Wishin' III

[Intro: Jester]

You're now listenin' to a lyricist with a transparent face

Who grew up on Earl Simmons, Alvin Joiner & Aaron Yates

46 days in flesh, 47 nights in blood, I marinates

In the same corner where I sat & ate

My mum an dad threw their addictions, I started saturate

My activities were paranormal, couldn't catch me on tape

Ruin your regiment regime

Unearth your nightmares, whilst I cement my dreams

I'm from a council estate, I can't fuckin' make sense of my own scenes

Everybody says I got the jars & bottles organized

I gotta aborted mouth, foster ears with orphan eyes

I was miscarried into communion that's when the organs dies



[Verse 1: Jester]

First class ticket I got for my train of thought

You couldn't inflict on the pain I brought

Picture me not fittin' in the frame I bought

Lyrically I'm elsewhere on the map

In the middle of nowhere I'm at

Stuck in the moment over there in rap

Your heart for this is mediocre

I'll attack every flat line, medics at your door

Watch your whole fuckin' appendix pour

Now we can change the circumstance

Jingling my balls in front of a audio audience, make the circus dance

Love is blind, watch my eye disappear

Fell on death with my missin' ear

Lookin' over there, when you should be listenin' hear

Where the fuck did my valium grow

Back there's more than a gallon to throw

Cunts welcome to the Vaughan Arron show

I was Grimm to my brothers like Edgar Allen Poe

I'm buildin' on these writers blocks

Thinkin' outside the writers box

Fuck your top five, I'm ina league of my own that's when the invitin' stops



[Verse 2: Royce da 5'9]

I'm sending my killers to the store for Patron and Danish

My n***a, my n***a, I would go get it myself, but I'm famous

And I ain't never changing, I'm never done paying my dues

My mind frame is "I'm forever making my payments"

I walk by a so called tough guy, watch him tuck his chain in

No snatching though, watch what you put my fucking name in

Kind of like an armless actor playing an action role

I'm out on the west copping like Axel Foley, ask the police

But at least I'm active though

I bought my bitch an ass then wrote it off on my taxes

Listed it as an independent backing like Macklemore

Half of my clique is bastards

The other half of my clique don't know half of the kids they have

It's savage, that's average though

Like 30k a year spent on yeast

In order to walk in the streets

In my shoes, you're gon need Flintstone feet

And room for baggage, and room in your Nikes

So they can hypothetically tag your toe

Motherfuckers can't rhyme no more about rhyme no more

Cause I'm so raw

Will I win? ain't an if, it's a when

Kind of like asking "what time is karma gon find Solar"

So tomorrow, in hindsight, if you an artist, death's near, the fans know

What you draw falls on deaf ears like Van Gogh

I chose rap glory over the stratosphere

No plaques or trophies, I already have them here

(Let's go, Preem)

I'm just trying to leave my mark but I've got the same backstory as a tatted tear

The kind of frame I prefer to see the world through

Don't ask me nothing about Budden

I suppose I propose to all my girls too

I'm in the Forbes in in a pearl suit

Bitches know the score like Sheryl Swoopes

You know they say that you dying if you ain't living good

I'm dumping a hit man's salary worth of quarters down the world's largest wishing well

Wishing a n***a would

(Wishing a n***a would)



[Interlude]

Ladies and gentlemen

I think my record speaks for itself



[Verse 3: Common]

A rival of survival, idle movement and chatter

We was stepping in the Chi before we knew the ladder

Climb up till your time's up, a daily reminder

My daily operation is to spark the population

Salutation to the nation of the Nubians and hooligans

That knew me when we was boxing n***as up in Julian

The bond that I have with the Quran and the math

Supreme talk, I'm walking a king's walk

Watch it vibrate, while I take the wings off

Straight out of Chitown where they get that lean off

Fiends cough for serum, hitters rally rally like it's Durham

You in Illinois, we don't know what can cure 'em

I'm sicker than most of them from the 'Go so the flow don't end

Come get it bae like you from Oakland

I'm in the building and this my grand opening

I'm postering them n***as that were supposed to been

Doper than more pussy than fallopian



[Interlude]

These are the sounds of days that are passed



[Verse 4: Royce Da 5'9"]

Kick in the door waving the .44

K's in the floorboards, stays in the Waldorf

I will board a jet cheap, fly to where you're sure to get deep

To show your crew my immortal technique

I'll elaborate, sixteen pistols and extendos

Hidden inside three or four twelve hundred crates

If we at war, I'll exaggerate

Sweep up the streets till the clique clean

Shoot you while we watch the tables turn like a DWYCK scene

Street sweeper, knock his head clean off his body

Then keep sweeping long enough to clean off his body

Lean off the bottle then fly a n***a queen off to Cabo

Then have her feeding me papayas and grapes, I'm an acquired taste

If you don't like me, acquire some taste

And all I talk about is murdering

All you do is test pros, I'll shoot you while you protest

Shout to all my brothers and my sisters out in Ferguson

The police want us shot

And you gon be the next to drop in front of that donut shop



[Interlude]

We record a new dimension of history



[Verse 5: Royce Da 5'9"]

I kicked my habits in Visvim sneakers

And developed into the new now

Win Animal Planet

I got me a plaque and a Grammy while i'm going zoo now

Me still being irrelevant

Then became the elephant in the room now

(Is he ever gonna fall off?) No

I walk by so-called tough guy

Watch him pass me nervous after I passed him

He gon' get with the street life or

He gon' turn the other cheek like a half done ass job

Sitting right in front of a plastic surgeon

Then I jump in the black Suburban

Snatch the curtain, wrapping your R&B act in it

After I squeeze 21 entries

And it ain't no need to ask for IDs

I'm certain that if you offend me then it shall get windy

And that's right before the Mac 10 is working, click

And it ain't no irony in the fact that I am giving you fire

And that fire comes after the earth, wind, whew

Preme in his prime, I'm in my prime

("You know it can never be imitated")

("Shout outs to Royce, Primo

It's Common Sense, Big Illinois")



[Verse 6: Black Thought]

Yo, the voice of the announcer signing off

Salvador, a connoisseur, a hot monologue

Rachmaninoff, livin' life not by the law

And I'm a product of that Rakim — God, Allah

Forensic files, leaving 'em disemboweled, '87 style

They chance slimmer than reverend Al or Kevin Liles

Some friends are vile, still be peddlin' vials

Off of eleven mile, they wishin' you would

You prolly better reconcile

The dark side of to who they rising in prominence

My crown's taller than Suleiman of The Ottoman's

Wiser than Solomon, mobilizing the following

They try and give me the Nobel prize for novelists

Peace to cats that rock MAC knowledge knowledges

Hood astrologists, illegal anesthesiologists, yo

El elefante, Bella Fonte

Keep a regimen ready to give 'em hell if PRhyme say



Yo, post-traumatic stress, I wear it as a family crest

I murder at its best, words that'll manifest causing cardiac arrest

Budapest to Marrakesh, my slang Bangladesh

My gang’s Clarence X, I'm life after death, the last Levine X

Lettin' every other rapper know they better wear a vest

I'm pulling in two hundred thousand for appearances

I wrote a song about it, here it is, yo

The creature feature search a preacher teacher torch

Capture, rupture, rapture, reach her, the preacher

He defeat ya, speak the ether, sneak then creep ya

Say no peace to meet ya, can't nobody get with me

Strong suits from Italy, chill, humility what I'm all about, ability, yo

I wish a n***a would bring the hostility though

You know how them boys from Philly be

I'm like cyanide, creeping through the air ducts

And I got a foul mouth, tell 'em kids earmuffs

When I was at school, I was who to steer clear of

Smoking a reefer in the bathroom, sipping Smirnoff

When it came time for the pictures in the yearbook

I was up in Paris like an American werewolf

Years later, yo I'm an American hero verse evil like

Deerhoof, if I let the bear woof

They don't recognize me when I'm shopping up in Berdgdorf

They just know I'm flier than the motherfucking airport

Therefore they say I'm a sartorial gear whore, yeah



[Verse 7: Royce Da 5'9"]

Uh, Ascots on the tailor suits

You artists throwing bands on the radio like they made you you

I'm looking for artists on stage to throw tomatoes to

The way I act you think I'm banned from radio, like Trae Tha Truth

I don't really care, n***a, I'm getting yen

I’ve got a C-63, V-Twizzy Benz I’m sitting in

I'on, I'on, I'on give a fuck, any DJ anywhere

I'on, I'on give 'em as a triple dare, I'll tie him to a swivel chair

I'on give 'em spins, ha ha, I'on give 'em grins and count dividends

Ask around by them D-Town n***as that'll leave you with a concert

Full of dead fans and bloody merch

Smoking dope that Celie... That’s the color purp

You might wanna study first

Every verse lyrical but nutty first

Every verb and every word is like a speeding bullet

'Bout to chop your body in half while it's on the way to heaven

Like Kid Cudi shirt, shit could be a hit but it's gotta be money first

I rap with a sickness card, Iraq pistol pulling private, shh



[Interlude: Royce Da 5'9"]

Chris, I think I got the Gully curse



[Verse 8: Royce Da 5'9"]

Underground, underrated, y'all keep digging for answers, like the route to cancer

I keep turning Preemo beats into chemo treatments, I keep wiggin' like a oop to Andrew

I'm clumsy when I shoot, oops, I bet your crew'll scrambled

I don't write for limelight, I shine the rhyme light down then I'll produce a scandal

I'm what your baby moms would do for cameras

I'm leaving everything from the marriage to her little cooch in shambles

Your posse even get in my broad way your posse'll perish

Your posse'll become the posse up there

I'm outlining all of they bodies in chalk, setting fire to 'em

To the chocolate on top like chocolate eclairs

They outfit and jacket is bail staff

While we in the air, it's Yahtzee on Lears

And when we land, we on yatchs saying grazie to the mail staff

Muah, kiss my ass, y'all can go to hell fast

I'm just ready for whatever hell brings (Focus, man)

Getting closer to that real money like Gayle King (That's Oprah's friend)

I think of nightmares that'll ruining your dreams

And I just went shopping in China, yeah I flew with the team

Fuck a translator, I speak fluent, cha-ching

Y'all holding shit down with that selfie stick

I'm fly in some shit out of Harvey Nichols and Selfridges

Even when me and Shady was Abel and Caine

We worked our magic separately like Angel and Blaine

Came into this game with a navy like Baby and Wayne

Now every pair of glasses I have has a crazy insane Jazze Pha gradient frame

The least most amazing vehicle I have is a lease, though

It's a beast 4-80 and change

Y'all tryna pick up Bieber and Drake fans

Not me, but I'm in the streets though, like a Canadian crane

To elaborate is to annihilate, please don't make me explain

Come get your bitch! Before I make her smile, ha

'Fore I perform a bunch of acts on her like Saturday Night Live then take a bow

Like Kenan Thompson, I don't believe in nonsense

I don't got no felonies in my record, I just got a fleeing conscience

I'm just out here spending money like I'm being sponsored

I'm just on my Philly crime shit, my ice cold Jack Frost mind

My black thoughts are my only real accomplice...