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Royce Da 5'9

Genres: Hip-Hop

Politics Lyrics - Royce Da 5'9

[Chorus: Cee-Lo, Royce the 5'9"] 

Give me a mountain. Give me a sea 

Put your mind on wonderland, be what you want to be. Wooow 

It's Politics. Ha my nigga 

Politics. Ha my nigga 

Politics. Ha my nigga 

Politics. Ha my nigga 

Politics. Ha my nigga 

Politics. Ha my nigga 

Politics. Ha my nigga 

Politics. Ha my nigga 

 

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[Royce Da 5'9"] 

Seven years and countin, I've been accounting 

For unaccountable rap problems 

'Cause accountant countin his rap dollars 

The ice watch on the sleeve of the white collar 

Leanin like the Pisa towser, he's in power 

Standing on top of the black bottom 

You should pack up now that the dirty glove is with me 

Take your hat off inside of the mitten when you spittin 

'Cause you can get it for sure 

Your whole rap clapped up out you 

If I don't get you back up 

Got you in a morgue sittin stiff in the drawer 

Niggaz I can't be caught, I can't be bought 

They call me the anti-core, anti-talk 

Anti, when it comes to gettin the kind of hugs 

That come from a fake thug 

That show me a sign of love 

Who am I to judge but you would not out of love 

Walk up if I was washed up like a Tsunami flood 

I ain't trying to bug 

But that's why you got to shove 

Come on. 

 

Photos 

 

[Chorus] 

 

[Royce Da 5'9"] 

Excuse me while I school them on how to pay these dues 

Tell whoever jealous and want to slay me, cool 

The whole game got the old bland of Mercedes blues 

Everybody wanna fill Jay-Z shoes 

I call it the Ferrari sniffs, the Phantom flu 

'Cause y'all sick, what already exists, can't be you 

I told y'all niggaz in oh-two that I can't be touched 

Yo bitch call me sugar dick with the candy nuts 

But ain't shit sweet, don't get it twisted 

I'll beat yo ass, I don't need wine, I don't need cash 

I'll stick a sock in any nigga mouth in any market 

If he talkin, he a target, walk in his apartment 

While he drinkin, spark him 'til he leakin, coughin Remy Martin 

'Cause if I flip my lid, you'd have to toss him in the garbage 

Is nothin to toughen you out, fuck is you frontin about 

We cuttin you in, I'm cuttin you out 

 

[Chorus] 

 

[Royce Da 5'9"] 

Royce five nine is a prophet, in every sense of the word 

Superb finisher, administer words like ministers 

The tall tales of the low sales of a poet 

Centuries rolled up in the pen that he holds up 

He holds it to holy grail, when he saw the soul 

he was since told his flows, the Davinci code decoded 

Since chosen, he prays harder 

But everytime he spot a rival revolvers inside 

His bible like, Gregory Heins with the rage of Harlem 

Po-po's harder, team free-on, we so cold 

Red like beam be on sight, we got weed neon green 

We got a one yay, Celine Deion white, green 

Your last breath, you about five heartbeats away from death 

'Cause you the leon type, so muahh 

Make you rest in peace 

No more records bein sold, less is me 

Five nine, unsigned 

 

[Chorus] 

 

[Spoken Word - Royce] 

Yeahh, Royce Da 5'9", my nigga Nottz 

This is a M.I.C and teams with collaboration 

Ladies and gentleman, I would like to introduce to 

you, Cee-Lo Green. Let's go 

 

[Royce and Cee-Lo] 

Give me a mountain. (Dream my nigga). Give me a sea 

(All my niggaz dealin with the politics). Put your mind on wonderland 

(I smell you my nigga). Be what you want to be. (Dream my nigga) 

 

It's politics my nigga. [repeat 8X] 

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