Lyrics Royce Da 5’9″ – Digest
Text:
Mr. Porter:
See, see God said «Let there be light»
Then he created man who roamed Earth to hunt
Then he created the beast
Royce Da 5’9″:
I bang my weapon, I think grotesque shit before I bless this
Ink on my paper, I R-A-K-I-M with my efforts
I K-R-S it, AK’s my preference, how dare y’all mess with me
Lyrically, I bury y’all best shit, I’m here to carry out y’all death wish
They can’t digest it
Like injecting bloggers with infections
They can’t digest it
They rate my albums, they paint my message
They can’t digest it
Call this Inception, Shawshank Redemption
This is my movie, pardon my special effects
I’m sittin’ in my jacuzzi
Blessings on blessings, one of us eating
One can’t digest shit
I let you pull my chain, I might as well let you come take my necklace
Used to pay out without gettin’ back shit
Now I’m collecting, plugging, connected
But know that definitely ain’t my confession
Block got turned up like Tetris
Got problems I need correcting
I’m out here bird watching, plus I got a Popeye’s obsession
Hot thighs and breasts has guys out right now tryna impress them
Feels like I’m at a drive thru makin’ a final selection
This chick tryna find out who I slept with
Dealing with women with friends
One thing I learned is my lesson
This like Bob Evans, they share sausage but can’t digest it
Mr. Porter:
But then God created the woman
And the woman needed to led by something other than man
So he created the queen
Tiara, get ’em
Tiara:
They can’t digest this
Food for thought cause this flow don’t sit well in your small intestines
You know I grace these tracks
Yo eyes closed, amen, yes I blessed it
They can’t contest it
No competitions, oh no contestants
I’m giving lessons
Eyes on my pupils, yes, class in session
I do this with no effort, no stressing, so no compression
They fuel off my aggression, I kill shit, that’s my profession
You try to come bum my spot, better think twice
Yes, use your discretion
I eat, sleep, breathe my passion for music, this my obsession
Look, hop in the booth and take off
Yep, rocket ship, I’m rockin’ shit
Making this hard to digest
I pass right by you chicks, I buy you chicks
Like I’m Warren Sapp, I fly right by you chicks
You say yo cap is fire, whoo
Well, I’m gon’ light this fire, bitch
Step if you wanna, I’m wreckin’ you up
Talking lots of shit but I’m backin’ you up
Get that ass hit like you backin’ it up
And I’m killin’ the game like the casket is shut
Digest it, they can’t digest it
Caitlyn’s a man but she’s wearin’ dresses
They can’t digest it
Police killing people where there ain’t no justice
They can’t digest it
Paris invaded by all the terrorists
We can’t digest it
Cure for diseases but never get ’em
How they ‘sposed to make money if they ain’t got no one infected?
The world gon’ end real soon, especially if Trump gets elected
Mr. Porter, Tiara:
So, the moral of the story goes
This is plain and dope, this is Bad Half
This is bad dope
Tiara, Royce, Mr. Porter
We can’t digest it
