Royce Da 5'9" - I''ll Bury You lyrics

Verse 1 Royce Da 5'9 Im not the one to step to My word, I'm the sh** Unless you a fu**in deaf mute You heard I was sick On my 4th record deal The points ain't change Run up on your rover And put you in point blank range Microphone terrorist Verbal bin laden Tear your head off in front of 30 mil' watching Dirty pill poppin' Pus*y eating criminal Money making Murda, mc general! Sullee J Cynical! Haters get evaded With lasers, eradicated Pistol parading Trigger ventilation Uncivil with the 9 No limit, elimination Soul snatching bigoters Bitter the generation Belittle til' there little Through drivel manipulation Ignorant deliverer's Figure with no parameters Incinerate the image Of visionary ambitioner's The devil keep on talkin' But never was I a listener Hook All you haters go to hell My soul i'll never sell I'll bury you! Down with the shovel You ain't even on my level Verse 2 Royce Da 5'9 I'm a lyrical dope man I should get my phone tapped Slaughterhouse wizard I should rock a cone hat Styrofoam cup Is probably where the patron at In the mouth of your bi**h Is probably where my bone at I went from getting into fights Getting sparked at To sipping, sitting at the light Getting gawked at The vale see me and tip me just to park that We bought everything out of gucci Now we off that Sullee J My trigger straight raid Deliver with vigor rage Pa** Royce the machete Deminish you, with a plague I deposit you in rivers Dismiss you, I will invade With a razor, incinerate! Disintegrate! craze! I just rose out of hell With a cold cerebell.. k**'t the devil and his hoe Kept my soul, so surreal Ask God, I been to heaven Til' He forced my expel Reveal i will a spell With a torturous quell Verse 3 Cashis Im in an out of them cases HD lab Started out in the basement Free from the chains The industry like a slave ship And underground acts Built they hip hop nation Remain un-famous Young, wild and dangerous The come round s**ers That don't know how good my aim is Spark the weed, flaming My night lights, bright like in vegas I'm way to major For all y'all haters Cook corners in the tricked out whip This ain't basic Underground sound out the basement All black whips from soft white Something like a slave ship Smoked out Live in the matrix Theres money all around No need to chase it Be at bay, banking 6 digits in franklins Indiana pacin', drag racin' 180 on the side street Screaming mama, I made it