Royce da 5'9", Crooked I - On Fire lyrics

This is true! Militant mind state
And the villains concealing the 9, wait
It's a zoo
I'm chilling with primates, I'm a fool
You feeling it? I ain't, play gorilla
I'm real as the crime rate
So, cool, my right jabs on the right track
It'll slide you sideways go get your ice pack
That's what the fights bought, bing
Punch your lights out
Go pay your utility bill get your sight back
(huh?)
All I got is a bunch of weaponry everywhere
When I was a kid I used
To machete my teddy bear
Friday the 13th? Nah, nigga was never scared
Sleeping on Elm Street if somebody
Tell me Freddy there (yeah)
See I'm a whole 'nother animal
With a mechanical trap jaw, highly flammable
Soon as this cannibal track y'all
I split your cantaloupe
Hannibal Lecter with a hacksaw, I rap raw
Go in the zone till I'm outside of my body
Your body get outlined in white powder
When bullets come outside of the shotty (ha)
Try to hide in your hotel
I'll Al-Qeada your lobby
Then I'll smile at your hotty
Put a ride on my side
Like Clyde riding with Bonnie
Check out the way I pimp, mami, after
My snake charm her, she get wet
Now I'm folding paper (paper)
That's Swami, tsunami and origami (yeah)
Yes, the best ever! I'm hot as West weather
When you dressed in your sweater
Vest and you best leather
I pull buttons and press levers
I'm backwards
As a dyslexic letter, jet setter, et cetera
Catch you boy on planet COB
Go fuck yourself give your hand a job!
Like Nickel 9's brother, the kid's Vishis
I own half a beauty salon
So you know I'm with
Splitting the wig business (Whoo)

I got a big dick, bitch! (What?)
That ain't no punchline, I just
A got big dick, bitch!
'Bout big business, Slaughterhouse!
You and your clique gettin' with this
Y'all at the movies wearing blindfolds
Get it?
That means you ain't seeing the big picture
I find irony in being
The headed rapper decapitating
I'll get Rihanna on a track and
Won't even rap on it
Just let her moan to the
Song while I'm masturbating
You the best rapper? Homie congratulations!
I'd rather be known for
Felonious ratchet waving
You deep, we deeper
But we married to these streets but
We don't jump brooms
We just carry streetsweepers
Hell yeah! Detroit baby? I'm felt there
Leave a brain elsewhere
It's the name on the card
To my health care, I'm hard, you facades
Piss me off
I put your thoughts on your broad
You fucking screamer
Later with your tough demeanor
Ya fruit, I V8 juice your fucking team up!
Give me 50 feet! (come on)
Why you acting all brand new? 50's teeth
Got the bullets looping, I pull
It, the clip repeats, without the DJ
I got more gunshots in the Glock - than
Whoo Kid got in that instant replay
Ooh, you thought that was a diss to Fif'?
Then you stupider than Muslims looking
For gifts on Christmas
Clip-out, 'bout to stick my dick in
The hole in the handle
How you gon' walk a mile in my shoes?
I'm walking on water in
Moses and Hova sandals giving boxers
The opposite of going commando!
That's right, I put a bunch
Of boxers on your ass, boy
I'm fly, Boeing is my handle
I'm from the metropolitan rock bottom
If I spot 'em, i got 'em
She wanted to swallow when I shot it
But that's not my problem
She's your wife she just my concubine and
She like to holla Ryan while I'm behind
It like she my momma mind it
Willing to get more physical
Than the lacrosse team
Blunt so big look like we just
Rolled up the Swamp Thing
I'm high feeling like I should be higher
I ride like Michael Myers
Wire ride like a bike with no tires!
No case to fight with no priors
Say good night
Nickel 9 and Crooked I's on fire

That's right what up, E-Love?