Boom

Ugh
 Boom, boom
 Tick-tick-tick
 Yeah
 Five-nine, ugh
 Yo
 I'm the verbal-spit Smith Wesson, I unload with sick spit
 The quick wit could split a split-second
 Bomb with a lit wick expression
 You hear a "Tick-tick," then you testin'
 My saliva and spit could split thread into fiber and bits
 So trust me, I'm as live as it gets
 Everybody claim they the best and they head the throne since B.I.G is gone
 If you ask me, they "Dead Wrong"
 My flow is hotter than the flash from the click
 When the hammer slaps the bullet on the ass from the clip
 You wind up in a room full of my dogs
 I'll have you feeling like a fire hydrant in a room full of dogs
 So come, come, now, get pissed on, shitted on
 Tough talk turns to, "Can't we all just get along?"
 You get blazed when the mic's off, shot when it's on
 You probably ducked when they laid the gunshot in your song
 My gun st-stutters when it speaks to you
 Utter shit to repeat to you
 'Nough in the clip, to give a speech to you
 Me and Premier, we kind of the same in ways
 We both speak with our hands in dangerous ways
 Rap now is a circus of clowns
 A whole lot of lip from cliques I'd prolly rap circles around
 I'm the next best to reach a peak
 Formerly known as the best kept secret—I guess that I just leaked it
 (Boom!)
 Somebody better duck or (run)
 Somebody better (watch out 'cause he's bout to blow up)
 Boom boom, bam, God-damn! Royce 5'9" (boom!)
 Somebody better duck or (run)
 Somebody better (watch out 'cause he's bout to blow up)
 Boom boom, bam, God-damn! Royce 5'9"
 I'm a motherfucking star, I don't battle no more
 I provide the gun-clapping round of applause after your show
 And we could go toe-to-toe 'cause they calling you hot
 Stepping around all your punches, like, "That's all you got?"
 Every day, I'm meeting somebody and all of they peeps
 Quick to shake a nigga's hand and show me all of they teeth
 And these bitches—I be patting they asses
 They be all dumb and googly-eyed looking at me, batting they lashes
 Rappers think Detroit niggas not as down as them
 Or since that I'm down with Slim that I sound like him
 Quick to judge me and tell me that my hook might sell
 And say faggot shit to me like I look like L
 My advice, quit talking, it's over
 I was knocking niggas out when you was knocking sticks off of their shoulders
 I got dirt done in my past, I know y'all sweat
 I got regrets older than some of you so-called "vets"
 Niggas say I found God with the flow
 Bring the police to the studio and bring the bomb squad to the show
 Ain't a nigga touching mines
 When you listen to my shit, you don't chew, you don't breathe
 You don't miss a fucking line
 Every time I spit, I tick to show you it's hot
 Leave me in the deck too long, I blow up your box—boom!
 Boom boom, bam, God-damn! Royce 5'9" (boom!)
 Somebody better duck or (run)
 Somebody better (watch out 'cause he's bout to blow up)
 Boom boom, bam, God-damn! Royce 5'9"
 (Boom!)
 Somebody better duck or (run)
 Somebody better (watch out 'cause he's bout to blow up)
 Boom boom, bam, God-damn! Royce 5'9" (boom!)
 Boom boom, bam, God-damn! Royce 5'9"
 Boom boom, bam, God-damn! Royce 5'9"
 Boom boom, bam, God-damn! Royce 5'9"