| You’re fuckin with a straight-up menace
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| That’ll run inside your apartment complex and start sprayin tenants
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| I stick bastards for a wealthy scheme
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| Punch through your chest and snatchin out your self-esteem
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| Stabbin your spleen, precise like a javelin team
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| Grabbin the green, quicker than a crack and a fiend
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| Quick draw, faster than it takes you to blink
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| I spit thoughts, faster than it takes you to think
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| You catchin a sink, drownin in whatever you drink
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| I’m huntin you down, bustin at your leather or mink
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| I’m meltin your ice, I’m heated in your average rink
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| Lockin it down, and rockin like I’m trapped in the clink
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| Slappin a freak, trappin every rat or a fink
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| Fast with the ink, blast you out your hat or your link
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| Shatter your teeth, every time you chatter or breathe
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| Unravel your cream, Detroit it’s ether that or the bing
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| Hush, I get madder and mean
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| Matter of fact, all of y’all get splattered in three — pieces
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| Just your body and arms in shirts sleeveless
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| Beggin for Jesus, before your heart collapses and seizes
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| Who needs this, crush the fine line
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| I’ll be on the phone callin my boys and 5'9″
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| Detroit city cats that are born with nine lives
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| And I use that are yours, you better shoot me nine times!
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| + (Royce)
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| Knuckle up! |
| If you see us cop a plea and duck
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| Knuckle up! |
| (When you see us in the streets in a truck)
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| Knuckle up! |
| If you see us droppin B’s in a buck
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| Knuckle up! |
| (When you see us in the D, nigga what!)
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| Uhh uhh. |
| yo yo, yo
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| I done took more bitches off more niggas hands
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| And, more niggas ran from po-po's in a van
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| Stick to my word so I don’t threaten niggas no more
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| If I make you a promise then it’s safe to say that it’s honest
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| My guns, tired from being fired, while yours sit on the shelf
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| I’m like a sole concept in itself
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| Chokin my weapon, burnin your vest
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| In 2G, rap niggas learn from the best and hope to be set
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| Knuckle up — I don’t depend on my toast to spark
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| Wrap my fingers around your neck and let the chokin start
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| I’mma be on top pissin 'til I soak the charts
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| You don’t like me but I’m still here like Rosa Parks
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| A flow is a flow, so — lo and behold the art
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| I listen to you and go, «ehh,» on your dopest part
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| I don’t do these open mics, I tear shows apart
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| Whodie I’m a +Hot Boy+, you get roasted dark
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| First nigga to hit the flow is smart
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| Last nigga that hit the flow you 'bout to see him and his folks depart
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| Bling bling — chain glow in the dark
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| More flooded with mo' ice, cold-blooded with a frozen heart
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| He’s not street smart, he only knows the park
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| But we can share this rap pie long as he knows his part
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| If you was even close to smart, you know I roll with sharks
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| And dogs that bite and only supposed to bark |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Knuckle Up , by - Royce 5'9. Song from the album Build & Destroy, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп