Royce da 5'9" - Can't Tell Me Nothing Freestyle lyrics

I had a dream I could buy my way to heaven
Roll dice and put that on a seven
I told god I'll be back in a second
Man it's so hard not to act reckless
Hip hop's alive I ain't feelin' it
Look me in my eyes and tell
Me I ain't killin' it
Man how could I be the villain
When I turn right around and
Revive what I'm killin'
So when I rhyme niggas feel it
No more beef I had to
Throw mine in the skillet
Just ask Nas who he feelin'
Macgyver's mind I got supplies on the ceiling
That's when I heard a friend say
Life is but a hyphen
Bottled up inbetween that begin and end date
Scribbled on that tombstone
Nigga you'll be soon gone
Nigga's will just move on
I see behind your days
I thought all I had to do was pull
The pen out and blow the fuck up
Didn't know they were squeezing my grenade
The politics is out of it Nickle out of jail
Now nigga's start apologin'
Acknowledgin' Solomon
Jesus, hotter than a fever
Nigga shot at me guarantee I
Got even as a season nigga this is D's up
With the red and green cuffs
Gucci on the boy
Boy nigga you ain't seen plush
We did the suicide doors
You're trying to do the villa
With the suicide floors
It's like I'm who decides war
A coward dies a thousand times
You should die more
Six million ways you can get it when
You diss me in them lyrics
Nigga you decide yours
I'm in the house by the beaches
I never look inside a mans
Mouth while he eatin'
I know the south's trying to keep it
The game is to be sold without tryna lease it
Without sounding preachish
Y'all doing y'all dirt and y'all
Trying to sweep it
Under your monies a tall sign of weakness
Y'all signing don't make your
Hard body y'all hymen
Labia made glittery glittery shells
Jewel's are the forbidden fruit
When the bitter rebels
I never seen a dead hand inside a purse
I never seen an armored car
That follows a hearse
Imagine if the game died and
We got it a shirt
Good more is good more and russle
The side of it's worse for unto whom
So ever much is given of him shall
Be much required 'til his luck expires
Nah I ain't a prophet but
I'm happy you asked me
From shackled to my past to freedom
Make way the profit's
That's why you find me in the latest outfit
While it's childish
Grown ups try to find a way to stop it
Cause once the Cournel get it on and poppin'
I spit coke the eight ball's
In the corner pocket
I'm a monster like Swizz is
Y'all full of shit like my clip is
Round up to slap or shock
A nigga like TIP did
But no apologies for shit did
Cause y'all too wound up
I'll go against a nigga cause the wind blow
Keep that hole between your ears
And your chin closed
Po boy bow to a dope boy
Five-Nine bottom line y'all are
Not a inch mo'
Groupie couldn't walk a mile in these Gucci's
Couldn't sniff the in sole stick to king Cole
Your very being is a journal
Your that flow in this rap
Show of the eternal la, la, la la
Niggas can't take our money home
La, la, la la
So we spend it's like nothing, right
Excuse me, did you saying something?
Uh uh, you can't tell me nothing
I'm the best you can't tell me nothing
What bitch, you can't tell me nothing