Lyrics Motown 25 - eLZhi, Royce 5'9

Motown 25

I end careers, years, pierce ears fierce with spears
They say I’m gifted, get lifted like the beers in Cheers
Catch a thunder bolt, pockets stay lump from hundred notes
Stunning quotes make you run your coat while the sun’s afloat
Prehaps, my skill is real as G Rap’s, it feel as ill
As concealing drills in the knee caps
Your funny style get three snaps in the circle
When off the purple and greens
I’m higher than the jeans on Urkel, then I murk you
Bust tecs, the lead sparking now who be my next head target
I lift up, roll out, like the red carpet
Say my name three times in the mirror and if I hear you
I’ll appear clearer, extend both arms and pull you nearer
Pound for pound, I’m pretty live on the mic
And keep it flooded like Mike, on Motown 25
Put your soul on ice and sold it for a whole known price
I’m nice, keep a knot swole on dice
Grin is sarcastic, the way my pen’ll spark acid on the bar
Whether in the crib or the car, blast it
Son is a, prob' rob funds from your publisher
While his dogs put his guns to you like the Punisher
Or the Terminator, flow is harder than a German major
Midtermin' paper, the kid burns the saber
Striking cats, how you want it, gats, spike or bats
I know you liking that, I stay sharper than Viking hats
Exhale, blowed mist, served you with a cold dish
Niggas vomiting, bowels moving, they can’t hold piss
EL and Royce, double team, hotter than a cup of steam
Club your spleen and bury you, just as deep as a submarine
Flawless, should be that very reason you applaud us
You saw us laying down a law just as raw as crawfish
You met your death and although, I took away your breath
And I ran, I still left with a grand like Theft Auto
You little niggas can’t touch me, baby
Okay, maybe Jay-Z or maybe not
Pardon if I sound lazy, I’ve been puffing crazy
Writing Puff’s shit, so mothafucka, fuck you, pay me
Or lay down in your feces, my guns talk, I’m speechless
My pen’s that Teller, I bends that fella, now peep this
I eat you and then wash you down with who you eat with
Me and eLZhi, yeah, we split, he’s sick, I’m sick
I’m sick of how sick he is, he’s sick of how sick me is
Me, baby me, sickest in the D, since the Shady LP
I can fuck, that’s what ladies tell me
'83, I was fucking, I was six
Head in my momma’s daycare, yeah, that was nothing, I’m the shit
Back into my rhyme again, niggas call me arrogant
That’s because I’m confident, I found it when I found a pen
Three deals later, three meals later, tryna win
About to be signed again, that’s right, I’m bout to clown again
Knock-knock, who is that?
It’s the cat that’ll snap
Throw cheese in the trap, on your homie, you a rat
Ha-ha-ha, I’m back, matter of fact I’ve never left
Those who say they ain’t expect it, can’t accept it
Haters left this boy no choice but to blow
Fuck another ho from on another pole, fuck a show
Fuck a flow, I’m about getting money fast
While you rapping or perhaps you hustling sucka-slow
Ice glow, sticky green, Bush on sicky team
Capone, put powerful White Boy Ricky cream
Get him straight if he leans, fifty fiends in a line
Nickel Nine, been around, niggas you would kneel around
From Milan to Iran, I’m a don, now when I’m around
Niggas calmin down, eatin like it’s Ramadan