Royce Da 5'9" - It's The New lyrics

Team invasion. Verse One: This ain't 'Ye it's more like Aids This ain't James it's more like a trade And you more like Wade And I ain't playin' I'm more like Cuban Not the cigar, Mark, introduce him "It's the new" - Beastie Boys "Best rapper alive" - Jay-Z [x4] Naw This ain't Wayne It's more like Pain And I ain't talkin' bout with T dash in front I'm more like needed rehab for months Hock and spew lyrics on Dr. Dru's spirit Until he has the mumps Drunk That's if I can put it in one word My n***as that ain't with all the drinkin', they want herb So even though the car plush The ashtray full of dark bu*ts Like we rollin' up lookin' for Yung Berg Top off b**h in the front Dolein' me up Till my rocks off Either that or she gonna get lock jaw Stop naw If she come up for air I cut her off like Jesse Jackson with a hand on Barack's balls Awe n***a it's me Jumper movie in the flesh straight from It-aly Five series, six series Benz's f** them little C's I'm on some ole Maino sh** Throw everything at you but the kitchen sink till I plug you It's goin' down I'm on some ole Draino sh** I'm the Rich Po, not so The flow spells gospel Book you for a show and turn your hotel to hos-pital (It's an invasion) This ain't Luda, it's more like shoota Better yet, +Shot Ya+ Pac or Big Poppa? Chorus: "It's the new" "Best rapper alive" [x4] Verse Two: This ain't Jay It's more like sprayed The kind that confuse kindness with po' like play My b**h got two midgets in the bra And a nose like a vacuum She did a lot of snow like Wade f** Forbes f** Money till they put some black heads them motherf**ers Like they come from pores Hip hop is alive My n***a come for yours I got the hood open, attached to jumper cords Alone in the mirror Rub a dub dub I ain't the game Even though I don't belong in this era I'm tryin' to take sh** past Nas, Jay, Shady & Dre sh** Shout out to the Doc I'm tryin' to find patience/patients Lookin' like I'm pacin' Like hello, say hello to me I elbowed my way into n***as conversations I don't write rhymes I commit d**h threats This my new name if you ain't guessed yet! Chorus Verse Three: Yeah, this ain't Fif It's more like a gift A bottle of Cris On side of a sip or a quality lick I'm the sh** You try to be sick I be ridin' with toddler's machine guns While you be tryin' to be temp I'm still hood I move minus the bus pa** I entered poverty in with the new deluxe pa** This black nina Told me I'm a black leader That's why I be preachin' like David Beckham Minus the mustache But I ain't runnin' from nothin' As long as rappers is runnin' They receive d**h from a sentence like capitol punishment The flows is mean I make a n***a lean Like putting the word "meth" Up in between the words "pro" and "azine" Your b**h bone right after my dick go fish I leave her numb like a tongue after a coke kiss I'm focused I spit madness You n***as is borin' You at a level orange with your b**h-a**-ness Plots is thickenin' And I care about rappers Bout as much as I care to see Janc and Roc 'C' bickerin' Raps is sickenin' Glocks is specifically hot I'm trippin' Is you with me or not? Chorus