Motown 25 (feat. Royce da 5'9")

Yeah, I end careers, years, pierce ears, fears with spears

They say I'm gifted, get lifted like the beers in Cheers

Catch a thunderbolt, pockets stay lumped from hundred notes

Stunning quotes make you run your coat while the sun's afloat

Prehaps, my skill is real as G Rap's

And feel as ill as concealing drills in the kneecaps

Your funny style get three snaps in the circle

When off the purple and greens, I'm higher than the jeans on Urkel

Then I murk you, bust TECs, the lead sparking

Now who be my next head target?

I lift up, roll out like the red carpet

Say my name three times in the mirror, and if I hear ya

I'll peer clearer, extend both arms and pull you nearer

Pound for pound, I'm pretty live on the mic

And keep it flooded like Mike on Motown 25

Put your soul on ice and sold it for a whole known price

I'm nice, keep a knot swole on dice

Grin is sarcastic, the way my pen'll spar

Acid on the bar, whether in the crib or the car, blast it

Son is a, prob' rob funds from your publisher

While his dogs put the guns to ya like the Punisher

Or the Terminator, flow is harder than a German major

Midterm in paper, the kid burns the saber

Striking cats, how you want it, gats, spike, or bats?

I know you liking that, I stay sharper than Viking hats

Exhale, blowed mist, serve you with the cold dish

**** vomiting, bowels moving, they can't hold piss

El and Royce, double team, hotter than a cup of steam

Club your spleen and bury you just as deep as a submarine

Flawless, should be that very reason you applaud us

You saw us laying down and launched us, it's raw, it's crawfish

You met your death and although I took away your breath and I ran

I still left with a grand like Theft Auto

Yeah, yeah

You little **** can't touch me, baby

Okay, maybe Jay-Z, or maybe not

Pardon if I sound lazy, I been puffing crazy

Writing puff shit, so motherfucker, fuck you, pay me

Or lay down in your feces, my gun talk, I'm speechless

My pen's that teller, I bends that fella, now peep this

I eat you, then wash you down with who you eat with

Me and Elzhi, yeah, we split

He's sick, I'm sick, I'm sick of how sick he is

He's sick of how sick me is

Me, baby, me, sickest in the D since the Shady LP

I could fuck, that's what ladies tell me

'83, I was fucking, I was six

Head in my mama's daycare, yeah, that was nothing, I'm the shit

Back into my rhyme again, **** call me arrogant

That's because I'm confident, I found it when I found a pen

Three deals later, three meals later, tryna win

About to be signed again, that's right, I'm 'bout to clown again

Knock-knock, who is that? It's the cat that'll snap

Throw cheese in the trap, on your homie, you a rat

Hahaha, I'm back, matter of fact, I never left

Those who say they ain't expect it can't accept it

Haters left this boy no choice but to blow

Fuck another ho from on another pole, fuck a show

Fuck a flow, I'm about getting money fast

While you rapping, so perhaps you hustling sucker slow

Ice glow, sticky green, Bush on sticky team

Capone, look powerful, white boy Ricky Cream

Get him straight, if he lean, fifty fiends in a line

Nickel nine, been around **** you would kneel around

From Milan to Iran, I'm a don, now when I'm around

**** calming down, eating like it's Ramadan