Wall Street

Royce Da 5'9

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    [Intro] [Royce talking]:
    You are now rocking to the sounds of my dawg. DJ Green Lantern. Bar Exam 2 nigga. It's a motherfuckin' holiday bitches.

    [Verse One] [June The Great]:
    I slang hope to the world like my name was Obama
    Shakin' hands with your father while I'm fuckin' yo momma
    Drama
    But I'ma say I'm in a league of my own
    Blowin' my own horn
    Horns of my cousin, Chevy in Texas
    I had to shout him out he's from the south
    Got pussy with me for my brother when he get out
    No doubt
    It goes one for the money
    Two for the show
    Three for the M.I.C. now let's go
    June's flow is pro
    Turn my speakers up louder
    Learn my shit
    Then recite it up in the shower
    No homo
    Yeah, peep my promo on behalf of the Bar Exam 2
    This is my message from me to you
    They'll probably be happy when I'm long gone
    But that'll never happen cause I got way too many songs
    MC's take note, but don't quote too much
    Find your own style and get 'mo in touch
    Plus
    Pussy make the world go round and mine spinnin' out of control
    Where I'ma stop, nobody knows
    You don't want me close to ya
    Scared I might roast ya
    But if I should stop, then who these streets gonna toast to?
    Here's the book of life, I just wrote you a new page
    Inspired by the beat, by the smell of my purple haze
    Hey, Grand River niggas up to no good
    June 1st
    I bring you all closer to my hood

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    [Chorus]:
    Wall Street
    Wall Street
    Yeah, yeah
    Uh huh

    [Verse Two]:
    My appetite for destruction
    My type to do the bustin'
    I eat the beat up like I got an appetite for percussion
    Lighten the mood like it's night and there's moonlight
    Platoon, high on them shrooms but this ain't no food fight
    Witch
    I could fly on a broom stick to my rude type
    My crew don't be 'bout no excuses, gesundheit
    God bless you, sneeze
    I'll wet you, sleeves
    Your arms ain't like ours yet, our recipe is...
    Beef on a platter
    Go on and chatter, it don't matter
    My cheese, I'm eatin' like I'm obese but only fatter
    I only know how to do it the Harriet Tub way
    I'm Underground like the Railroad, I'm prepared to get ugly
    My narrative thug day, can only compare me to drugs
    I take a nigga way from him like Jared from Subway
    You
    Could
    Never ever be on my level
    You don't know what you're in
    But you're in/urine guns like I took a pee on my metal
    Just me and my shuttle
    We fly
    We go together like my feet and my petal
    We ride
    How could I not be greatest?
    When I got Muhammad Ali boxin' inside me in Vegas
    Aye
    Haters
    I just wanna say this
    I know I'm underrated
    But I ain't under paid when it comes to makin'
    Money
    I'm so hot I feel like the son of Satan
    I'm so hot I feel like the sun is hatin'
    Your bitch
    Hhhhuhhhhuhhhh
    Breathin' like a hundred H's
    I am the reason for your under takin'
    There's only one equation
    And it equals I am the sum of greatness

    Yeah, yeah
    Uh huh

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