form with a harpoon
They ain’t skilled enough to stand the field with us
You gon’ have to retire me
It’s only like four or five of you rappers who can actually inspire me
I be out here telling the truth
I should sign my autograph with a polygraph
I move in silence
Tryna get to you ‘fore you could brace yourself
Cause I’m tryna put yo’ ass in a body cast
Y’all niggas lollygag — not me
This evening I’m with the biggest spenders having the most prestigious dinner
You eating Church’s Chicken with suspicious fictitious sinners
I’m a living legend, you a fidget spinner
I’m getting cheddar, they tryna catch up to my past M’s
And I’m getting better, tryna catch up and pass Em’
I be blacking out, you could ask them
Everything I spit be sick, gag phlegm
Everything I wear be tailor-made to fit, Giraffe trim
Huh, it seem like everybody out here right now wanna be ‘Pac
While I’m zoning, stirring the pot
I’m ’bout to go so motherfucking Lamont Coleman
This ’bout to be disturbing to watch
While I’m out here swerving the drop
Your favorite rapper ’bout to get cleaned up, served in a box
Like laundry detergent, pushing ’round these birds with a mop
Tryna stay in a genius, creative state of mind
Tryna stay sharper than straight sharks in a ‘gator pond
Grate her down, all for the greater good and the greater grind
While they denying now, all these heathens be crying ’bout
Taking care of two, three dudes but these people be lying
We keeping it G, we keeping the iron out
They feed negativity, we eating vagina while
Keeping it Zion, we turning the streets of Detroit to a D zoo
Eating while we feed people to lions
The dude did eyeball, with me psycho and schizo
He think that he Luke, he like to lift you and make you skywalk
You don’t wanna play with none of his make-believe truth
They’ll make the iron speak too
He’ll do the R2D2 to your heart
Until it’s parts of a easel
Threw a piece of your heart in a jar for the people
To dissect at Juilliard
I’m the best at who we are, that’s fucking food for thought
Nobody else been thinking like me thus far though
Subpar cerebrals

[Interlude: C. Delores Tucker]
For 400 years, profit came before principle. We marched for our right to at Selma, I was there with Dr. King. Music that glorifies and promotes violence with guns, knives, or drugs and that includes all this gangsta rap, that’s it. We march again and we’re gonna keep on marching

[Verse 2]
I make your mouthpiece obese like Della Reese
While I’m flipping pies like Patti LaBelle, Sara Lee
Eating all the bark with Gargamel off of the cherry tree
King of the dark art, all is pale compared to me
Let the hail from the evil word flip hath fury
While hip-hop stay colorful fruity like RiFF RaFF jewelry
I enter into a different intuitiveness on instruments
I just whiplash new beats
You just the next wave to catch a crazy catchphrase
I’m just a neck brace to the next crazy contestant who should step to me, neck pain
Tell paparazzi I’m charging sales tax to media
In order to picture these digits, press will have to capture Loch Ness
On the back of a hellcat or capture a meteor
Me, I left from the frying pan like the Devil’s last ingredient
While Jesus wept I made boss music flunkies relate to
Better each time I came through like I held back the previous
Look, I’m the real thing
These niggas just here to provide dangerous detail
If any of y’all MCM’s is any flyer than me there
These niggas listen to sign language, probably speak braille
Me, I’m just about to stick my dick in the dirt
Either that or a model, these Ether raps are the Bible
I’m gon’ relapse for a bottle or be in the absence of Godot
Relax for a throttle
One of the last living rap forefathers who wouldn’t ask for a dollar
My style lethal ferocious
Streaming out your club when your single drop
Like a single drop of blood off the beak of a vulture
Uh, I broke my key off in the car door
Just as I was on my way to score a quarter key off Artmore
I’m an angel at squalor
My threshold for pain goes farther than a marine who’s been ordered to war
So at 3:45, which, by the way, is a quarter a to four
Somebody ask me for change for a dollar
While I spray your ass with four different fours
More layers than 44 sorting [?]
Vocabulary lords sicker than Herbie’s recording thesaurus
The Virgin Mary took a morning-after pill the morning before fornicating the Lord
They gave birth to me 44 days later drinking a 40 at the coroner’s door
Therefore, this is more than just my dormitory
This is the safe place I come to look Benjamin in the face
So when you gon’ end up getting ate like four and four
Icicles is made of blood-boiling water alluring gore
I’m here to combine all three Bar Exams for a fourth
While I shoot the shit as deep as foul goes though, so it’s four to four
While driving a Ford wondering why guys look at me foreign for

[Outro: C. Delores Tucker]
We’re beaten with billy clubs and we’re bitten with dogs unleashed by Bull Carters. We will not tolerate injustice and insults from our worst enemies then, and we sure ain’t gonna accept insults from our youth

Royce Da 5’9″ – Wake Up (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro]
Hello, Hip Hop, what are you doing?
‘Cause nowadays you just all seem ruined
Will you wake up? What are you doing?
Using way too much autotune
Hello, Hip Hop, what are you doing?
What’s some of that corny shit that you been on?
(Wake up)
(Can you wake up?)
Respect the art
I got one question for y’all
(Can you wake up?)

[Verse]
Competitive rap is back in effect
You niggas out here playing bitchball flapping your neck
What in the fuck is wrong with y’all? Get back to respect
Put on a shirt, get back to the six-pack on the steps
And everybody can’t be motherfucking sexy
I just wish niggas would understand that
Man, Instagram just need a dunce button
Now all the rappers got their hands wrapped in a boxing gym
You throw your punches like you ain’t ever punch nothing ever
And on the behalf of all men you making us look bad
I’m sure if we took you to the gun range you couldn’t spray the target, fam
You couldn’t fight your way out a paper bag with Shenaynay from Martin hands
You couldn’t beat my daughter in a game of basketball in a garbage can in the streets
If y’all scared, nigga, call the police
I wonder if they know how soft they all look today
Fuck a drive-by, I just hop out the car and mush a face
They all crooks and snakes, all serpents
All part of the large circus mixed with Cirque du Soleil
They all purpose, clique jumpers, they all ball-jerkers
Ex-mall workers who text wrong
Shit like the K without the O in front
Get off the phone, chump
Your career is like a microwave without the door in front
Liked today, but you ain’t holding none
Your raps are like just okay, but problem is you’re just okay with that
Where the fuck did rap get dislocated at?
I’m just gonna keep spitting ’till this shit’s in place
’till I feel 2008 is back
Fans being way too nice, where all my haters at?
I spit hiatus raps, I’m just that good
I never ride the wave ’cause I’m the water, I’m like the rap Suge
Minus the fade by the barber, and all our thoughts cold
And all y’all thoughts blow, ours is Pearl Harbor
And all my thoughts go in line, they can go inside of a barcode
I got the violent history of Gotti’s polaroid flow, there’s only one way to picture me
Instantly a body
My twin barrells I call Tiara and Tia Mowry
Being shot at is about as likely as seeing y’all on lean and Molly
My mind shuffles thoughts
‘Till hard lines touch the bars
And then I spit it like I’m trying to fill up a couple vaults
People find love and realize that love is love
And they should be the fucking law ’cause love is love even when love is lost
You niggas need to be aggressive again
You niggas at them labels need to come from the back of them desks and find the next nigga with talent
And quit being so skewed by views and streams
Or I’ll come through and pee in your vegan salad

Royce Da 5’9″ – N My Zone / Mask Off (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro: Will Smith]
The separation of talent and skill is one of the greatest misunderstood concepts for people who are trying to excel, who have dreams, that wanna do things. Talent you have naturally. Skill, is only developed by hours and hours and hours of beating on your craft

[Part 1: "Backseat Freestyle" Remix]

[Chorus]
I’ve been killing microphones, killing microphones
I’ve been killing microphones, killing microphones
Nigga, I’ve been killing microphones, killing microphones
Killing microphones, killing microphones

[Verse 1]
I been like the zone
When you talk to me minimize your tone
Take some of that bass out your voice
Don’t go and put your Energizer on
With this beat I’m going all the way
I don’t mean to the end of night, come on
I mean I’mma take it to the grave, untilI end your life it’s on
I’m talking about cracker-jacking these niggas ’till their whole enterprise is gone
I’m talking about clapping at these niggas with some shit that’s gonna feminize you strong
I’m talking about tenderize the bone
I ain’t talking about weird science though
When I say that my ceiling is probably gone
I’m talking about villainizing your home
Nigga, I been in like the zone
I’m looking like Rambo in this bitch
But nigga, I ain’t feeling like Stallone
Feel more like I’m in a heist alone
Look, I don’t like to aim my shit at any artist
When I’m writing I’m just generalizing
How am I gon’ take a shot at something I can’t even fucking identify with?
I’m feeling like the long days away from feeling my Patrón
Used to have the coldest bitches waiting for me chilling by the phone
Used to do donuts on the grass, now I’m just feeling like a drone
‘Cause even though I’m sitting high somewhere I’m still spinning by your home, bitch

[Part 2: "Mask Off" Remix]

[Chorus]
I’ve been killing microphones, bitch, killing microphones, bitch
I’ve been killing microphones, killing microphones
Nigga, I’ve been killing microphones, killing microphones
Killing microphones, killing microphones

[Verse 2]
This a new life, who this?
This a new phone, who this?
I’m in a new zone, who this?
This ain’t no Redbone and who this
I’m sorry, my top is unavailable right now, my roof gone, who this?
Nigga, my taste amazing, my chick look like the waitress from Hooters
And she about to fix me dinner
She independent, but she into niggas that’s big spenders
And I’m into fitting this dick in her
And she into fitness like Brittany Renner
I used to chase the liquor with the Guinness
Move-making, nigga, with the business
With the winners in the bed with two majors
I still wake up feeling independent
I’m a savage, on top of that I’m a reckless product of D&D
Stop critiquing me, my detractors just couldn’t sell a record to the DMV
I’m somebody, ain’t nobody better than
My precise knowledge and intelligence
Well advanced, I swipe a knife across your white collar like a cheddar scam
I put your lights out like Edison
Ain’t nobody out there ready for him
My blood type B positive, your type O like the credits wrong
I’m immune to all medic-on, blue Ferrari head is gone
Went from palladiums to colosseum stadiums, you perform in the Reddit forum
I spot a bitch nigga like Cyclops on Santa Monica
Got a model blowing my mind, my new Monica’s blowing my Monica
The car odometer is on the bottom of all the numbers like you dial star pound
Or put the car around white walls, call ’em Fire Marshals to come and shut the party down
I’m the leader of CMB, doing 52 over speed bumps
In front of your table with TMZ doing interviews while you eat lunch
I deal with mics real Kendrick-like, I’ll kill a mic
Cash rules everything around me until I die
Looking right into the vanilla sky
I’m funny acting "who this?"
You owe me money, run me that or do this
Get a running start, jump into a hole, take a hole in that beluga
I act like them older cats with moola
Dragging motorcycles past the light
With Kodiak on that Patrón, I’m hot and on cognac, I’m cooler
And I’mma show no reaction to your rollie flashing like my zodiac a jeweler
Ain’t nothing but a dead something, I be headhunting, yeah, I’m going for that medulla
Boo-yah, don’t be acting foolish
Baby, this a new phone, you yapping "who this?"
Maybe everything I’m gon’ say from here on then is gon’ be on the behalf of "who this?"
(Hello) This a new life, who this?
I’m on a roll like two dice moving
I’m on a boat in Dubai fooling
On the moped flute-by shooting
I’m an unapologetic work in progress
Product of a hard-working dedicated father with shortcomings
Praying all his sons make it farther
People say that it make you softer to raise a daughter, but it made me harder
Smarter with the way I make dollars just to make sure she stay a baby baller
The way I zone is like the AC on
I play like KC and KG, you can’t even cage me
I be using Windows like I’m on a HP
Just look around, I don’t own a thing that ain’t in HD
I ain’t interested in the crown that don’t belong to Wayne, Shady or Jay Z
That’s a opposite
You don’t like your life, how about death?
You don’t like to fight, how about sex?
You don’t like the kind of car you drive, okay, how about Bow Wow’s jet?
I got the kind of flow that destroy the place though
How about you take your shot at Rihanna like I did when I said "hi"?
Or how about with Soulja Draco?
How about I come through and paint the floor with your whole crew?
How about the coroner come through and tell you go get Maaco
How about I don’t give a fuck about burning bridges?
How about I walk through the fire ’cause I’m hot and I got the golden gate flow?
How about I box?
How about like Argyle
I sock niggas and give ’em disease like a irock
How about I hop out the Maybach and challenge every living emcee?

Royce Da 5’9″ – No Radio (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

Royce is going to fucking kill you

Ha, true motherfuckers know
This be the realest shit I ever wrote
Yeah, up in the studio getting blowed
Truest shit I ever spoke

How can I go from rocking wit Dre, to falling out
Wit Shady, and poping my glock on the block to dropping on Koch!
Mistakes that I’ve made, I’ve learned to regret
Impatiently we blazing them AK’s, to earn the respect
(I) don’ been in the trenches for years, in this rap shit
Where my name is mention is fear, compared to that shit
(I) don’ paid my dues, (I) don’ learned more from my mistakes
Then I learned in any grade in my school
(I) could have made you today, (I) could raise ya brow
On a label that’s foul or made you on radio play
(I) could guide myself, through the game myself
Give you the chills, kill hip hop, and save myself
(I) learned to behave myself, people choose sides when
They figure you die, I learned they take away my wealth
All these niggas that used to page me, everyday that I dealt
But they all gone, y’all wrong, (I) page myself, because

I do this music for me, I take time and put pride in it
This music is me, it’s no ruining me
I’m the truest MC, as hot as you need me to be, as cool as can be
If you was true as me, then this for you, but I do it for
I do this music for me, I take time and put pride in it
This music is me, it’s no ruining me
I’m the truest MC, as hot as you need me to be, as cool as can be
If you was true as me, then this for you, but I do it for me

Every breath I breathe, every second I have
To be in the lab, wit young man, making a track at least
In the basement, rapping in peace, Patiently Waiting
To blow up and grow up, back and away from this rapping beef shit
All of that should cease, cause I feel like quitting
Back to the factory, rap for ME, when I feel like spitting
Go out and kill a clown a day, don’t call me Royce no more
It’s Ryan, I just threw Detroit’s crown away!
It’s only so many times, I could let my temper get tested
I can’t handle it, I’ll eventually get arrested
I’m on the verge of doin some things, that won’t help – shit!
Take myself away from my family, is so selfish
I can’t help shit, lately I been ignoring rules
You taking care of too many people, to go and lose
(I) do my music and speak truly, without the influence of movies
Or these fools in the street, that wanna do me, nigga

True motherfuckers know
This be the realest shit I ever wrote
Yeah, up in the studio getting blowed
Truest shit I ever spoke
Yeah, hopin you true motherfuckers know
This be the realest shit I ever wrote
Yeah, up in the studio getting blowed
Truest shit I ever spoke

Royce Da 5’9″ – Combat (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro]
Then I keep my .40 Glock on me. This has no safety on it, it’s fully loaded, there’s one in the chamber at all times, so that means if I need to, I just aim and squeeze

[Chorus]
Everywhere I go, them niggas know I’m ready for combat
All you ever gonna find in my DNA is combat
Everywhere I go, these niggas know I’m ready for combat
Nothing but violence and rage in my DNA – it’s combat

[Verse 1]
I don’t got comrades
I just ride with the gun, cash, and a good girl that’s gone bad
I don’t have to have a hit, shit could be a bunt
I’m ready for combat
This ain’t really what you want
And I ain’t really fascinated with your ‘Benz price
Fall back and get your car jacked while the engine masturbate the twin pipe
I beat you down
Only time you heard about me backing up is the armoured truck beeping sound
Instead of battle rapping with you, I’d rather speak in rounds
True veteran, Sickening flow you couldn’t do better than
Show up to your crib, dig a six foot hole, introduce you to your new residence
Y’all what all the flash and all the autographs about
Y’all niggas actin’ like broads is all your fault, that Remy Ma the hardest rapper out
Y’all only do music with people ‘cos they hot, so your point is stupid
I just wanna stay the fuck away from you and do a joint or two with Joyner Lucas
Shut the game down
Show you you ain’t shit when I come through
Don’t even flinch at me – I’m James Brown
You ain’t built to fit in that jump suit
I’m super strapped with a rocket launcher – Google that
Lay a hand on me
I’ll spray you and your homie
Have you land on him like Scoob and Scrap
I’m in the streets where the movers at
Y’all industry, y’all industries where the Ubers at
I’m ruthless black like Dr Dre crew
Rae Carruth in a topless grey coupe
Got the K cocked, stay true
The roof is back, get in the car
Never been a star, but I’m blessed
I found a girl who love me almost as much as Peter Rosenberg loves Kendrick Lamar
I’m just tryna be the one who finally make Rihanna faithful
Was I the only one heartbroken when I found out French Montana fucked Sanaa Lathan?
And I promise y’all I’m not a hater; I’m just aggravated
I just want all my hoes who don’t know that they my hoes yet to act their ages
I just want to drive all my hoes crazy like the one that played That’s So Raven
Back to back with me blasting iron, ratchet waving
Caps flying like we had a graduation

[Chorus]
Everywhere I go, them niggas know I’m ready for combat
All you ever gonna find in my DNA is combat
Everywhere I go, these niggas know I’m ready for combat
(5, 4, 3, 2, 1)

[DNA Beat Change]

[Verse 2]
I got real nigga in my DNA
I be killing at will
I’m the illest that live
Fuck a deal, fuck a VMA
I beef, y’all mediate
Y’all PDA, I’m TNA
Soon as one of y’all step by the bar I alleviate
Niggas must want death by tomorrow, if you trying war with me today
Y’all niggas story long, not me; I abbreviate:
I innovate
I’m NBA
Y’all CBA
Gettin’ paid my TV rate
My reality BDP
Evil D, I’m CTJ
Y’all DVD
Y’all reality Stevie J
Y’all trying to box with a nigga that’ll beat your ass, but I’d much rather beat a case

Royce Da 5’9″ – Gov Ball (feat. Westside Gunn & Conway) (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro]
What the fuck’d I do? Diss a whole bunch of pussy-ass rappers?
Well tell one of they pussy ass to link up with me then
These niggas… Y’all think these niggas tough
But I don’t think these niggas real killas
I know what’s goin’ on

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
Ay yo
These rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m back in eight balls
Spilled Perignon on my suede ’cause
I had to tell that bitch, "Don’t touch my Wades!"
Lean by the pool
$3K for the shades
100 round plumb at least five in your brain
When bricks went on sale I was going insane
My shooter said, "Look, you don’t even gotta pay me
I’ma shoot the fuck nigga blocka for the fame"
Still duckin’ my third felony, I’m on skates
Fuck the halfway house, I’d rather wait
Three stands for some noodles and I’m straight
Grizelle is the illest, no debate

[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9" & Westside Gunn & Both]
While all these rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m fuckin’ they broads
Ay yo, these rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m back in eight balls
That nigga had to tell his boo
Don’t trust my ways
Lean by the pool
$3K for the shades
These rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m back in eight balls

[Verse 2: Conway]
Yeah
Get you whacked it only cost a band
Twenty shots, every bullet in that cartridge land
My shooter been buggin’ since niggas off’ed his man
Lil’ dirty nigga, type to piss and don’t wash his hands
Pink Bape hoodie, feel like the Harlem Cam
Niggas rap good about them bricks
But never bought a gram
Flow outta this world
I’m the martian man
Everyy shirt sell out in minutes
Now that’s a market plan, yeah
If I reach it’s for a weapon
Release three in your chest
And in peace you niggas restin’
Leave niggas in sections
Pieces of you left in the street nigga
I’m more than a street nigga, you guessed it
Pussy, I’m never beefin’ on a record
I beat niggas to death
That’ll teach niggas a lesson
Machine nigga
Free all the real niggas locked [?] nigga
One hundred shots in that magazine nigga

[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9" & Westside Gunn & Both]
While all these rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m fuckin’ they broads
Ay yo, these rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m back in eight balls
That nigga had to tell his boo
Don’t trust my ways
Lean by the pool
$3K for the shades
These rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m back in eight balls

[Verse 3: Royce Da 5’9"]
Nickel
We taking all comers
Caking all summer
They playing basketball
We playing take they ball from ’em
I’m in front of the stove wit’ it
Check the score, the Rolex is gold
I’m going old Lexus Hov, sellin’ blow
Thuggin’ for a purpose on my Pac shit
Ugly chain on purpose on my Nas shit
They passing around Moet bottles, but I don’t gossip
All I do is real nigga shit like a
Wiggle and shake to get through my day
And I don’t assume
I just been down and diggin’ my crate
And end up on the moon
Once you hit a nigga in the eye
They gon’ change though
Cause now they know the ribbon in the sky
Ain’t no rainbow
I was born physically conflicted with Christ
Though I’m God sent, I was sent through the light
Though I was meant to only exist in the night
There’s only one of me
I can easily imagine runnin’ rap
But I can’t even fathom rap running me
I guess you ‘spect me to wear dress shoes
And be hangin’ with "Yes" dudes
Or be wearin’ leather chaps with the pants underneath
Lookin’ like half a fag
Bout to have a glass of "flat tummy tea"
Tell your wife chill out with the retweets
And the waist trainers, grab a washcloth
Follow Alicia Keys, make her face plainer
She may just stay saner, I may just pull up in the wraith
Where she play and just David Blaine her

[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9" & Westside Gunn & Both]
While all these rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m fuckin’ they broads
Ay yo, these rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m back in eight balls
That nigga had to tell his boo
Don’t trust my ways
Lean by the pool
$3K for the shades
These rap niggas at the governor ball
I’m back in eight balls

Royce Da 5’9″ – Nickle-9Ne-Alooya (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro: Muhammad Ali]
Never write about me like that
Never make me stick to one, it’ll just make me angry
Never ever make me no underdog
And never talk about who’s gonna stop me!
Ain’t nobody gonna stop me!
Ain’t a heavyweight in the world fast enough to stop me

[Verse]
Yeah, I survived a lot of savage shit
I’ve been vibing like it’s Attica
Bulletproof glass is on my ride, ride around here like the Vatican
I’m an addict, I personify arrogance
I believe you can speak some shit into existence, deleted my 9 to 5 narrative
Now I got a bitch so fine half the time I fuck her, rest the time I just stare at her
Letting the non-believers know I don’t need to go diamond Ryan, it’s forever bruh
I’m a level up from buying stilettos to impress em
Got em blindfolded, tying em up in leather like I’m Edward Scissorhands in some boxing gloves
Hitting it just as if the chick was with the S&M S&M, I ain’t never stressin em y’all are the nervous wrecks
With ya ho fucking me, both hands stroking the pole looking like she tryna roll up a sleeve, I call it the turtleneck
Next, I blow out her back while she sitting vertical on top of dick in a convertible
Call the shit murder the vertebrae then drop her off at the crib with vertigo
I done seen it all, been through it all so you know I know what is what
The smallest part of beef is gon always be all the things you utter bruh
My sense is keen and I got that ivory weighing on the triple beam while I dish a queen
The bitch got the Arsenio Hall from “In Living Color” butt
I got your baby mama hyperactive, piping her while she asking the lord in Michael Blackson accent “Lord, what in the mother fuck?”
My mind is so much more enlightening, who be tryna throw shade? I’m over here just destroying y’all sun
And this is what you call in y’all bag, then I’m in a Goyard trunk
Baby I’m getting cash money, getting the last laugh, the last word too
I’ma need my headstone to say “y’all finished or y’all done?”
Bar Exam 4 y’all, the there is no competition edition
No features, nobody scratching on it, this the I just been itchin’ edition
Ballin’ like I’m in the A-Town with Terio in the bleachers
Y’all are karaoking with Dirty Harry, tearing your stereo into pieces
Y’all need to take a soul searching class
The Slaughterhouse album I’d like to drop it, the New Edition biopic came out and now Joe wanna be Bobby so fucking bad
I’m just joking with my good friend, I’m just so in my happy place
I just know from my head to my toe I’m the greatest, y’all can keep ya ho and ya accolades
Dr. Dre taught me to not oversaturate before he offered me a deal
Right before I got another offer for a dollar amount you know that I had to take
And now that all of that shit is clearly behind us, y’all really expect me to regret being 19 and going and getting a million dollars?
Nigga fuck you, that’s a million dollars, still a million dollars
Nigga that’s 20 million nickels, that equals 20 bitches and an island
Now you’re talking unlimited dimes, and a hundred million pennies
Now do I wanna pitch it down? Hell yeah nigga that’s a million dollars
Now can you get the fuck over it? Please, consider respecting me, I’m willing to fucking pistol bust over it
As a kid I used to just be looking pitiful
A lot of my courses were difficult, so of course the teacher would tell me I ain’t bout to be too much more than just a custodian
And that gave me a complex I’m still stricken with I call the shit the Napoleon
When I walk in the kitchen now I want the ho to kiss the toe and lick the linoleum
All my old bitches before you slit your wrists if you can’t stomach it get some Imodium
Gassin’ bitches and spittin’ petroleum
The only actual difference between me and the Holy Spirit is the Trinity and the podium
Nickel Hallelujah
Nickel-9ne-Alooya
Nickel-9ne-Alooya
Hallelujah nigga Hallelujah
Nickel-9ne-Alooya

Royce Da 5’9″ – Chopping Block (feat. Slaughterhouse) (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5’9”]
Rap niggas back on the chopping block
Come out that house, back to yo mom and yo papa spot
Back to the county, back to three hots in a hostel cot
Come out the colossal rocks back to your fossil watch
My life is foul sometimes I wish I could write this down
To keep your wife from screaming out Jesus Christ she can bite the towel
She receiving pipe from the nicest, my mic is Riker’s Isle
My mind deep as minin’ for diamonds, I raise MacGyver brow
I’m five minutes from perfect timing I’m like the price is down
A highroller, Cairo’ed like I’m Chyna and Tyga child
Mighta fucked one of you silver medalists wifey but
I can’t fight you cause, you might adjust my Midas touch
I can’t believe I just sat back and told that lie
I put this Tec back and give you a gold black eye, blaow
If I give a nigga a shiner consider the shit designer
I slaughter militant rhymers, hold up
My nigga Nottz on the beat
Somethin’ sneakerheads usually leave in the box on the feet, hold up
That’s right, rappers back on the chopping block
Either fact is a Papa Doc’s, back to your proper spot
We are not friends, we just connected dot to dot
Stomp you till you feel like you living in Waka Flocka’s sock
I could box, that’s why niggas opt to not
Money wide in my pocket mocking that Hasim Rahman knot
I philosophize, social stylist, them shits so timeless
This should be fossilized
Y’all just lie, y’all just falsify, y’all should be ostracized
Y’all should not be allowed to run alongside my whip with the ostrich eye
Come out your house without your pride
A coward dies a thousand deaths, tells a thousand lies
You see them lames? Tell ’em that I’m contracted
A killer on a powder high, Game 7, Lebron clapping, I’ll have your
Spinal column out of your body right by you and your bodyguard looking like lasagna and cottage fries
Retire or apologize, or die, you looking right in the fire
Tryna be hot as me or tryna see eye to eye
Obviously, honesty’s not your policy

[Verse 2: Joell Ortiz]
I’m two seconds from smacking somebody face hard as hell
And I know that he listening
But the way shorty neck is positioning
While she spitting in the hole of my dick
Makes that other pussy not worth it
I put my foot in yo’ ass with all my old verses
Its like my sole purpose is giving my soul’s purpose
I don’t start but I finish you with a earth nap
E’rbody I turned into ashes, believe they earned that
Skip rap, let’s talk real people
To this day I die laughing with niggas who really kill people
Mask, gloves, and empties that would conceal diesel
Black snub that empty until they seal-freeze you
Dice game with the re-up
In lobbies where they never mopped the pee up
Turn that M.O.P. up
Every night mom’s praying that they ain’t mopping me up
I’m up top getting mop from Mia, mama mia
Now as far as the bars varying, I’m barbarian
He-Man, Hanna-Barbera action figure
Arms stiffer than Shawn Marion when he ball-carrying
Oh man, we in slaughter mode, Paul Rosenberg, pallbearers and Em
Who’d be left if the social media era died?
Shit, I blew checks before I was verified
I know the Dre that did beef before the Dre that did beats
Bloggers’ll beat on my meat if Detox leak

[Verse 3: KXNG CROOKED]
Rap niggas back on the chopping block
Kill ’em before they body rot
I use they bodyparts to paint a Basquiat
Really I’m saving you, your label’s raping you
Transforming your anus like an Autobot
Assfucking a Cosmonaut
You prolly like it but keeping it lowkey, bottom lock
You hit rock bottom and go get your bottom rocked
I’m just tryna stop you like my father was tryna stop me
Then his condom popped
Crooked was born to defeat the odds a lot
I really don’t understand why these imposters are popular
I’m confused like seeing my Jewish homie rocking a swastika
During Hanukkah ‘stead of rocking his Yamaka
While Stevie Wonder gawking at Rihanna’s exotic, erotic body through the wrong side of some top dollar binoculars
It’s obvious, somebody gotta be mocking us
None given, I’m out of fucks, uh
I been on another level since I came into the industry
Still the illest spitting, getting rid of powder puffs
You coward are out of luck, you Howards know how to duck
40 caliber loud as fuck, for now it’s tucked
What? Rap niggas back on the chopping block
Give this bitch the biz, Markie, I beatbox a lot
She just want a confidant, her man want a problem? Stop
His days’ll be numbered like a calendar, that’s the caveat
Any given Thursday you gon’ get with the church play
Holy organs, I mean it in the worst way
With the llama I’m a farmer, I’m outstanding in my field
My skill is a dead giveaway if you will, now that’s wordplay
I’m from the era of gang culture and crack smoke
I rap dope ’cause that was an escape for poor black folk
2Pac told us all America eats is babies
Since I been in a Mercedes my ladies relate to that quote
Upset, veins popping out of her neck, she give me mad throat
She a head doctor minus the lab coat
And when it come to being an incredible spitter, my nigga
I’m Eminem’s negative picture, black GOAT
I’m nice, cuz

[Verse 4: Joe Budden]
Yeah, rap niggas back on the chopping block
Same goal when niggas was bumping Scott LaRock
Same goal though niggas swear you shocking, jock
Screaming "What’s popping Ak’?" Red bean, cocking shots
With that said, no proceeding, gimme lethal
And it could be onsight before a nigga even see you
That’s ride by, dash off and we laugh
I changed up for the future, my mask was off in the past
I heard your album, all sound like filler to me
That’s why I’m asking how they iller than me?
It’s getting hot, you can feel the degrees
I been as real as could be
Different me, same song, Bryson Tiller agrees
Who you know is an uncharted team parted with lean
And hit parks and bargain a dream and step to the Carter regime
And wash Carhartt jeans, hard as it seem
Was all part of going bored to some bars to barking
Beg for your pardoning, your bothersome bar schemes
Matter fact, who the fuck you know is harder than him?
Say the gang broke up, shit, it wasn’t the gang
Fuck a verse, when it’s family it just run in your veins
Joey

[Outro: Joe Budden]
[?]
Nickle
Happy to be back guys
Crook
Joell

Royce Da 5’9″ – Line In The Sand (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro]
My nigga King Los just tweeted out he the best
Cyhi know he the best?
My nigga Ab-Soul say he the best
And even though I think these guys are three of the freshest, ever
I look at opinions like I look at lickin’ an asshole, I respectfully disagree with that

[Refrain]
Bar Exam, where is the competition?
Bar Exam, where is the competition?
Bar Exam, where is the competition?
There is no competition

[Verse]
I like guns more, you the type to knife
I’m more the candy paint type, you more the Mike and Ike
I’m from the ‘Mo, I’m more the type to drive the Ghost tonight like I’m the Poltergeist
Embracin’ crime like I’m supposed to die
The face of crime, like I’m the closing eye’s poster guy
I’m more the type to hold the door, I’m nice
Call me "so polite", dawg you Molson Ice
Prototype of pulverizing mics, avoid life’s
Rollercoaster ride through polarizing alcoholic lows and highs
I’m more the type to go incite the riot
Throw hollows and watch them go in your body as though they got invited
Not of this Earth trying to be godly of death cause I was Gotti at birth
Might as well write a lot of these verses while I’m inside of a hearse
Take your broad, show her more than just a front door and call that shit Lurch
Prolly gonna be the first artist to add a body to his body of work
My discography just like a map to rapper body bags
Now process that, I might just drop a track where Jim Hoffa at

My nigga King Los just tweeted out he the best
Cyhi know he the best?
My nigga Ab-Soul say he the best
And even though I think these guys are three of the freshest, ever
I look at opinions like I look at lickin’ an asshole, I respectfully disagree with that

We can agree to disagree, we can leave it at that, or we can bet
Even if smack ain’t got the fee correct
Any supposedly ill rapper can get it for free
Feared, revered rappers, Lupe Fiasco, tweet or text
Hand on the Desert Eagle squeezing the reapers neck
We can go for broke til things get repossessed
We can flow for keeps, go til either one of us slumped over the speaker dead
You takin a decease in that, I’m hoping to be the next
Greatest of all time, while these hard lines shake up the web
You facin’ an ethernet
And no this ain’t no Kendrick Control move
This just a flow that never gets old, Malinda Williams in Soul Food
How could you Violate somebody who got Chris Lighty wisdom, who never bluff
Them twin rifles is coming out looking like Blue Ivy siblings, better trust
Everything on your mind that be on your lap like private dancers trappin
I’ll put three in your cap, it’s not a good time to try and chance the rapper
Nah, I’m old school, still trying to dance with Patra
Hoes finding Vanity from The Last Dragon tryin’ to romance the master
You need to hire a yes man to talk you off your competitve edge
My foot on the ledge tripping on all these woulda been, coulda been, shoulda been terrace(?)
Nobody round this bitch is better than me
You the competition? Only props I’ll give is you bout good as dead
I don’t do memes and bickering, I see you out swing for the fences
I don’t like coonin’ unless you Mary Blige singing for chicken
Y’all hopeless, every time y’all spit it I just envision lies
The gods focus, I ball doper than Lamar Odom already wishin’ a nigga would
Like Charles Oakley, in the Wizard of Oz
My niggas got they rags and sticks in the sky, like they hitchin’ a ride
Uh, I’m sitting here counting this grip cuz I be standing for change
This bigger than any kind of redemption this is Andy Dufresne
The flyest nigga livin’ reside inside the land of the fame
Birthday instead of cake, I keep a pie lit like I’m landin’ a plane
Bar Exam 4, this is the "There is No Competition Edition", my nigga
Bar Exam 4, this is the "There is No Competition Edition", my nigga
Bar Exam 4, this is the "Where is the Competition Edition", my nigga
Bar Exam 4, this is the "Where in the Fuck is the Competition", nigga

Royce Da 5’9″ – Play My Music (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro]
I gotta move accordingly to how the music move
It’s gon’ predict my whole day

[Verse]
I said, I got that C. Lo plan, got that Migos plan
Got that mass appeal, that’s that Primo plan
That Panamera tighty-white, that’s that Speedo plan
Hope it ain’t your time to die tonight, that’s that sweeto man
Prayin’ for my downfall, that’s that evil plan
That’s that Michael Jackson plan, that’s that Beat It fam
Since he’s never one to pull up on me, that’s that traffic jam
Red dot on a nigga head, that’s that Pakistan
Tell your bitch to shut a bitch, she do it, that’s that slapper plan
Bought that Paul McCartney and Ferrari’s plan
While I’m saying sorry and tryna get her back
I had gorillas see you with bananas, that Safari plan
Y’all just popped a molly, prolly popped a Xan’
I just popped a band-aid off the bands, that’s that doctor plan
The static from that vinyl, that’s that needle plan
That’s my video on Vevo, that’s that kilogram
My bitch be actin’ like she tryna kill a nigga in the sack like Dominic Leru my nigga, that’s that Creole fam
That’s that C.O. man, that’s my P.O., damn
Shit just might get greezy for them Jacksons, that’s that Tito, blam
44 pop right out of the compartment like I’m Robocop
I blow the locks right off your apartment though like it’s your total shop
Unloadin’ loaded Glocks, patrollers rollin’ by
You throw the dice, you rollin’ though, you hot, or broke and old, you not
That’s that Jay-Z plan, that HOV plan
Classics don’t retire, let that Kobe play
Any man who disrespect me any kind of way gon’ catch it every kind of way, that’s that OBJ
Now I’m definitely buying recklessly in front the FED’s and IRS’s nigga, that h-o-t way
That’s that Stevie plan, that’s that Beatles plan
That’s my children’s hand, that’s my hero man
Other children’s hand, that’s my car they hero land
That’s that UFO, that’s that take me to your leader man
Everyday I’m makin’ change at the park when I go meet my man for that ticket, that’s that meter man
Imposter snakes on hand, watch you shake your hand
While I got that [drakeo pram, got that dako pram?]
That shit there don’t even match, that’s that faithful fan
I ain’t play that big today, ’cause that faith was playin’
That’s that prisoner’s plan, that’s that princester’s plan
That shit Detroit radio be playin’, that’s that insta-jam
Flossin’ ain’t the same, that’s that dental plan
Classic gypsy band, that’s that Hendrix plan
Couple people had to keep the mad at this is man ’cause he keeps begging me to drink again, that drag you with me plan
Baddest night is playin’, I’m glad this night is playin’
Somebody got to die tonight, I’m [sippin’ tonics?], fam
Manicure my hands, that’s that polish man
Had to throw my hands, that’s that wylin’ man
Dirt all on my hands, blood all on my hands
Murder, it never show my hands, that’s psychotic man
That’s that Ricky Rose plan, that’s them OJ’s plan
While I fuck my bitch in Calabasas, that’s that 4 AM
She was just a virgin when we met, so I murdered that shit
And it fit me like a fucking glove, that’s that OJ fam

[Outro]
Made a couple dollars, might’ve copped a jewel or two
I ain’t talkin’ ’bout two different jewels, I got a jeweler fool
I got manuever so they follow what I do and say
I’m serious with all my moves while my music play

Royce Da 5’9″ – Crack Baby Skit (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Skit]
*Static*
What’d you say? What’d you say?
*Static*
It’s better than 2Pac and Biggie, then ain’t got shit on you
(Last time)

[Kodak Black – Profile Interview for XXL Freshman 2016]
"I’m better than 2Pac and Biggie"

*Record Scratch*
Say that again

"I’m better than 2Pac and Biggie"

[Sample: "Queen Bitch" – Lil’ Kim ft. Biggie]
You niggas got some audacity
Uhh!

Royce Da 5’9″ – Beats Keep Callin (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Part 1: "Bad and Boujee" & "FuckWithMeIKnowYouGotIt" Remix]

[Intro]
Whatever, whatever, whatever
Mr. Porter don’t trust you, I’m gon’ bust you, nigga
That thang pop, pop pop
Whatever, whatever, whatever
(If Young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you)
Whatever, whatever

[Verse]
This that "your career’s over" flow, for real
This ain’t four-wheelin’, roll with coke, heroin, ‘caine
Bone chilling, cold with no feelings
Bangin dope-dealin-Hov and No-Ceilings Wayne
Started out like Nas, shoot gun, heavy is the head with the crown
Slaughterhouse, my mind’s two tons, hardest out like John Q’s son
And everything you say greasy and made up like a piece of cheesesteak
And everything I say come natural, in this thing of beauty, like Alicia Keys face
How can I be hated in the streets, when I’m on even on my off day
I’m creative when it’s beef, while you throw salt, I’m your baby mama and them new salt bae
I’ll assault they a la carte tray
Molotov through your restaurant window
Mr. Hyde, Dr. Jekyll, Nickel Nine, Ricky Grimes
I’m Sylvester Mindbender
I spark fours, that’ll arch floors
That’ll have whoever acting hardcore
Doing parkour, I’ma dog Porter
Brought the dog for, recording harsh thoughts for the art form
Taking me to your leader is like showing Chuck Norris where a glass door is
While I’m just tryna stay outta jail
Last war I stay strapped for it
Y’all can run while the gats blowing
And if I miss your ass, then I guess you saved by the bell, like Zack Morris
I’m on bando time when I ride through cities
Before my time R.I.P. Bobby Krissy
Or Bobby, Whitney, flow K-Ci, JoJo
Let the Tech N9ne go KC, MO., bro
I don’t stand my ground, I just demolish niggas
Simple you against me you ain’t ridin’ with me
Bitch not only do I kiss and tell, I’m Orlando Brown when I describe them titties
I’m the rubberband man, but I do more than count bands
Fuck sipping 40 ounces, I’m sober out here, fucking hoes like 40 oz Van
Nigga I’m Pusha T doing quiet numbers, getting silent money, I’ll retire from it, I don’t dress loud, I throw the flyness on it
Let the labels talk and Desiigner mumble like Donald Trump
Throwing money hitting everybody and they auntie up
Trying to find someone to come perform for me ‘fore I fuck the whole entire country up
I’m the first one gunnin’, last one runnin’
Too enlightened for a check (yeah)
Any rapper that want it, I’m Wack 100
Invite ’em to a scrap (yeah)
I narrow down shit the Farrakhan way
You can find me anywhere the crime wave
I’m Schwarzenegger, you Sarah Conner
And your favorite rapper act like Eric Andre
Ryan’s still alive, played nice ’cause the drama still flies
Even when you shoot your lil uzi vertical in broad day
Like you still tryna kill God
I’m French kissing with a "bitch you" mentality
Voodoo and como talle vous
While I’m hula hoopin’ dollars for that snarly tooth
My future look like juju in a body suit
When you niggas gon’ admit it?
That I’m better than the youngins, that I’m better than the legends
Never did I dumb it down or did I settle
I’m Rick the Ruler in every different measure
I ain’t just the R, I’m every different letter
I can give your chick eleven inches if she let me get the leverage
I can be president of hip-hop which is let me switch endeavors
And I’m just having an open workout in Heaven, tryna get me a good sweat
I’m Jae Millz looking up at the sky like, "Ayo B.I.G, am I good yet?"

[Part 2: "Lockjaw" Remix]

[Interlude]
When you a fiend for the rhythm and the beats just keep callin’ ya
They keep callin’ ya
They keep callin’ ya

[Chorus]
When it’s hard to understand me ’cause my jaws keeps lockin’
My parents keep callin’, the Lord keeps watchin’
I’m standing on the corner with my boys, beat boxin’
And anywhere I go, all of these whores be jockin’

[Verse 1]
The dogs keep barkin’ at the top dog
They already lost it, nigga, it’s a lost cause
I remember when I had to pawn all my jewelry
Was so embarrassed by the help that no one offered to me
Zoning off the bottle, we only taught to fight back
We only talk survival, walking home, we just might scrap
All we did was write raps, tryna get so drunk
Had to get my sight back, product of the old gun
Made some bad decisions so early on in the process
I had people out to get me, my album wasn’t even out yet
I’m talking ’bout the self-proclaimed "King of Detroit"
I seen some people reaching they dreams, some people destroyed
I seen people die at the hands of the violence of man
Seen people shot out the sky, being fly as they can
Seen ’em split the pie up and Pam sniff her entire two grams
Slipping, now we in your crib to tie up your fam
‘Cause it’s hard to really focus when you’re tryna stack for ya
Lawyers, with those in power tryna blackball ya
It’s hard to find employers like accountants that’s loyal
With those who told ya they adore tryna back-door ya
You ain’t on-point though, one minute, you popping trunks
Next minute, you happy man, next minute, you sloppy drunk
Every January 1st, the ball keeps droppin’
And I’m just celebrating it at the mall, we shoppin’
Celebrating friendships, "Bro" this, "Cuz" that
"Fam" this, borrow that, loyal this, trust that
Comas after comas that were alcohol induced
If I ain’t wake up from ’em, I won’t ask what y’all would do

[Chorus]
When it’s hard to understand me ’cause my jaws keeps lockin’
My parents keep callin’, the Lord keeps watchin’
I’m standing on the corner with my boys, beat boxin’
And anywhere I go, all of these whores be jockin’

[Refrain]
I had to bite down, bite down
A nigga had to bite down, bite down
All I could do was bite down, bite down, down
Bite down, bite down, I had to

[Verse 2]
Hundred yard dash through the hood, talking money runs
Using that money counter, getting rid of them funny ones
You know the ones, too wrinkled to go in them slot machines
Throw ’em on the titty bar floor to lower a thot esteem
You could be the hottest thing and still have the wrong team
Sometimes to see the bigger picture, you need a wider screen
I got the arm out the black beatle, beating the drum
Mannequin challenging whole families, viva la drunk
It’s Nickel Season, the fever’s begun
I’m savage, even though my tat issa knife, I’m keeping a gun
Loaded cartridges, stolen cars with the Lowenharts
Rip the game apart and you are not worthy like Wayne & Garth
By now, my life’s so righteous, I don’t even sleep with groupies
I move like that nigga Spike Lee when he was Mookie
Back in high school, I really clowned
I said I’d do the right thing if Rosie let me ice cube them titties now
But this is realer than movie depictions
What you niggas know ’bout making a move in a beef and truly committin’?
It ain’t no squashing it after you push a certain button
Make sure everything under your lip cut and your shirt is tucked in
Burning your beard away with Magic Shave
COs frisking your pregnant bitch, turning your kids away, thataway
That’ll in a shallow grave, casualty of a cabaret
Daughter calling some wack nigga "daddy" at movie matinees
Even when we deal with Saturdays, my children still know that
I don’t want another man’s cheap-ass ways on my doormat
And anything I do from legal to illegal
I do this shit the ski mask way, like I’m Lil Kodak

[Outro]
When you a fiend for the rhythm and the beats just keep callin’ ya
They keep callin’ ya
They keep callin’ ya

Royce Da 5’9″ – Wait A Minute (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Verse]
Wait, wait, wait a minute
Wait a goddamn minute
Wait, wait, wait a minute
Wait one fucking minute
I’m looking at your year end list
You’re choosing rappers you’re friends with
Who be rapping what their friends did
Toolie ratchets and extensions
Wait, wait, wait a minute
We done already heard their best shit
We already got the message
They on a lean, molly, Percocet trip
Think I found what real success is
Running around here since "The Message"
Forty pounder full of death wish
Money counter full of blessings
I sent a cannonball right at the cannon barrel
Through your wall, closet, through your damn apparel
Through your grandma chair, through your granite counter
Topping, I ain’t tryna stop it ’till you standing on the doorstep
Of the man upstairs, nigga, you’re next
Wait a minute, nigga
I’ve been going crazy on these records way before Flex
This the bad half Shady vortex, armed in navy warfare
Y’all them Barnum Bailey boys
Best to back the fuck up or get smacked the fuck up eighty million different ways
If I say it’s fuck the world then the world’s getting fucked
Eighty million different ways
When I’m finished with it
Then the world’s gon get the AIDS like some 1984 sex
This the traumatize your favorite rapper year
This the homicide related racketeer
All I’m tryna hear today is trap and drill
It’s all downhill from here like Jack and Jill
Wait, wait, wait, wait a minute
Wait a motherfucking minute
I’m giving all my hoes an ultimatum, she my mascot
I’m just tryna motivate her, I’m just popping shit
She just getting ass shot
Like a Soulja Boy home invader
I get a whole clip to all my haters
Just so I could go and get exonerated
Wait, wait, wait a minute
Wait a motherfucking minute
I watch you niggas go tool up
I’m Compton menace on school bus
It’s documented, boy, prove what?
Been dropping gems since I grew up
I got to feel this void move, bruh
The target’s been destroyed, boo ya
These nerds rapping for attention
For a word from Vlad or Akademik
Prefer to slap you over engine
I’m Murs rapping for the Guinness
Wait, wait, wait a minute
I know you heard I’m back in business
I’m going harder than Tha Carter X
I’m birds flapping independent
I’m tycooning through the pressure
I’m typhooning through this weather
I might do a nigga beat for ’em
Give him back to him a little PHresher
Got the cash holding on line two, brink trucks noise on one
Casanova with the rifle, fuckboy, don’t run
I’m live from it with the streams
Buying guns and getting beams
You guys coming with your teams
It’s feeling like iFunny with the memes
I flip the blade like "say something"
Around dough like Rajon
Let you rip the stage
Then I come and rip the stage down more like Trey Songz
Category slaughter gang shit
Feel me, nigga, this is God hustle
Phantom or the ‘Vette, Tammy Lahren, Charlamagne shit
The odd couple
Wait, wait, wait a minute
I’m prime away from fucking mating with her
I bend her over, stick her on the expensive car
Tyler fucking Creator with it
You a lame, you from Twitter fame
You had a chain, now it’s your nigga chain
Face down on your computer keys sleep
Closest you gon’ be to laying in your name
Body bag after body bag
Leave a trail laying in your lane
I’m Cold Chillin’ on the record business
But I ain’t saying I distribute Kane
Wait a motherfucking minute
You popping molly with the actors
I fucked the baddest of the white bitches
I’m Talib Kweli with the blackness
I’m most def with immigration
Ladies on top of ladies
I’m Mos Def with immigration
Babies on top of babies
Wait a motherfucking minute

Royce Da 5’9″ – Down These Roads (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro 1]
Everybody wanna be a beast
I’m sure it’s time to do what beasts do

[Intro 2]
They can put the trashman on the stand when I’m fighting the charges
I don’t care, I’ll still put your life in the garbage
And I’ma still be righteous regardless
That door that you opening up to friends and fans is likely revolving
They don’t always like to see you evolving
Let’s go

[Verse 1]
Come on down these roads
Where shit can get real thick real quick
I chose this path so I suppose I have to deal with it
And no, this isn’t an encore
It’s more like a presentation by a boy flies a Concord with reservations levitatin’
Demonstratin’ longevity, as he’s never left the sky because he’s never been let down by his own revelation
I left Patrón alone with strong meditation but I’m convinced it’s in my chromosome ’cause my heart’s forever racing
I zone every day but I’m never dated
Even rechrome on every Saturday tints
I’m a culmination of all the reverend hates and the omen, but never Satan
I’m knowin’ heaven’s wait
If you come on down these roads
Down these roads where there’s not a free soul
Quick highs, complete lows
Everything in here is expensive, even cheap clothes
He’s hot, he’s cold
Here we go

[Hook]
‘Round and ’round we go
First they love you
Go
Then they hate you
Go
Then they love you again, and it’s
‘Round and ’round we go
Then they hate you
Go
Then they love you
Go
Then they hate you again

[Verse 2]
Come on down these roads
Where people get real slick real quick
Makin’ millions ain’t even the guarantee
But you will eat so in a sense, this is your meal ticket
Niggas will sit and eat with ya
Leechers and ass and feet-kissers
Trash bitches and sit and wait for you to finish that cheap liquor so she can sleep with ya
But naw, this ain’t back in the day
These bitches these days like to take sneak pictures without asking you straight
Shit, she might even end up leakin’ ’em to the internet
Five minutes before your bride-to-be can pass the bouquet
For that infamous five minutes of fame
It’s crucial timin’ but you decided to
Come on down these roads
But you done signed it
The contract is in black and white
And you might as well try to just make a movie out it
You livin’ inside the house fans built
They might decide to move you out and

[Hook]
‘Round and ’round we go
First they love you
Go
Then they hate you
Go
Then they love you again, and it’s
‘Round and ’round we go
Then they hate you
Go
Then they love you
Go
Then they hate you again

[Verse 3]
Come on down these roads
Where shit can get real lit
Niggas can fly quick as they wheels lift
Over that sound skin that deals in
Over that crowd chant they will sin
Over that ball life, life flashes right before our eyes
Like that check engine, that aura light
You might go fuck a whore and roar, you know I’m right
Your wifey tryna claw and fight for ya
Blowin’ up your phone at 4 at night
She might go fuck your boss bite
That’s if you not the loyal type
That’s if you got the kind of boys who mad ’cause you don’t throw ’em cash
Each time they owe and ask you to go and stashes
If the answer’s no, then you so irrational
You the one who ruined ’em, you shouldn’t have spoiled his ass then
But you don’t wanna hear that one
Come on down these roads
Where by the time that you’ve developed a buzz
You realize that Coke ain’t even a helluva drug
Rick James lied to you ’cause everybody and their mom do it
You might’ve even been high and seen God do it

[Hook]
‘Round and ’round we go
First they love you
Go
Then they hate you
Go
Then they love you again, and it’s
‘Round and ’round we go
Then they hate you
Go
Then they love you
Go
Then they hate you again

Royce Da 5’9″ – Lets Take Them To War (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Part 1: "Moves" Remix]

[Intro]
Yeah
Yeah
808 Mafia

[Bridge]
I’ve been had the moves (been had the moves)
I got the moves since I got my studio (I got my studio)
I got confused (Hella confused)
I can’t figure out for the life of me how I can lose
(how can I lose?)
How I can lose? (how can I lose?)
But I’ve been had moves (I got the moves)

[Verse]
I got I Decided on pre order, my lil homie just went gold
I hock a loogie on a reporter, Detroit is on Pete Rose
That’s Armstrong on steroids, gated up no wing toes
My phones blowing up so much a nigga may end up like Cee-Lo
I bounce back like the fattest ass you can have attached to the fattest hips and anything after this shall be considered cataclysmic
Countin’ packs like a statisician
Emphatic charisma
Savage enigma
I have a religion to handle your rhythm like cannibalism
The camera rollin’ and it’s time to flow
I don’t know
I just go carnival
I’m from Motown you know
I can just line up the hollow tips inside the clip
And I can just go down the road
And knock ’em down like some dominoes
After you already out then I’m dropping some more like you 2Pac and the commandos
Watching my comments like papparazi watching Sasha Obama grow
I got Elijah Mohammed glow
I got the dough these rappers claim they got at the house in my drawer in the envelope
My focus phenomenal
My temperature so hot and cold I broke the thermometer
Guarantee I will kill the flow
This remind me of LaLa Anthony ass in that New Edition movie
Niggas tryin’ to cover it up and make her look old
Guarantee I’mma still steal the show
I been had the moves
I remember these bitches was just a dream
Actresses and models I used to only see on television
Now they be climbin’ out of my television lookin’ at me to get the ring
I remember all I used to be around is dudes that used to try to just kill by me
Choppin’ and conceal bodies
Used to clean up the bloody mess up in front of me
I had to holla at a tube
I had to still deal with that field sobriety
Had to do a double take at the dirty mop when he was finished
Looked like Lil Yachty
Nigga, I went to jail for the whole year
I got out and I did the same thing you wack ass rappers do when y’all got your little show here
I came right out to booze/boo’s
Straight right out the news
Right off the cover of a magazine
Had the magazine with me at the club showing people like "Look at this and please try not to drool"
I fuck a Stacy thick ass for all the days she used to make me work
And Tracy slick ass but not before I fuck April first
Translation I’m bout to fool
Y’all countin’ me out well I got you
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, here I count for you
Biiitch

[Hook]
Last time took an ‘L’, now it’s time to bounce back
(I been had the moves)
I was broke as hell, now it’s time to bounce back
(I got the moves)
Every time I fail I got up and bounced back
(I been had the moves)
And nothing y’all can tell me about that bounce back
[Repeat]

[Part 2: "No Hook" Remix]

[Intro]
I’m doing this cause this what God want me to do
These lyrics is ordained by the Lord
You gon’ get these bars
For free

[Verse]
It’s bad half and finally famous
The weapon’s Iranian
Y’all niggas is Pomeranian
My damie y’all Pootie Tang
Nigga I’m Damien
Shots drop from out of my cranium
My mind is Lebron drainin’ em
Five finger ring titanium
Already in your top 5
Now my dingaling now dangling
I’m flyer than Tom Chambers on the first NBA Live
Double pumping from the three point NBA line
On that war page with that 24 gauge
But when I double pump it I’m prime Chamberlain
Every track on the record got a background message
“We don’t back down ever!”
I’m putting the autobiographical book out with the Book of Ryan
I just let my bitch in LA read, now that sounds epic
My mind carries words
You couldn’t walk a mile in my patent leather Larry Bird black con weapons
I hope you know theres more fish that’s in the sea
I stole ya ho, we been kissing like we been sitting in a tree
And these ho’s in Detroit be trickin’ sooo much
They can completely gooo up a magician’s sleeve
You’re totally awesome
While I pour 40’s on corners for those we lost
My soul suffers from holy exhaustion
Trippin’ on opium just to cope with openin’ coffins
The devil sittin’ close enough to me to quote me an offer
Keep the union in unison like the Soviet’s marching
We goin’ iron for iron like a trophy in golfing
My nigga, better yet, I feel like the only man who can understand me is Sloth from The Goonies
Cause he retarded as fuck, on a boat with a treasure chest
That makes perfectly good sense
That’s exactly how my career went
Like a fuckin’ experiment
I got a lot on my mind that I gotta deal with
First of all, my favorite uncle died and favorite auntie died
I missed both of they funerals fuckin’ around with rappers
So every day and every night my conscience cries
I’m stressed out because my moms be tired, pops be workin’
And Lord knows I done threw enough dollars on the floor in the past for moms to retire
That’s why I be in the lab and my mind be wired
Trying to figure it out fast before my time expires
Man, but it’s this one thing that always on my fucking mind and it haunts me constantly guys
And that’s why in the fuck have I not at least tried to get in between Ashanti’s thighs
I’m feeling like a straight sucker I faced the vibration
My sober, righteous life only got a place for my lady
But maybe I can ask my lady for permission
She can give me a hall pass like Jason Sudeikis
This audio porn I’m giving with a bit of sense
A mind fuck if you will
I’m from Detroit but if I send you to the store with a large bill for some little shit
Bitch, I was born by a river in a little tent
Now I just ride with six vehicles with an ill tint
I’m cut from the kind of cloth that’ll never go outta style
With or without the internet my shit’ll still trend
That’s why I’m still standing with everything I came with
Cool as a Jacuzzi everything in me is built in
Nah, I don’t borrow I’d rather discuss loaning
I’m ready to go to war with whoever the fuck want it
Y’all weigh your respect against your release date
I’m just an artist dog I don’t know how to be fake
I don’t want no problems dog
I don’t wanna be apart of nothing with lies involved
I don’t want no phone that receives a thousand calls
I don’t need to be around a thousand smiling broads
With they hands out
Probably couldn’t survive without em all
But they can’t vouch for who the next sucker

Royce Da 5’9″ – Power (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Chorus]
That fo’-fo’ goes
Anywhere with me I solo stroll
That power
You know when I solo stroll
You know that fo’-fo’ goes
That power

[Verse 1]
Nothing come to sleep as the dreams and regret
Come to a swing of something less than a queen with a catch
Guns and funds and cleaners hoping my cocaina will stretch
I’m blood to the Mexican bilingual who go by "The Gringo"
Who will [?] out the whole scene if you owe and he come to collect
I’m what you call a triple threat
I’m the one writing a rhyme, I’m the one riding
I’m the one rising, I’m the one writing the check
The one with enough respect to make nigga untie ya
Who’s living up under the gun
Who will punch your teeth in the street for bumping yo’ gums
When I’m finished all they can say is I even the odds
So many lows, some of my highs were even goodbyes
Got so much dough I don’t pull out, I just leave it inside
My hat be leaned to the side like Adebisi from Oz
If perhaps there were beef between you and I
You niggas would actually have to sleep in disguise
Fucking with power

[Chorus]
That fo’-fo’ goes
Anywhere with me I solo stroll
That power
You know when I solo stroll
You know that fo’-fo’ goes
That power

[Verse 2]
Pardon me for being too cool for this foolish industry
The cruel, demented things that I’ve seen through imagery
Due to the ghoulish chemistry that the Devil has with the smell of cash
I’m a hustler, I hop in the ocean and sell a whale a splash
I’m so hot I can inhale the hash
I can blow the grass until I’m actually impaling hell with ash
Unhappy people focus on all the shit that’s missing
Happy people just focus on what the hell they have
Uh, Max Julien coats and RAM beepers
Zangief hand gest’ as the man reaches
The transcending a grand ‘legiance
I rap till I ran Venus or land in arenas, [?]
White hood on the Phantom looking like it’s a Klan meeting
And all that hating’ll age a nigga like that Japan region
My fam told me my flow remind ’em of ‘Pac or BIG
I told ’em "I’m just sick, you can’t just go to the doc for this"
Why you out here gossipping? Labels tryna sign me
Despite the fact that I’m strapped like I’m in a zombie apocalypse
Uh, nigga, they can score how they wanna score
I don’t always be on the charts but I stay on the boards
I don’t do beef, I just make you wear the shit out of this two-piece
Whenever I see yo’ ass like Paloma Ford
I don’t care if they find you at the game and you on the floor
You gon’ get this fucking E. Honda, not on your own Accord
Uh, now let’s put this all in perspective here
Me, I’m on the legend tier
You, you on the second tier, you definitely scared
You move like you borrowed the first letter from the word "faggot"
You put effort to put the "F" in "fear"
My pen is potentially grimace the penitentiary
I’m the splitting image of Dempsey
Y’all niggas Ren & Stimpy
Everything about you new niggas is Mickey D’s
Y’all niggas tempt me, but even y’all dudes grimace Mickey

[Chorus]
That fo’-fo’ goes
Anywhere with me I solo stroll
That power
You know when I solo stroll
You know that fo’-fo’ goes
That power

Royce Da 5’9″ – Stay Down (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro: various samples]
I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
Justice League
Clap, clap, clap your hands, everybody
Clap your hands, everybody
Just clap, clap, clap your hands, everybody
Clap your hands, everybody
Clap, clap, clap your hands, everybody

[Verse 1]
I’m at war with the cops, sitting in the trap at 17
Drinking 7Up, I’m gon’ mature with the spot
Young, black, apologetic, unpolished
Bet there’ll never be another one solid
As I am, cuz I am down to put this iron down and go
One on one with anyone who wanna go
Nighty like pajama soldier life
Hut one, show you right, that don’t mean snap the ball
That mean it’s a gat involved, went from packing basketballs
To packing all the pockets in my jacket full with packs of raw
Laughing with the bitches looking at and laughing at the law
Capping with my niggas with the mama jokes
Oh lawdy, yo’ mama rode over a dollar and made four quarters
Get money

[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9" & The Notorious B.I.G. (sample)]
I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
I’m probably knocking at your door, y’all should let us in (do it!)
Mama telling me it’s for my own good
Angel on my shoulder saying don’t do it, Devil said ("do it")
Out all night, I’m out all night
Temptation, I think I’m gon’ (do it)
Out all night, I’m out all night
Temptation, I think I’m gon’ (do it)

[Verse 2]
Streets calling out my name like attendance at the school
That kid, yeah, he bad, I could finish that for you
The Mac-10 and back to Cube, the crack in the baggy, ooh
That’s a group riding past the pastor with the baggy suit
Muslims on the corner with the bag of fruit
Big booty bitches pushing strollers with the attitude
We know why you got an attitude so we not asking you
We just wanna hit it without hearing what the daddy do
Every fly car that ride by is motivation
Every broken home is separated by coalition
Yesterday we played tackle in aisle, formation out today
I’m in the crack house and as I formulate
Get money

[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9" & The Notorious B.I.G. (sample)]
I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
I’m probably knocking at your door, y’all should let us in (do it!)
Mama telling me it’s for my own good
Angel on my shoulder saying don’t do it, Devil said ("do it")
Out all night, I’m out all night
Temptation, I think I’m gon’ (do it)
Out all night, I’m out all night
Temptation, I think I’m gon’ (do it)

[Interlude]
Royce 5’9"
Turning it out
Justice League
Turning it out
Crack crack then I, turning it out
We turning out
Alright, alright

[Chorus: Royce Da 5’9" & The Notorious B.I.G. (sample)]
I wanna tote guns and shoot dice
I’m probably knocking at your door, y’all should let us in (do it!)
Mama telling me it’s for my own good
Angel on my shoulder saying don’t do it, Devil said ("do it")
Out all night, I’m out all night
Temptation, I think I’m gon’ (do it)
Out all night, I’m out all night
Temptation, I think I’m gon’ (do it)

Royce Da 5’9″ – Most Wanted (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro]
Like, what are you supposed to do? Like you put your hands up, you tell ’em that you don’t have a gun. The thing that America is telling our children, and this is the sad part, that black folks if you don’t make me comfortable we will kill you
America’s most wanted, don’t try to apprehend him
America’s most wanted (Ice Cube is back on the set)
Don’t try to apprehend him

[Verse 1]
Yes, the rhythm, the rebel
I’m broadcasting live on behalf of the glisten
That appears in y’all bezel, I’ve risen to level
So large, on my level with B.I.G
I really mean it when I tell you "get on my level", you dig?
Get it however you live
This is for censorship, pick a flow, switch the shit
Alien, rapping at a packed-out stadium
I’m prolly ’bout to sin like I got a late DM
If anybody or they friend try to flow against me
Put some dollars on your pen like an ATM
Every window tinted, every minute look like 8 PM
I’m so hip hop, I shit deluxe boombox
I nut tunes, I spit corrupt moon
Rockshell, toe-top tens, watch the bus zoom by
Listen, if I ain’t on your Mt. Rushmore of top spitters
Nigga, I am not with it, Ryan Rock different
I ain’t ’bout riches, I ain’t Scott Disick
I’m largely blessed, I’m always dressed
I’m not fresh though, I’m Godly, don’t call me less
Listen, chump, I spit it to pyramid, switch the front
The spirit of Egyptian ankhs, call me Neph
Nigga, my every alcoholic breath
Is heavy like imagine tryna carry all this stress
Your floss just preparing y’all for death
So God won’t bury y’all bearing y’all regrets
Carry on, I tote Goyard
My humble approach will boast for y’all
My hoe got more junk in the trunk than most tow yards
And if I don’t know y’all
I’ma turn yo’ voyage to bon voyage to bone lawyers
This one’s for y’all niggas thinking you really big
Tie you up and give you the busy sig
My future wasn’t always just so Truman
To produce checks, I have my little metro booming
Never lose bets when it’s time to shoot death
I am G Money and Nino, I got the goose neck, now who’s next?
Lavar Ball doing battle for my boys
Playing hardball with them crackers like I’m Floyd
You would never know that I’m annoyed, that’s ’cause I’m a poet
Grab a nigga neck and snap it just to add it to my story

Royce Da 5’9″ – Layers (The Bar Exam 4 Album)

[Intro]
Look at you, no pleasure in creative thinking, because you don’t think creatively anymore. The real joy of being a human being is to be able to use your mind in the manner that the Almighty God has designed the human mind to do

[Verse 1: Pusha T]
Tug of war and my mind’s like a clash of the titans
Thoughts contrast so it’s layers to my writin’
God fearin’, but I’m Guy Fisher
Yeah, God hearin’, but I’m gone fishin’
I’m an artist, drug dealer, foreign car keys
Drop jewels so these falcons like the Maltese
Birds in the trunk so these keys, now they homin’
Letters and numbers on the Coupe like it’s Roman
Woo, all black like the omen
Kim said it, yup, BIG wrote it
So I’m feeling like a Greek God when I quote it
Lightyears ahead, but I was caught up in the moment
Moment of clarity, moment of silence
Burner on my waist, yet I’m saying stop the violence
Sitting on that white horse, look at prince valiant
Dad shakes his head cause the worst waste his talents
I philosophize for them Pitchfork scholars
Devil on my shoulder and the pitchfork follows
Poking at my problems, I know how to solve ’em
With a ski mask, automatic or revolver

[Interlude 1]
A slave is one whose power and authority is ruled over by another and whose sphere of freedom is limited according to the wishes of a master. Your power and authority is ruled over by another and your sphere of freedom of activity is governed by the wishes of somebody else

[Verse 2: Royce Da 5’9"]
Them niggas wanna see me runnin’, they know I won’t
They say misery loves company, no, I don’t
Ain’t got no time for you to try on no Manolo Blahniks
All I got time to do is go back in time and pose with the Unabomber
Just so I can go back in time a second time to photobomb it
I live by a code of demonic, Illuminati, Obama, Hovanomics
Hold up, hurdles in life, I hop in a Turbo and roll around ’em
I’m Doug E. Fresh in the flesh, I beat box
I boo-boo-du-du between the sheets to seek the G-Spot
I’m in bed with three naked ladies holding hands
I’m in bed with three major labels
And I ain’t talkin’ ’bout wearing clothing brands
Underground locomotive man
Putting on a global show that no promoter can
I philosophize with wise words from learned lessons
In my world mistakes turns to blessings
The hate turned to destiny
I’m saying Lord Jesus while the Lord’s most gorgeous creatures take turns blessing me
I got your baby momma down on all fours
When drama comin’, I’m all for it
If it ain’t about the money please let this be your last question
You players can jump if you want, but you half-stepping like Paul George
I make the yay invisible in like a day or two
That’s how the players do, my nigga, there’s layers to it

[Interlude 2]
First in science, first in technology, wealthiest country on Earth, most powerful country on Earth is twenty sixth in education. So you have all been taken and you don’t even realize that you have been dumbed to the point where you are like sheep

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Paranoid of poverty, hustle was the philosophy
I seen a kilo, I swear it became a part of me
Lie, cheat and steal, I had it mastered by my teens
Started hands on, a nigga still pulling strings
Hotel suites, straight selling nigga’s dreams
Motel 6 as I let the beeper ring
Was a water boy, but balling always in my genes
Season ticket holder, nigga sitting with the team
Feds on the roof of the spreads in the juice
So suspicious of the cars, tuitions for the schools
Labeled a mastermind, I positioned every move
Shots fired, now the deposition from the crew
Smooth operation, but the money came in knots
Forty million there, I dare you tell me what I’m not
I own fifty homes and wanna get fifty more
Counting this fast money and fucking my bitches slow
Rozay