Lyrics Royce Da 5’9″ – God Speed

It’s god speed
It’s god…)

Uh, this is just how I zone when Porter spaz, I was born at a quarter past
I was the color purple, Mom and Pop took me home in a Crown Royale bag
Now I’m the hottest nigga that you know with the coldest intentions
Uh, all I know is this flow and this pencil
The Lord is my shepherd, the Devil’s my Doberman Pinscher
The industry said I had to be an alcoholic
Who be havin’ threesomes, be doin’ acid and havin’ seizures
Wish I could go back to my old school and slap the teachers
All I had to do to blow up was an album packed with features
I don’t relate to common folk, they focus on the comments, so
I’m gonna roll a Testarossa down the coast of Monaco
Lo and behold, your honorable
Niggas is sheep, niggas is sleep, ’bout as woke as a dinosaur
My connect’ll give you a whole kilo of coke so he can go Geronimo
He should receive a trophy for bein’ the holy Jesus of flows, he the G.O.A.T
Baaah, that should be my, taaaag
I’m from the streets where the odds are not even
Robbery, thievin’, ballers, debauchery, schemin’
Allah and Jesus, it’s hard to believe I’m a product of Eve in the garden of Eden, speakin’, how targeted we been?
Rihanna stalker, I’m parked in her DMs, shark in the deep end
Put the paws on you, I soften your defense
Hit your pause button, halt your critiquin’
Talk is cheap, the more you niggas talk it, it cheapens
And all I see is prayer ’round the streets today

I’m about a freak away from havin’ Issa Rae eatin’ out LisaRaye
Any artist out that you see is great, tell ’em I said bring his ass
Better bring his A, let his single play
We don’t care what you sing, hit you in the face with the butt of the gun
You leak and get your street cred and a few streams
Pop go the weasel, nigga, Fiva Nina, I’m the illest
You got pop culture fever, nigga
All I know is Big and Pac quotes, pop toast and squeezin’ triggers, speedin’ tickets
Now I’m pullin’ cops over, give them niggas season tickets
Teesha used to shoot me down vicious, now she the missus
She turned me to a family guy quicker than Peter Griffin
I told myself when I was 14 that she the one
Now a nigga probably got more seeds than Peter Gunz
Now I go out to get my groceries in two-seaters
Used to roll the old school, four speakers and two tweeters
Ridin’ with nothing but raw quarterpacks and duffels
Ryan writes heaters
Y’all niggas is cut like one them «Get Rich or Die Tryin'» wife-beaters
Me? I’m just all shoulder straps and muscle
If you a hater, let’s do it, I whip you now and then whip on your boy later
Them whippins’ll go around like a tornado
I get rid of more yayo, I don’t do Rodeo
Or ales, I do the Floyd May-o’s
So many men shopping the women’s section, it ain’t no ladies left These niggas crazy? Yes
They playin’ crazy like the Chappelle sketch, Wayne Brady ep
I’m what you get when Freeway Rick and Cocaine 80’s met
Bringin’ bars back to the streets like Jay and Nas beef
Broadcastin’ «Ether» in HD at God speed