Royce Da 5'9" - Son Of Greg lyrics

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Royce Da 5'9" - Son Of Greg lyrics

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"] Son of Greg, child of God Eyes closed off cause I'm trying to decide How to coincide with father time Then my eyes go wide Cause I'm trying to tightrope walk on my bottom line Same time I'm trying to fight those thoughts This is how a psycho talks I'm cut like that, so why throw salt I'll beat your a** then step on your gla**es, mazel tov It's not a threat No it's a promise and you hoes know it's d**h before dishonor Oh they sleeping on me now? Their narcoleptic soul, this tech will blow, they whole set can go pajamas My think tank is infested with piranhas Everybody else's dress code is Giuseppe I guess I'll go with Yves-Saint Lauren I'm the reason why your lady's been displaying odd behavior She said call her later, why? Cause I'm inside the broad head like Charles Xavier Thoroughbred millionaire with a billionaire mind state Flyin' down to MIA We at KOD, you throwing singles I'm throwing Stephenson's, Lances I call them that cause I blow em' in Bron's face Then leave them on the dancers Wait til' the lights come on, wave to a light come on Then leave and go to mansions But I'ma leave the rich n***a talk to those who put faith in the dollar and hold little grudges And I'ma move on and blow bigger budgets Talking in cold while thinking I'm cold, hoes really love it My old soul trying not to be the sober n***a judging In retrospect I was a different beast I switched the wine a few different times trying to slow down like "Let me sip and see" Thats not sobriety, thats a called a problem Thats like being inside a car that caught on fire and all you do is switch your seat And this is me, take me as I am Or leave me as you saw me where you liked me last Believe me that i'm sorry that your sorry a** can't comprehend these bars Through all these new cars and this viking mask This is the memory of the 20 year old version of me like my wifey's past The big fish in the small pond forever trying to calm down my big brothers pisces a** Telling me about these n***as talking about me and how come I bite my tongue I said "Bro these n***as is weak to me" I rather let them do all their wrong in the dark then have to right my sun Write my son, that sh** is deep to me Often with writing I be in awe when my thoughts are composed while laying song If I never would of took that first drink I probably would be playing the Game of Thrones With Marshall and Hov but this ain't no HBO season this is take your ho season In order to cheat d**h you gotta either respect me, friend me, or pray for your beating if theres tension between us And I sense that I'm swinging, I don't wait for no reason, I was raised by Cool J, Cube and Jesus You was raised by new shades, Fuse, and a pair of shoes made by yeezus Now beat it before I serve you immorally I'll show you that theres no correlation between murder and maturity I'm the Son of Greg, the child of God

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