lirik lagu it’s the new – royce da 5’9”
team invasion
[verse 1:]
this ain’t ‘ye it’s more like aids
this ain’t james it’s more like a trade
and you more like wade
and i ain’t playin’
i’m more like cuban
not the cigar, mark, introduce him
“it’s the new” – [beastie boys]
“best rapper alive” – [jay-z x4]
naw
this ain’t wayne
it’s more like pain
and i ain’t talkin’ bout with t dash in front
i’m more like needin’ rehab for months
hock and spew lyrics on dr. drew’s spirit
until he has the mumps
drunk
that’s if i can put it in one word
my n-gg-s that ain’t with all the drinkin’, they want herb
so even though the car plush
the ashtray full of dark b-tts
like we rollin’ up lookin’ for yung berg
top off
b-tch in the front
domin’ me up
till my rocks off
either that or she gonna get lock jaw
stop naw
if she come up for air
i cut her off like jesse jackson with a hand on barack’s b-lls
awe
n-gg- it’s me
jumper movie in the flesh straight from it-aly
five series, six series benz’s
f-ck them little c’s
i’m on some ole maino sh-t
throw everything at you but the kitchen sink till i plug you
it’s goin’ down
i’m on some ole draino sh-t
i’m the rich po, not so
the flow spells gospel
book you for a show and turn your hotel to hostel/hostile
(it’s an invasion)
this ain’t luda, it’s more like shoota
better yet, (shot ya)
pac or big poppa?
[chorus:]
“it’s the new”
“best rapper alive” [x4]
[verse 2:]
this ain’t jay
it’s more like sprayed
the kind that confuse kindness with polite play
my b-tch got two midgets in the bra
and a nose like a vacuum
she chillin’ the snow white way
f-ck forbes
f-ck money till they put some black heads them motherf-ckers
like they come from pores
hip hop is alive
my n-gg- come for yours
i got the hood open, attached to jumper cords
alone in the mirror
rub a dub dub
i ain’t the game
even though i don’t belong in this era
i’m tryin’ to take sh-t past nas, jay, shady & dre sh-t
shout out to the doc
i’m tryin’ to find patience/patients
lookin’ like i’m pacin’
like h-llo, say h-llo to me
i elbowed my way into n-gg-s conversations
i don’t write rhymes
i commit death threats
this my new name if you ain’t guessed yet!
[chorus]
[verse 3:]
yeah, this ain’t fif
it’s more like a gift
a bottle of cris
on side of a sip or a quality lick
i’m the sh-t
you try to be sick
i be ridin’ with silenced machine guns
while you be tryin’ to be tip
i’m still hood
i move minus the bus p-ss
out with the poverty in with the new deluxe pad
this black nina
told me i’m a black leader
that’s why i be preachin’ like david banner
minus the mustache
but i ain’t runnin’ from nothin’
as long as rappers is runnin’
they receive death from a sentence like capitol punishment
the flows is mean
i make a n-gg- lean
like putting the word “meth”
up in between the words “pro” and “azine”
your b-tch sprung right after my d-ck go fish
i leave her numb like a tongue after a c-ke kiss
i’m focused
i spit madness
you n-gg-s is borin’
you at a level orange with your b-tch–ss-ness
plots is thickenin’
and i care about rappers
bout as much as i care to see terrance and rocski bickerin’
watch is sickenin’
glocks is specifically hot
i’m trippin’
is you with me or not?
[chorus]
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