State Your Name

Royce Da 5'9

    Continues after the ad

    (D-Elite.. state your naaaame, gangsta!)

    [Tre' Little]
    C'mon, Tre' Little don status, hold my dick
    Say ya label push the date back, now that's what you get
    I came in this game like it's more than rap (c'mon)
    Dog, I'm tryin to destroy the salary cap
    The Source is happy we came six covers, it's covered
    That'll last about May, June, well into the summer
    Why talk about different colors for various Coupes
    Shit green, fart blue, ooh clever you
    Help me ma, I'll take a shot at any one of y'alls
    Got mami droppin drawers before the first phone call
    We some gangstas, study the "Ten Crack Commandments"
    Stay +Big+, and worship "Hail Mary", that's how we live
    Lay low good guys, catch you with a hook I
    know why you lie, ya crew ain't quite like mine
    Spit it like ooh my, these labels like ooh my

    (State your naaaame, gangsta!)

    [Cha Cha]
    It's the C-H-A, say it with me niggaz
    Cha Cha Cha, y'all Cha Cha Cha
    You cannot lie or deny these niggaz ain't rah-rah
    Put the barrel on the bridge of your nose and turn you cock-eyed
    Steppin to us not wise, told you how to get live
    Go in depth best with the finger next to the index
    Such threats expect five guys, five tecs
    Make they gats all sing in unison like a quintet
    They don't say whodi, son, dunn, or young'n
    You can owe 'em and say hi and they greet you like "Hey guy"
    Whattup though Nickel, Jah, Tre', X, and Cut Throat
    My brethrens all veterans all throwin up sevens
    When we rock hits to the sky throw 'em up to the heavens
    Us and crews clash no more, we built the Rapport
    Me and Royce here to restore what we were buildin before
    So add a million sold or more is when I get at you whores, uh-huh

    (State your naaaame, gangsta!)

    Continues after the ad

    [Cut Throat]
    Cut Throat, the livin threat street shit the blueprint
    The guideline rappers sideline until they buy mine
    Them little guns y'all blow, I stay on the low (uhh)
    Rap like this and work the scale like so (uhh)
    Take it to the gutter, we could duke or shoot it out
    Switchblades pump gauge, whatever you about
    Burn you to ya hood, we could bang for the work
    For the buildings or the blocks do the thang to the dirt
    I'm a FUCK-in fool, crews DUCK and move
    Stay in a FUCKED up mood, one FUCKED up dude
    When it's hot I, breathe in the heat, don't even sleep
    I, be knee-deep in the beats that made me
    a certified gangsta specialize in duct tape
    Let you know how many fo'-five slugs your gut take
    Show your favorite thug how to be a thug, top that nigga
    Turn your favorite drug into another drug, cop that nigga

    (State your naaaame, gangsta!)

    [Jah 5'9"]
    Jah da 5'9" speak and shake rhyme great, history's made
    The street gangsta city flow race against time
    Never sign for cash, my hustle's the shit {*whoosh*}
    You feel the breeze push past, you get a grip
    Millennium game, earth tone keep it in range
    Close to the grave I rock, fake niggaz shouldn't doubt us
    Surrounded by crooks, full clips and fine weed
    Choice clothes, on my Bossi, and fine hoes
    Long nights, bust those in small cris'
    Niggaz playin themselves for thinkin we rhyme alike
    How would you fight me, I'm like ten families strong
    Manipulation by song, relate to it niggaz
    Henny on the rocks toast to the real, in God we trust
    Calm gladiator, song navigator
    Them whole blocks got a story to tell
    All of a sudden seasons change, you're welcome

    (State your naaaame, gangsta!)

    [Billy Nix]
    Billy Nix, black man is here, listen close
    Spittin, just to niggaz, X address the niggaz
    Most niggaz don't see right, see light like it's darkness
    No guns in sight, no might for the heartless
    We run ya mics, you write like you're retarded
    No offense but your flow's slow and dense
    I know my niggaz hearin the D, ya smellin this
    You spoke that which you wrote while broke yellin rich
    Didn't know, you shoulda spoke while broke sayin poor
    Then Biggie up, "Kick in the Door," play it some more
    This is the evolution of emceein, who dissin us?
    Gettin Rah, stick up nigga, hand me ya listeners
    Get a job we here, D-Elite, touch it
    Matter fact, niggaz is wack, Wall Street fuck it
    X government agent remember yo' name, remember yo' game
    You niggaz won't be spittin the same, motherfucker

    (State your naaaame, gangsta!)

    My God!

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