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Politics
Royce da 5′9" feat. CeeLo Green
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🇬🇧 English · Original
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Dreamy mountain, dreamy of sea
Put your mind on wonderin', be what you wanna be
It's politics, my nigga, politics, my nigga
Politics, my nigga, politics
It's politics, my nigga, politics, my nigga
Politics, my nigga, politics
Seven years and countin' I've been accountin' for unaccountable
Rap problems, cause accountin' countless rap dollars
The ice watch on the sleeve of the white collar
Leanin' like the Pisa Tower, he's in power
Standin' on top of the black bottom, you should pack up
Now that the, dirty club is with me take your hat off inside of the
Mitten when you spittin' cause you could get it for sure
Your whole rap clapped up 'bout you if I don't get you back up
Got you in the morgue sittin' stiff in a drawer
Niggas, I can't be caught, I can't be bought
They call me the anti-corp, anti-talk
Antsy, when it comes to gettin' the kind of hugs
That come from a fake thug that show me a sign of love
Who am I to judge, but you would not out of love
Walk up if I was washed up like the tsunami floods
I ain't tryin' to bug but that's why you gotta shove
Excuse me while I school 'em on how to pay these dues
Tell whoever jealous and wanna slay me, cool
The whole game got the old bling and Mercedes blues
Everybody wanna fill Jay-Z shoes
I call it the Ferrari sniffs, the Phantom flu
Cause y'all sick, what already exists, can't be you
I told y'all niggas in '02 that I can't be touched
Your bitch call me sugar dick with the candy nuts
But ain't shit sweet, don't get it twisted, I'll beat yo' ass
I don't need wine, I don't need cash
I'll stick a sock in any nigga mouth at any market
If he talkin' he a target, walk in his apartment
While he drinkin' sparklin' 'til he leakin' coughin' Remy Martin
Cause if I flip my lid you have to toss him in the garbage
It's nothin' to toughen you out, fuck is you frontin' about
We cuttin' you in or cuttin' you out
Royce 5'9" is a prophet, in every sense of the word
Superb finisher, administer words like ministers
The told tale of the low sales of a poet
Centuries rolled up in the pen that he holds up
He holds it, the Holy Grail, when he sold his soul
He was since told his flows the Da Vinci Code, decoded
Since chosen he prays harder, but every time he spot a rival
Revolve is inside his Bible like Gregory Hines with the rage of Harlem
Po-po's call the team Freon, we so cold
Red light beam beyond sight, we got weed neon green
We got A-1 yay, Celine Dion white
Breathe, your last breath, you about five heartbeats
Away from death, cause you the Leon type, so drop
May you rest in peace, no more records bein' sold 'less it's me
5'9", Unsigned
Yeah, yeah
Royce da 5'9", my nigga Knots
This is a M-I-C and Teams collaboration
Ladies and gentlemen I'd like to introduce to you, Cee-Lo Green
Let's go
Dream, my nigga
All my niggas dealin' with the politics
I smell you, my nigga
Dream, my nigga
Come on
It's politics, my nigga, politics, my nigga
Politics, my nigga, politics
It's politics, my nigga, politics, my nigga
Politics, my nigga, politics