What A Time lyrics - Royce Da 5'9" (feat. Courtney Bell & Liz Rodriguez)

Brrah

We don't wanna live by the rules
Sound the hunting, I ain't no good for you
My phone made me buy big money
Tryna wash my mind
Put a time, put a time
(Yeah, yeah, body)
Put a time, put a time

Distracted in every facet
Bread from a casket, I won't shuck and jive for no master
Boy, I owe my masters
How you feedin' poison to the masses?
Liquor stores and fast food, we dine over fashion
This ain't no American dream, gave us American pie
I sliced it up for the team, they hate when you make it out
And you look just like me, a black messiah
Clip your wings when you sayin' here to lead, look
How you make me follow law when I'm not human?
Three-fifths of a man is what you wrote in constitutions, look
In the words of Hampton, I'm the revolution
No CO or TELCO can stop this movement
Forcing needles on us, Takiki experiment, recon on us
It's gon' be alive long as I'm speaking on it
Since we teaching on it, I'm a radical, I stand for the people
Can't no amount of money make me deceive them, oh yeah

We don't wanna live by the rules
Sound the hunting, I ain't no good for you
My phone made me buy big money
Tryna wash my mind
For the time, for the time, for the time

I'm the last real rapper since Curtis Jackson, perhaps 'cause y'all done killed them all
Dillers even mixed Mac Miller pack with the fentanyl
Your body is my wonderland
Me and my lady vibin' and Ed Sheeran, floggin' them damn Karens
Me and Courtney, we called us the Gifted Gab
Union And Roly Diamonds too cloudy to be this transparent
That street sweeper get the light and then pray you the janitor
That speech flippin' with enlightenin' fatal pentameter
I keep livin' to give life to your fable for amateurs
I robbed a dealer at the roulette table for gamblers
I leave dick in your mother
Mary, you may wanna come clean
You may end up related to J. Rule The Damager
I put the journey in gurneys like the return of Isley
Lies and sermons and ivies internalize me
Burnin' rivalries, God's return from my urn of ivory
Lighty and Hermes from the Turner Diary
I got headless rappers buried at my address
I got Virgil ashes gettin' married on my lap desk
Depression is refreshing, accept it as my sadness
Happiness is a blessing, a method to my madness

We don't wanna live by the rules
Sound the hunting, I ain't no good for you
My phone made me buy big money
Tryna wash my mind
All the time, all the time, all the time

No comments:

Post a Comment

Followers