lirik lagu airplanes freestyle – royce da 5’9”
since ’99 i’ve been dope in this
focusin’
unfocusin’
sure as the sun floats and sure as the sun smokin’
i was the gun totingest
my cuz told me
don’t get demoted, keep it close to your digits
you know you get it, you let yourself get too close to them chickens
i said, “i disagree”
then i let superhead lick on me
strokin’ the kitten, the cat stacks
’bout to turn around and write a book about both of them b-tches
next stop, to the top
i done went from a to x,y
almost at z
chillin’ at a rest stop
my new b-tch call her my ps3
you?
your b-tch p-ssy call it my x-box
me i’m the rhyme ruler
me and denaun together
deadly as nas in his prime
you ’bout deadly as a benign tumor
since ’92 been a highly touted r-t-rded truth
prolly ’bout to eli porta-potty somebody booth
never sellin my soul, i’m sellin’ my skills
i’m on raps radar now
elliott wilson
painter of the underground canvas
even though i can’t freelance no more
the underground’s famished
before i settle for less then average
i’ll swallow a watermelon
follow it with a double down sandwich
i swear that god told me
slaughterhouse would be the second time around for me
all eyes on me!
i know i’m not the greatest
i go hard
your boom box is now invaded
bogart
look at me today
8 years ago, i was popular for being hated
solar!
nickel nines the ruler
god combined with buddha
gifted oblongata, prized medulla
each lines like a computer bomb designed by mcgyver
that only can be detonated by a macgruber
i’m thinking if i ain’t binge drinkin’ then i ain’t livin’
somebody told me i’m prolly dyin’, but i ain’t listen
by the time it could harm me i’ll prolly die by a trigger
so i’m only goin’ cold turkey, right after thanksgivin’
i paint pictures between blank scriptures
scriptures, now just how contradictory is it that i pray?
the names royce and i be poppin’ so much p-ssy
dwight howard look at me sideways
and while the b-tches try to grab all on my d-ck
i can’t even get my own n-gg- to rap on my sh-t
you form a clique it should be sacred
i shouldn’t say sh-t
cause the truth hurts
like the b-tch that dre ditched
n-body loves my n-gg-s like me
sober or wasted, for you there’s no replacement
i swear that god told me
slaughterhouse would be the second time around for me
all eyes on me!
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