| I am that nigga, it’s obvious
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| These niggas broke, on their pickpocket, watching us
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| They see the watch and this jewelry we rocking
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| Get sick to their stomach, now they try to plot on us
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| They know this extendo we got on us
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| Can’t name a time when it’s not on us
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| Hope they try robbing us
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| So they can go back and tell niggas about all these bullets they got from us
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| I let that blocker on low, I put that pot on the stove, yeah
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| Now these CDs only product I sold
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| Fans in Berlin going out of control, yeah
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| I fuck a lot of new hoes
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| Penthouse on top of the Lowes, Versace my robe
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| What’s in my pocket? |
| A knot I can’t fold
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| Make sure my Gelato is rolled
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| Uh, I am on a whole another level than you, uh
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| My grandma used to say, «Boy, you got the devil in you»
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| Fuck around, get some metal in you
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| My name ring bells, I could sell out whatever venue
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| For us, by us
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| For us, by us
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| For us, by us
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| For us, by us
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| (For you) By us
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| (For you) By us
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| (For you) By us
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| I’m tired of hearing about what all these rappers’ll do
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| First of all, none of y’all can last in the booth
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| I don’t know what’s faster, your wounds turning black or to blue
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| The media, the slap of the shoe
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| Step to a nigga just to step on a nigga
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| Sounds easier to me than counting backwards from two
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| Bring the hood peace, you expect it by the Benzes
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| Shell catch an iron, you ain’t pressured by forensics
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| Half you niggas rhyming transgenic
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| You say they gotta question how you meant it
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| I transcend, forever monumented
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| Not even Netflix could document it
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| My son got autism from injection by syringes
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| These nerds ain’t warriors, we heard the same story and
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| You niggas blowing whistles at Hurricane Dorian
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| Blowing missiles back to the word of vainglorious
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| You sissy
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| Nigga, this is for us, by us
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| Why you put yours up? |
| I put up my cup
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| Survivors of systems meant to divide us
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| You only can afford what you could buy five of
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| You a fool in a war with the faint of hearts
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| I’ll let the two encores take your brain apart
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| I’m at the Louvre on the floor by the hanging art
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| I’m putting numbers on the board like a game of darts
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| Product of every single blood freckled Timberland
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| Buy up every building in the projects to contemporary art deco every tenement
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| My consigliere is marked echo every sentiment
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| Cop a hundred rides, park 'em all in one garage
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| Money on my mind like Rocky thunder thighs
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| Everybody, everybody friends like they from Milan
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| 'Til they in a hole in a line like the number nine
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| Long hours of perfecting this, 9−7 shit
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| Spitting seeds left of shells of pistachios on the keys of the Casios,
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| it’s the evidence
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| Bearing my soul, DiCaprio from The Revenant
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| Phantom looking haunted like a hayride
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| Camera on the trunk like the one from my prayers
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| Amethyst a gun, cummerbund child, they lied
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| Clamp a chick in front, one of one I say I
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| And you know how I do
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| Put the beef behind me to put your soul behind you like De La
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| Twin white Maybachs
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| Steering wheel wood when I’m floating through the hood like sailors
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| Couldn’t be cut like me if you had ten tailors
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| Put the wifey in a black bent Bentayga
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| Judge can’t exonerate, violate
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| Got a mansion by the lake, got a maid, Consuela
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| I was fly even when I was a damn lie
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| I was flying standby 'cause of how I expand mics
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| Triple threat, bitch, I make the track and write
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| The judge can’t give me life, bitch, I am life
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| You a algorithm
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| You niggas everything the culture isn’t
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| I don’t coach the visit
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| I don’t get into the social digits
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| I just smoke distribute
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| Microorganism live in my colloquialisms |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song FUBU , by - Royce 5'9. Song from the album The Allegory, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп