It's The New

Royce Da 5'9

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    Team invasion.

    Verse One:
    This ain't 'Ye it's more like Aids
    This ain't James it's more like a trade
    And you more like Wade
    And I ain't playin'
    I'm more like Cuban
    Not the cigar, Mark, introduce him

    "It's the new" - Beastie Boys
    "Best rapper alive" - Jay-Z [x4]

    Naw
    This ain't Wayne
    It's more like Pain
    And I ain't talkin' bout with T dash in front
    I'm more like needed rehab for months
    Hock and spew lyrics on Dr. Dru's spirit
    Until he has the mumps
    Drunk
    That's if I can put it in one word
    My niggas that ain't with all the drinkin', they want herb
    So even though the car plush
    The ashtray full of dark butts
    Like we rollin' up lookin' for Yung Berg
    Top off
    Bitch in the front
    Dolein' me up
    Till my rocks off
    Either that or she gonna get lock jaw
    Stop naw
    If she come up for air
    I cut her off like Jesse Jackson with a hand on Barack's balls
    Awe
    Nigga it's me
    Jumper movie in the flesh straight from It-aly
    Five series, six series Benz's
    Fuck them little C's
    I'm on some ole Maino shit
    Throw everything at you but the kitchen sink till I plug you
    It's goin' down
    I'm on some ole Draino shit
    I'm the Rich Po, not so
    The flow spells gospel
    Book you for a show and turn your hotel to hos-pital
    (It's an invasion)
    This ain't Luda, it's more like shoota
    Better yet, +Shot Ya+
    Pac or Big Poppa?

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    Chorus:
    "It's the new"
    "Best rapper alive" [x4]

    Verse Two:
    This ain't Jay
    It's more like sprayed
    The kind that confuse kindness with po' like play
    My bitch got two midgets in the bra
    And a nose like a vacuum
    She did a lot of snow like Wade
    Fuck Forbes
    Fuck Money till they put some black heads them motherfuckers
    Like they come from pores
    Hip hop is alive
    My nigga come for yours
    I got the hood open, attached to jumper cords
    Alone in the mirror
    Rub a dub dub
    I ain't the game
    Even though I don't belong in this era
    I'm tryin' to take shit past Nas, Jay, Shady & Dre shit
    Shout out to the Doc
    I'm tryin' to find patience/patients
    Lookin' like I'm pacin'
    Like hello, say hello to me
    I elbowed my way into niggas conversations
    I don't write rhymes
    I commit death threats
    This my new name if you ain't guessed yet!

    Chorus

    Verse Three:
    Yeah, this ain't Fif
    It's more like a gift
    A bottle of Cris
    On side of a sip or a quality lick
    I'm the shit
    You try to be sick
    I be ridin' with toddler's machine guns
    While you be tryin' to be temp
    I'm still hood
    I move minus the bus pass
    I entered poverty in with the new deluxe pass
    This black nina
    Told me I'm a black leader
    That's why I be preachin' like David Beckham
    Minus the mustache
    But I ain't runnin' from nothin'
    As long as rappers is runnin'
    They receive death from a sentence like capitol punishment
    The flows is mean
    I make a nigga lean
    Like putting the word "meth"
    Up in between the words "pro" and "azine"
    Your bitch bone right after my dick go fish
    I leave her numb like a tongue after a coke kiss
    I'm focused
    I spit madness
    You niggas is borin'
    You at a level orange with your bitch-ass-ness
    Plots is thickenin'
    And I care about rappers
    Bout as much as I care to see Janc and Roc 'C' bickerin'
    Raps is sickenin'
    Glocks is specifically hot
    I'm trippin'
    Is you with me or not?

    Chorus

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