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Royce Da 5'9

Genres: Hip-Hop

Beats Keep Callin' (freestyle) Lyrics - Royce Da 5'9

PART 1 [Bad And Boujee 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 gonna shoot you) Whatever, whatever 

 

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[Verse] 

This that your career's over flow for real 

This ain't four-wheel, who ever poke headed 

Came bone chilling, cold with no feelings 

Banging, dope dealing, Hov with no ceilings, Wayne 

He said started out light 

Now I shoot guns heavy as the head with the crown 

Slaughterhouse my mind's two tons, heart is out like John Q son 

And everything you say greasy and made up like a piece of cheesesteak 

And everything I say come natural and a thing of beauty like Alicia Key's 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 

[?] molotov through your restuarant window 

Mr. Hyde, Dr. Jekyll, Nickel Nine, Ricky Grimes 

I'm silverster mind bender 

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 the 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, Christie 

Or Bobby, Whitney, flow K-Ci, JoJo 

Like that Tech N9ne go KC, mojo 

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 running 

To enlightened for a check (woo) 

Any rapper that want it, I'm back, one hundred 

Invite 'em to a scrap (woo) 

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 acting Eric Andre 

 

Photos 

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