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Royce Da 5'9 - Текст песни Wall Street
(feat. June the Great)
[Intro - Royce talking]
 You are now rocking to the sounds of my dawg. DJ Green Lantern
 Bar Exam 2 nigga. It's a motherfuckin' holiday bitches
 [Verse 1 - June the Great]
 I slang hope to the world like my name was Obama
 Shakin' hands with your father while I'm fuckin' yo momma
 Drama
 But I'ma say I'm in a league of my own
 Blowin' my own horn
 Horns of my cousin, Chevy in Texas
 I had to shout him out he's from the south
 Got pussy with me for my brother when he get out
 No doubt
 It goes one for the money
 Two for the show
 Three for the M.I.C. now let's go
 June's flow is pro
 Turn my speakers up louder
 Learn my shit
 Then recite it up in the shower
 No homo
 Yeah, peep my promo on behalf of the Bar Exam 2
 This is my message from me to you
 They'll probably be happy when I'm long gone
 But that'll never happen cause I got way too many songs
 MC's take note, but don't quote too much
 Find your own style and get 'mo in touch
 Plus
 Pussy make the world go round and mine spinnin' out of control
 Where I'ma stop, nobody knows
 You don't want me close to ya
 Scared I might roast ya
 But if I should stop, then who these streets gonna toast to?
 Here's the book of life, I just wrote you a new page
 Inspired by the beat, by the smell of my purple haze
 Hey, Grand River niggas up to no good
 June 1st
 I bring you all closer to my hood
 [Chorus]
 Wall Street
 Wall Street
 Yeah, yeah
 Uh huhRoyce Da 5'9 - Wall Street - http://ru.motolyrics.com/royce-da-59/wall-street-lyrics.html
 [Verse 2]
 My appetite for destruction
 My type to do the bustin'
 I eat the beat up like I got an appetite for percussion
 Lighten the mood like it's night and there's moonlight
 Platoon, high on them shrooms but this ain't no food fight
 Witch
 I could fly on a broom stick to my rude type
 My crew don't be 'bout no excuses, gesundheit
 God bless you, sneeze
 I'll wet you, sleeves
 Your arms ain't like ours yet, our recipe is...
 Beef on a platter
 Go on and chatter, it don't matter
 My cheese, I'm eatin' like I'm obese but only fatter
 I only know how to do it the Harriet Tub way
 I'm Underground like the Railroad, I'm prepared to get ugly
 My narrative thug day, can only compare me to drugs
 I take a nigga way from him like Jared from Subway
 You, could, never ever be on my level
 You don't know what you're in
 But you're in/urine guns like I took a pee on my metal
 Just me and my shuttle
 We fly
 We go together like my feet and my petal
 We ride
 How could I not be greatest?
 When I got Muhammad Ali boxin' inside me in Vegas
 Aye
 Haters
 I just wanna say this
 I know I'm underrated
 But I ain't under paid when it comes to makin'
 Money
 I'm so hot I feel like the son of Satan
 I'm so hot I feel like the sun is hatin'
 Your bitch
 Hhhhuhhhhuhhhh
 Breathin' like a hundred H's
 I am the reason for your under takin'
 There's only one equation
 And it equals I am the sum of greatness
 Yeah, yeah
 Uh huh











