Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song It's the New, artist - Royce 5'9. Album song Bar Exam 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 15.09.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: MIC, One
Song language: English
It's the New |
This ain’t 'Ye, it’s more like AIDS |
This ain’t James it’s more like a trade and you more like Wade |
And I ain’t playin', I’m more like Cuban |
Not the cigar, Mark; |
introducing… |
(It's the new!) Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
Naw, this ain’t Wayne, it’s more like Pain |
And I ain’t talkin' bout with T-dash in front |
I’m more like needin' rehab for months |
Hock and spew lyrics |
On Dr. Drew’s spirit until he has the mumps |
Drunk, that’s if I can put it in one word |
My niggas that ain’t with all the drinkin', they want herb |
So even though the car plush |
The ashtray full of dark butts |
Like we rollin' up lookin' for Yung Berg |
Top off, bitch in the front, domin' me up 'til my rock soft |
Either that or she gon' get lockjaw |
Stop? |
Naw! |
If she come up for air, I cut her of |
Like Jesse Jackson with a hand on Barack’s balls |
Ahh-aww! |
Nigga, it’s me! |
Jumper movie in the flesh straight from It’ly |
Five series, six series Benzes |
Fuck them little C’s, I’m on some ole Maino shit |
Throw everything at you but the kitchen sink till I plug you |
It’s goin' down, I’m on some ole Draino shit (Oh!) |
I’m the Rich Po, not so, the flow spells gospel |
Book you for a show and turn your hotel to hostel |
(It's an invasion!) This ain’t Luda, it’s more like Shooter |
Better yet, Shot Ya, Pac or Big Poppa? |
(It's the new!) Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
This ain’t Jay, it’s more like sprayed |
The kind that confuse kindness with polite play |
My bitch got two midgets in the bra |
And a nose like a vacuum, she live by the Snow White way |
Fuck Forbes, fuck money till they put some black heads |
In them motherfuckers like they come from pores |
Hip-hop is alive, my nigga, come for yours (Yes!) |
I got the hood open, attached to jumper cords (Yes!) |
Alone in the mirror, rub-a-dub-dub |
I ain’t the game (I ain’t the game) |
Even though I don’t belong in this era (Green Lantern!) |
I’m tryin' to take shit past Nas, Jay, Shady & Dre shit |
Shout out to the Doc, I’m tryin' to find patience (Woo!) |
Lookin' like I’m pacin', like hello, say hello to me |
I elbowed my way into niggas' conversations |
I don’t write rhymes, I commit death threats |
This my new name if you ain’t guessed yet! |
(It's the new!) Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
Yeah! |
(Yes) This ain’t Fif, it’s more like a gift |
A bottle of Cris, on side of a sip or a quality lick (Ahh!) |
I’m the shit, you try to be sick |
I be ridin' with silenced machine guns |
While you be tryna be Tip (Ahh!) |
I’m still hood, I move, minus the bus pass (Yeah) |
Out with the poverty in with the new deluxe pad |
This black nina told me I’m a black leader (Uh-huh) |
That’s why I be preachin' like David Banner |
Minus the mustache (Haha) |
But I ain’t runnin' from nothin' as long as rappers is runnin' |
They receive death from a sentence like capital punishment |
The flows is mean, I make a nigga lean |
Like puttin the word «meth» in between «pro» and «-zine» |
Your bitch sprung right after my dick, go fish |
I leave her numb like a tongue after a coke kiss (Yeah!) |
I’m focused, I spit madness, you niggas is borin' |
You at a level orange with your bitch-ass-ness (How?!) |
Plots is thickenin' and I care about rappers |
Bout as much as I care to see Terrance and Rocski bickerin' |
Watch is sickenin', Glocks specifically hot |
I’m trippin', is you with me or not? |
(It's the new!) Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |
Best rapper alive, best rapper alive |