Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Savages, artist - Royce 5'9. Album song Trust The Shooter, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.03.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Heaven Studios
Song language: English
Savages |
I’m barbaric to the fuck tards |
I don’t compare to the subpar |
I’m here to see to it the mourning show |
It’s your funeral for your mom, plus your pa |
I’m on the Russ Parr thus far, to us stars |
This is just us rock, use a nigga guts for the guitars (put it on) |
They getting bodied by an old nigga |
Tell them nigga’s their baby mamas tryin' to roll with us |
I send it back, 'til you mentally raped |
Trying to cut carbs, doing the butt to DeBarge |
Fly nigga mayday, tryna touch Mars |
Tryna get a payday like a nut bar |
Tryna get my own island, fuck cars |
I’m without a bus card, living in demise |
The record label pimpin' him, cause the raps he be givin' 'em |
He can actually deliver them and make a |
Motherfuckin' ribbon in the sky |
I guess I’m just a specimen with the literacy, special ability |
I’m characteristically raised, for everything still paid for |
Embarrassed niggas like Kimbo with the steel cage flow |
No time to take it in, yet, I’m still thankful |
I don’t discriminate, I take it in pesos |
Tryna to close my curtain, I was in Capers |
Now I’m insured by the street, now my stint paid for |
Stickin with the papers |
Sticking to any shit that I say, bro |
This is the Vince Staples |
I clearly only target the bosses |
Whenever we arrive at your office |
I definitely body your authors |
I’m Martin Shkreli, everybody audit the auction |
About it and cautious, a product of losses |
Living modest, dealing with problems |
That the cars in his closet is costing |
Niggas hearts turn into jelly the second that they have to part with their celly |
Live life behind real bars |
They don’t know what it feels like to have a real fight |
At night in the dark with your celly |
Never take advice from the jealous |
Watch your man, even if you got to watch him take an L’ie |
You still gotta stand by him like you Omelly |
The white girl got you bugging out like Liza Minnelli |
My car’s on fire, the tires Pirelli |
I’m Martin and Eddie |
Searching for Taral Hicks |
Not to give her a baby, but to put a life in her belly |
I’m barbaric with the nine and all |
Am I in everybody’s top 5? |
Not at all |
You could find a nigga name in the ladies room |
On a lot of walls, topic of vagina monologues |
I write a lot of bars, that’s why I’m poppin' like an adderall |
I’m duplicated, more than Audemars |
If you could take the beef home with you |
You could make a goat out of ours |
If you can take the bars and the rhymes home you can make a soap out of ours |
These are breaks you had to be casted |
Fatality to flattery flaccid |
You bleed blood, I leak battery acid |
There’s no wrath that you can accurately battle me after |
I’m that great |
After Adam and Eve ate the apple |
I evaporated, came back a cadaver |
You can’t assassinate me |
Name: abracadabra |
Guns is named Latimer |
Got the little kids doing dirty things in the hood for me |
I ain’t talking about the same as the Vatican |
If it ain’t immaculate it ain’t adequate |
I heard your dog switching genders, ain’t that a bitch |
Banana clip on an automatic, take that and split |
This that lyrical, acrobatic, straight savage shit |
Straight savage shit |
Straight savage shit |
Ant Man what’s up |
Let’s go get these niggas |
The whole hip hop game need a rap lift |
Surgery to the trolls and the catfish |
Say my name five times, I’m showing up to your home |
To your computer room and your blow up little mattress |
In the big black whip |
Let your bitch lick my dick sack five times and take her to Saks Fifth |
Everything I say is like an 8th in a transit |
And just waiting to wrap you in plastic for a rapper to come and take it and |
spastically pass away |
She fucking with you |
She definitely could fake an orgasm |
She fucking with me |
She definitely could take a giraffe dick |
And I’m just hustling like I’m at a cabaret |
Straight savage |
Anywhere I’m goin' land is the exit |
If it ain’t lavish |
I’m my own man like Stedman |
I took my life into my own hands same way I take matters |
Listening to Coltrane on average |
With a no name bad bitch |
Took her to my home, laid it down on the table |
In powder same way cocaine gathers |
Oops, I mean pounded her |
You can either get down with us |
Or let the ground come up and get you like Hank Gathers |
Niggas think they’ve seen the things that I’ve seen |
Just cause we on Instagram in the same glasses |
Just cause we in the YSL same jacket |
Doesn’t mean that we’re cut from the same fabric |
What the fuck, is you high as hell? |
You know nothing about the iron in the tire well |
All you know about is the obvious shit |
Like Kanye riffing or what? |
He’ll probably yell |
And I bet you probably one of the old creeps helping Kylie Jenner little body |
sell |
Mermaids, water, good diver skills |
Sandwiches in the Desert with a side of mayo |
Transcriptions in the present got a lot of mail |
Still getting money off the books like Galileo |
I’m in the Panamera listening to Pantera |
The bitch with me, sipping on caberna and |
I keep a narcotic in the car by the teaspoon |
I give her a G-Unit, I hear she a fan of Yayo |
I got to roll with a gat in the back |
I get pulled over and they ask who I am |
Oh, because the accent is black? |
I tell them I’mma poet cause it’s a dead giveaway |
That I’m much more than just a Cat in the Hat |
I be laughing at your guys while laughing at you |
If you ask who I am nigga, I’m laughing at that |
I’m a bullseye for time to laugh and attack |
Kiss my ass and after that I put your ass in the crack |
Speaking of crack rock, my pocket line with that |
You could step on my pocket and break your momma back |
Every weapon of pound I got is Floyd Mayweather |
Doing a movie definitely ready to counter act |
Got your bitch jumping 'round on the boat |
Looking like when flounder flap |
And it ain’t because she found a map |
We savages |
If your bitch with us and you call her and she tell you that she tied up |
She might be literally bound and gagged |
I’m sick, I’m sick and permanent |
Like the doctor opened me up and found a mask |
Close me up, left inside of me an ounce of hash |
I exercise for dumbbells hanging onto the gun rail |
While I’m pressing up piles of cash |