Royce Da 5'9" - Over Freestyle lyrics

rate me

They say I'm the best in here! (whoo!) - Picture your wife fuckin' your twin,

I'm like him! - May the best man win!

So later for you bums,

A ways back I made a pact to stay sharp enough to sharpen a razor on my tongue. (come on!)

I'm sick with this! - You sick like a panty sniffer, (sniffer!)

And you just wanted to see her pee - like a dick blister. (c'mon!)

Ya'll remind me of Fantasia brother, y'all be whilin',

On TV everyday I turn on y'all and y'all be cryin'! (cryin'!)

I'm SURGICAL with this motherfuckin' pen!

The sickest nigga spittin' till the end! (till the end!)

I don't really have to against that 'cause

I'm the last lyrical W-T-F O-M-G factor!

So back off

Before I blow your knee cap off!

I'm a eat this beat like a bee-eatin'

We, you in da street's where the beef is,

In the car goin' beep-beep!

While I roll over the drums and just straight peel through the pieces! (hahh!)

Bout to build me a time machine an' - get it in? - And go back I'm done!

Find Frank Nitti and Al Calpone like - can y'all autograph my gun?

Haha! - I ain't tryin' that hard, right now!

I'm just havin' fun; tell the whole world I just had a son!

First name "Earth"! - Last name "None",

Get up on that and your cash ain't come and you don't spit that shit ass like a

Raised by a gangsta,

Come up in the house get your ass whooped and then get your ass whoop on!

What a nigga know about the water in the shower gettin' cold because the bathroom faucet is on,

The reason why I grab you, stab you, out rap you when I ain't feelin like Tommy McCron!

Heat a nigga house with the oven,

Like I like thuggin'!

But I probably just spit on my mother, had to heat up the house the oven,

Had to spend the night with my cousin!

Yes, I be poppin' lots of shit you can't do nothin' bout it bitch;

So get the heads up or be my rock 'em sock 'em, poppin' shit! (poppin' shit!) (whooo!)

I'm like a stock of bond - that can drop a bomb, (C'MON!)

Ridin' slow with the slidin' door on the side.

Open on that minivan, intended for no soccer mom,

Lighters up high! (high!)

I'm your fire supply!

Writer with mad skills, I'm I'll so hire your guy! (ME!)

Nobody is harder! - He don't give a fuck what he "Slaughters", (HA!)

He will drag your slutty daughter through the muddy waters!

This beat is bait!

Get it outta me, I can shit it out me, IT'S ATE! - I think I owe Drake an apology!

Tweet about that little fuckin' fruit!