Thou Shall (ft. Kid Vishis) Songtext
von Royce da 5′9″
Thou Shall (ft. Kid Vishis) Songtext
Thou shall not fuck with Detroit and me
Never owned a coogie, Ford truck
Or a pair of them gator Mauris
Please hold your applause for these parables and stories
Give all praise to Allah, to God be the glory
My Papa raised me like I′m a dog with rabies
Playin' the hard-to-hard in a dropped Mercedes
Ridin′ with the chopper daily
Pupils dilated like I'm Sada Baby
Nozzle on that gun larger than the one on that Gaga lady
Play with my time like I'm a playful don
My arm comes out the car
My window down like I′m tryna borrow some Grey Poupon
First these bitches love it
Then they hate it, then they hate to love it
I′m straight with publishin'
I don′t care if the radio station's stubborn
Y′all haters busters, I'm David Ruffin
It′ll take me nothin' to put your life on a dollar menu
Right there by the Egg McMuffin
While these boys orderin' shots, snortin′ rocks, and importin′ thots
I'm floatin′ with 40 knots to the bag, like I'm a border cop
Any artist in hip-hop fuck with Nickel stock, sure to drop
Especially if he Russel Wilson, good guy, sorta pop
You sure to die, pallbearers, bring flowers, he′s mortified
Me and Porter got the same stayin' power that hoarders got
Whoever Superman, I got kryptonite in these hands
But I′d rather soup-a-man, leave you liquified with these cans
I don't care if you rap niggas is trendin'
Topic is shit, your shit′s garbage
You couldn′t make a classic out of that trash
If you had Brenda drop it
You at the rental car spot Enterprise, while I'm enterprisin′
I don't cop my whips without coppin′ rims and a body kit
And my tint is darkened
Closest I'ma probably get, to window shoppin′
Alright we're gonna try a new sound
Uh, yeah, yeah (Alright we're gonna try a new sound)
Say goodbye to the good guy
I hotboxed on your block and I got the whole hood high
You know who all the dead niggas is, they tryna look live
Instagram post bank accounts, it wouldn′t look right
Your favorite rappers sweet, you look up to geeks
I wanna flip the world upside down
And make all you niggas look up to the streets
I don′t believe none of you frail niggas
A man should never be described as petite
I don't wait when it′s war, I'm on some now shit
Leave your mama prayin′ over beef, I halal shit
All these foul styles goin' ′round and y'all allow it
No skill required, the game's overcrowded
So when the rapper say he can spit now, I doubt it
You could listen to Future but just know who the now is
I get to share a stage with Nickel Nine, that′s crazy
We on tour with Eminem, baby, that′s Shady
Room full of naked chicks, surrounded by pussy
'Cause I rap amazin′, you at the crib hatin'
With your kittens, lookin′ like the weird cat lady
Trippin', watchin′ Xvids while I'm with your ex-bitch
'Til I′m restless
Don′t want me to send goons to investigate, they faux niggas
And believe me, it's hard to find a coffin that′s pretzel shape
When goin' to the special place
Say an extra grace, black men in America ain′t just slaves
Long as the queen don't need nothin′ for it's a seven
While I'm still buildin′ credit outta debt
I know where I′m headed, I don't need the reverend
Royce gave me access to the lab, I got the key to Heaven
Never owned a coogie, Ford truck
Or a pair of them gator Mauris
Please hold your applause for these parables and stories
Give all praise to Allah, to God be the glory
My Papa raised me like I′m a dog with rabies
Playin' the hard-to-hard in a dropped Mercedes
Ridin′ with the chopper daily
Pupils dilated like I'm Sada Baby
Nozzle on that gun larger than the one on that Gaga lady
Play with my time like I'm a playful don
My arm comes out the car
My window down like I′m tryna borrow some Grey Poupon
First these bitches love it
Then they hate it, then they hate to love it
I′m straight with publishin'
I don′t care if the radio station's stubborn
Y′all haters busters, I'm David Ruffin
It′ll take me nothin' to put your life on a dollar menu
Right there by the Egg McMuffin
While these boys orderin' shots, snortin′ rocks, and importin′ thots
I'm floatin′ with 40 knots to the bag, like I'm a border cop
Any artist in hip-hop fuck with Nickel stock, sure to drop
Especially if he Russel Wilson, good guy, sorta pop
You sure to die, pallbearers, bring flowers, he′s mortified
Me and Porter got the same stayin' power that hoarders got
Whoever Superman, I got kryptonite in these hands
But I′d rather soup-a-man, leave you liquified with these cans
I don't care if you rap niggas is trendin'
Topic is shit, your shit′s garbage
You couldn′t make a classic out of that trash
If you had Brenda drop it
You at the rental car spot Enterprise, while I'm enterprisin′
I don't cop my whips without coppin′ rims and a body kit
And my tint is darkened
Closest I'ma probably get, to window shoppin′
Alright we're gonna try a new sound
Uh, yeah, yeah (Alright we're gonna try a new sound)
Say goodbye to the good guy
I hotboxed on your block and I got the whole hood high
You know who all the dead niggas is, they tryna look live
Instagram post bank accounts, it wouldn′t look right
Your favorite rappers sweet, you look up to geeks
I wanna flip the world upside down
And make all you niggas look up to the streets
I don′t believe none of you frail niggas
A man should never be described as petite
I don't wait when it′s war, I'm on some now shit
Leave your mama prayin′ over beef, I halal shit
All these foul styles goin' ′round and y'all allow it
No skill required, the game's overcrowded
So when the rapper say he can spit now, I doubt it
You could listen to Future but just know who the now is
I get to share a stage with Nickel Nine, that′s crazy
We on tour with Eminem, baby, that′s Shady
Room full of naked chicks, surrounded by pussy
'Cause I rap amazin′, you at the crib hatin'
With your kittens, lookin′ like the weird cat lady
Trippin', watchin′ Xvids while I'm with your ex-bitch
'Til I′m restless
Don′t want me to send goons to investigate, they faux niggas
And believe me, it's hard to find a coffin that′s pretzel shape
When goin' to the special place
Say an extra grace, black men in America ain′t just slaves
Long as the queen don't need nothin′ for it's a seven
While I'm still buildin′ credit outta debt
I know where I′m headed, I don't need the reverend
Royce gave me access to the lab, I got the key to Heaven
Writer(s): Ryan D. Montgomery, M. Montgomery, E. Johnson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com