Текст Royce Da 5’9″ – Beats Keep Callin’ (Freestyle)

Whatever, whatever, whatever
Mr. Porter don’t trust you I’m gon’ bust you nigga
That thing Pop, pop pop
Whatever, whatever, whatever

This that ?
over flow for real
This ain’t four-wheel, who ever poke headed
Came bone chilling, cold with no feelings
Banging, dope dealing, Hov with no ceilings, Wayne
Started out like my shoe gun, heavy is the head with the crown
Slaughterhouse my mind’s two tons, heart is out like John Q son
And everything you say greasy and made up like a piece of cheesesteak
And everything I say come natural and a thing of beauty like Alicia Key’s face
How can I be hated in the streets, when I’m on even on my off day
I’m creative when it’s beef, while you throw salt, I’m your baby mama and them new salt bae
?
molotov through your restuarant window
Mr. Hyde, Dr. Jekyll, Nickel Nine, Ricky Grimes
I’m silverster mind bender
I spark fours, that’ll arch floors
That’ll have whoever acting hardcore
Doing parkour, I’m a dog Porter
Brought the dog for, recording harsh thoughts for the art form
Take a meteor and leave this life
Showing Chuck Norris, wearing glass doors
While I’m just tryna stay outta jail
Last war I stay strapped for it
Y’all can run while the gats blowing
And if I miss your ass, then I guess you saved by the bell, like Zack Morris
I’m on bando time when I ride through cities