| I fell in love with hip hop…
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| I wanna rap cousin,
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| That’s when he gave me a brick,
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| Told me rap something,
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| Crack something,
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| Act something,
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| Pack something,
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| Stack something,
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| Gat something,
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| Back stuntin,
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| Don’t make me clap something,
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| I tell niggas once…
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| Then I’m back busting,
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| Gats dumping,
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| That’s nothin,
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| Pass me the bag youngin,
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| I beat niggas bloody,
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| Weak niggas swear they…
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| Thugs, till they mugs full of blood,
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| They say J nutty,
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| Whenever rock bottom,
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| I’m on the block wilin',
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| Flock niggas stock pilin',
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| Squads out the drop clownin…
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| On my 7-digit,
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| Bitch youa never get it,
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| Spitting like that…
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| I’m in the kitchen writing raps,
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| With the cheddar sittin,
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| By the glocks and the grabs,
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| And the blocks in seran,
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| Where the bakin soda vision
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| Where the pots and the pans,
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| Rock in a slab,
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| Niggas swear they the shit,
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| Till they rottin in a bag.
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| Mid Verse (royce):
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| You hearin the beat…
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| niggas here with Juan.
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| Cutty Mack… Me… 5'9''…
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| The streets is mines…
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| Ride out!
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| Verse 2 (Royce):
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| I’m in the drop wit the top up wit cash
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| Mashin the pot wit the glock in the stash
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| You boxin you possibly got you a shot in yo ass
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| Dropped in a box in the trash
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| Chopped into pieces… stabbed
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| Wit the top of you leaking…
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| Feet from the opposite half of you reekin,
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| Cops with they badges, keepin my stock up fo cheap,
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| Charges get dropped quick as I could get knocked
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| And I’m back on the streets,
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| The untracable track «mop and the bleach»,
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| It’s a check if he gets on it,
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| Spits on it,
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| Wreckin the next nigga destined to flip on it,
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| For that paper with the dead presidents on 'em,
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| Best flow nigga put yo neck and ya wrist on it,
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| A soldier be rollin fo dough or for dollars,
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| Yo flow to mines is, like a Rover to an Impala
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| Verse 3 (Juan):
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| In a spot in a lab,
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| Killin niggas is something that’s probably what’s had
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| On a block with the mag,
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| On the track spitting mad,
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| Killin whole staffs,
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| Whippin bombs up, choppin the whole car in half,
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| I’m a gangsta nigga,
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| If I can’t carry nigga,
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| Shank a nigga,
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| Make a nigga,
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| Shakin until he,
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| Skatin in a,
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| Ambulance wit the sirens off,
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| With the benz whippin off,
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| Let my little youngins take the tires off,
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| Real hip hop…
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| Snitches get dropped
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| Cocaine… get rock, operations get watched
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| I spit it street cuz it’s in me…
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| I know Death is Certain so i merk a nigga fo he merk me,
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| Niggas act silly,
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| Till you catch this shizzy
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| Put the semi slug in em,
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| Till he shit n pissin' Remi
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| I’mma nut punk
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| Bust pump
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| Snatch trunk
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| Mashed up
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| Smack chumps
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| Look at em like «And What!» |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song No Talent Rappers , by - Royce 5'9. Song from the album M.I.C. Presents, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп