RZA, Childish Gambino, Hypnotic Brass Ensemble - American Royalty lyrics

Digital, Childish Gambino
Mixtape demonstrations

This Oxycontin carbon monox'
And toxic concoction
Collapse your brain cells
They swell from lack of oxygen
Leave the opposition stuck
Without a pot to piss in
Hockin', spitting up blood
Shark by sharp precision
Dart incision, darkness imparts your vision
Sparks infliction (Poof) I'm a mad magician
Verbal plasma, verbal scatter
Words that shatter every atom in your body
Now you're anti matter
Ripping through the data
Checked into the doctor
Took his rhyme splatter
Cause my mind's faster
You falling down to ground
While I climb the ladder
Too much garbage in your gallbladder
Fall flatter on your face
Now you carry by the pall-bearer
Or wear the black suit, eyes all teared up
Oh no, when your ho make a boss lit up
We in the rib with a smirk nigga
All geared up
Childish Gambino or Bobby Digi'lino
On the tracks
We breaking more backs that Sammartino, Bruno
We saw more baselines than Juno
Change more law in New York than Mr cuomo
Godfather novels I write like Mario Puzo
Master time fix the clocks like I'm Hugo
Hold the weight like nine sumos
Bust shots like John Lugo
You know how the Wu go

Look sharp, homie give yourself a facelift
High brow, eyebrows on a spaceship
Take sips of that Ace of Spades-es
Saving all my money just to
Waste on a bracelet can't see them haters
We don't give a fuck though
Charge it to the game
Keep a lame so cutthroat
Never slip a fast one
The game is so in front of me
Travel 'round the globe
Spend and make 'bout a 100 G's
Pack them crowds up, boss like Bowser
Deep pocket poetry, my custom trousers
Thank God they found us
The game was starvin'
I'm clean and concrete, you ass and Charmin
Bobby Digital
Do you really think these niggas know shit?
Shopping in Manhattan and I ran
Into my old chick
Pride is a bitch, I am not a grown up
Tweetin' when I'm 70
These half-dead followers
She look like she Spelman
Secretly she Hofstra put her in the club
All she wanna hear is Waka
Put her in the crib
All she wanna hear is Waka
She jerk when I move like
Her old boy popped her
Home is that Outkast, soul like I'm Phonte
Old-school J's like Beyoncé's fiancé
Back on my dumb shit, nigga we the stupidest
Gave them niggas real shit
Don't know what to do with it
I did what I did man
Did you really see it though?
'Bino hard and fast, niggas Sweet'N Low
American Royalty, family loyalty
We cream of the crop why
The fuck would we stop?
She had two sons: both of 'em good grades
Both of 'em rap songs
Where did she go wrong?
Nowhere mama, we just go where the money at
Black Kennedy, where the fuck you niggas at