Royce Da 5'9" - T.D.M.T.L.T.A. lyrics
rate me(Verse)
Uh, they say the clock's ticking
Mines is under my bed, yeah, that's where I keep it
I'm just laying next to some edible vagina
I'm tryna show this bitch that I get betta ova time
I hope ya know a gentleman issue depending on his mood
He'll throw a few scraps to his ratchet fam
Then get in a suit, hat and go clap at ya
While ya at yo dinner, oh, that's classic, man
I'm giving passes in exchange for weight
And by 'passes', I mean gastric, fam
By 'pass', I mean I'll pass cos' these niggas groupies, tran
They giving roofies to fans
I'd rather invite ova Karrueche Tran
Answer the door wit' some lil' 'Bootsy' playing
We ain't really hearing ya niggas sitting on dubs
I got my ear to yo car window
I still don't understand what do ya be sayin'
Could ya please move that lil' piece of shit out the way
So I could take the piss?
By the way, what are y'all competing for?
If I could just be honest, my wifey fucking gorgeous
And if I ain't fucking Rihanna, then what the fuck I'm cheating for?
If this movie I'm living's for yo viewing pleasure
Then I can't really be no whore
Cos' they don't make 'em like me no more
(Hook)
They don't make 'em like me no more
Yeah, that's opportunity knocking
I'm standing where it might be yo door
To say to ya that they don't make 'em like me no more
(Verse 2)
May God bless anyone against this conquest
Y'all hire muscle like I'm pressed
Like I ain't out here walking 'round like I'm a one-man arm press
I'm just in the zone
I said, "Less talk", not "Let's talk", let's just get it on
Who the best out right now? Just get 'em on the phone
Tell him I don't want much
I just want to tell him that I plan to come and kill him
I'ma probably talk to him soft like Liam Neeson
Like I'm being decent
I'm PRhyme, I'm Slaughterhouse, I'm BME
I'm sort of like 'Pac in the vest, I got no fear in me
Cos' I done been to hell and back so many times
That I think I'd seen the smile on the face of the reaper
So don't waste yo time praying to yo creator
Too late, he can't make ya like me, bruh
(Hook)
(Verse 3)
This ain't the standard ops ya niggas done ran across
I'll send my little man across the street
He'll stop squeezing 'till sumething pops into yo head
Like a random thought, I don't care for drama
I'd rather terrorize ya, chase you 'round yo city
Like ya Sarah Connor and I'm the Terminator
I'm wearing Ferragamo the same time that the devil's wearin' Prada
Why would ya and I compare albums?
I got yo life in the palm of my hands
Laying it down is all I'm thinking 'bout
And newsflash, niggas is frauds, it's all an act
When he tough wit' the talk
He don't go out in traffic, he know I'll slap him
He know I'll snatch him out of that box he lives in he calls Abby
Ya know I'll stuff him back in that box
That I put niggas in called casket
It ain't nothing to squash, don't call my line wit' that wack shit
Ya want to get to the bottom of that? Call catfish
Now let me get back to what I was doing
This hundred-round drum turns around time in mixed months
Same Valentine's day massacre, March Madness
Wrapped in a big blunt, let's smoke the niggas who really live it
Who know what beef really is and don't speak if it really isn't
Got niggas doing life in the prison on the iPhone and the cordless
And I live in the no-fly zone
And more digits is all that I got my eyes on
I see ya clowns through the eyes of the Lord
I'm looking down on, I'll be around for yo rise and yo fall
Ya rhyme, what's more mind-blowing than a nine to yo jaw?
Even a weak flow could be nice
I'm taking penitentiary chances
We roll the dice like the Migos in Vice
Ya want these hoes and likes
Me? I'm the one there'll be no one like
