| Thou shalt not fuck with Detroit me
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| Never owned a coogie, Ford truck, or a pair of them gator Maureys
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| Please hold your applause for these parables and stories
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| Give all praise to Allah, to God be the glory
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| My Papa raised me like I’m a dog with rabies
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| Playin' the hard-to-hard in a dropped Mercedes
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| Ridin' with the chopper daily
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| Pupils dilated like I’m Sada Baby
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| Nozzle on that gun larger than the one on that Gaga lady
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| Play with my time like I’m a playful don
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| My arm comes out the car, my window down like I’m tryna borrow some Grey Poupon
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| First these bitches love it, then they hate it, then they hate to love it
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| I’m straight with publishin', I don’t care if the radio station’s stubborn
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| Y’all hate us busters, I’m David Ruffin
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| It’ll take me nothin' to put your life on a dollar menu right there by the Egg
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| McMuffin
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| While these boys order shots, snortin' rocks, and importin' thots
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| I’m floatin' with 40 knots to the bag, like I’m a border cop
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| Any artist in hip-hop fuck with Nickel stock, sure to drop
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| Especially if he Russel Wilson, good guy, sorta pop
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| You sure to die, pallbearer’s brain flowers, he’s mortified
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| Me and Porter got the same stayin' power that hoarders got
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| Whoever Superman, I got kryptonite in these hands
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| But I’d rather soup-a-man, leave you liquified with these cans
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| I don’t care if you rap niggas is trendin', topic your shit is garbage
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| You couldn’t make a classic out of that trash if you had Brenda drop it
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| You at the rental car spot Enterprise, while I’m enterprisin'
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| I don’t cop my whips without coppin' rims and a body kit and my tint is darkened
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| Closest I’ma probably get to window shoppin'
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| Alright we’re gonna try a new sound
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| Uh, yeah, yeah
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| Alright we’re gonna try a new sound
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| Say goodbye to the good guy
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| I hot boxed on your block and I got the whole hood high
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| You know who all the dead niggas is, they tryna look live
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| Instagram post bank accounts, it wouldn’t look right
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| Your favorite rapper’s sweet, you look up to geeks
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| I wanna flip the world upside down and make all you niggas look up to the
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| streets
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| I don’t believe none of you frail niggas
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| A man should never be described as petite
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| I don’t wait when it’s war, I’m on some now shit
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| Leave your mama prayin' over beef, I halal shit
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| All these foul styles goin' 'round and y’all allow it
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| No skill required, the game’s overcrowded
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| So when a rapper say he can spit now, I doubt it
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| You could listen to Future but just know who the now is
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| I get to share a stage with Nickel Nine, that’s crazy
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| We on tour with Eminem, baby, that’s Shady
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| Room full of naked chicks, surrounded by pussy
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| 'Cause I rap amazin', you at the crib hatin'
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| With your kittens, lookin' like the weird cat lady
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| Trippin' watchin X-vids while I’m with your ex-bitch, 'til I’m restless
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| Don’t want me to send goons to investigate they faux niggas
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| And believe me, it’s hard to find a coffin that’s pretzel shape
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| When goin' to the special place
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| Say an extra grace, black men in America ain’t just slaves
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| Long as the queen don’t need nothin' for a seven
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| While I’m still buildin' credit outta debt
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| I know where I’m headed, I don’t need the reverend
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| Royce gave me access to the lab, I got the key to Heaven |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Thou Shall , by - Royce 5'9. Song from the album The Allegory, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп