Royce da 5'9", eLZhi, Black Milk - Real Hip Hop lyrics

Mr porter has asked me to warn you that
This next joint may harm your speakers

If this ain't real hip hop nigga
Tell me what it is then
Walking sci-fi cyborg, my image is
Napalm, translation, you tampon bleed
Like the opposite of mankind
Tryna put your hands on my damn rod
You might as well handstand on a land mine
If I ain't bout that, let adversity hurt me
Like if I ain't bounce back
All I do is count stacks
You can't put me and flames in the same quote
Beast on the track
Me and Usain Bolt in the same boat
Mention me and lightning in the same volt
Crqckers amphibian, I'm a handful
Guns give you suntans like a Pakistan Indian
Pop shit quick enough to snatch a fly out
The air with some fuckin' chopsticks
Uh uh uh nigga, who hotter than me?
I'm on a million dollar-AK-hollering spree
(Nickel)

If this ain't raw shit, then nigga
I'm lost in the game
And that means everyone remains comin'
With that soft shit this is that dark flow
Caught up in the alley walking
Like "Losing Out Pt 2" without Alan Parsons
Take precaution, the percussion is danger
These niggas feelin' anger, like ever
Since we came up, ugh
My circle always come prepared
While other cats is like a plaid shirt: All
I see is a bunch of squares
Have a bunch of Leers out in London on stage
Watching hands to the ceiling while
Rocking in front of fans
Yeah, we so in here, so advanced
So far into the future
Copping grands, these niggas won't comprehend
This game looks wide open in my eyes
So, of course, I took it and
Ran with it like a baton, ch-ch
And passed it to my fam, the legacy lives on
Fuck being a hundred deep
We're trying to be a mil' strong

If this ain't hip hop
Like Dickies and flip-flops
Or Phillies and Timbos
The Willies with trimmed fros
Ya'll silly as bimbos and hillbillies
Still illy with them flows
My skill really shine like gemstones
In Beverly Hills, feel me?
New sheriff in town
The flair with the sounds
Since rap was lost in the mainstream
But who care if it drowns?
My brain scheme is complex like the magazine
Swagger's mean like gan-related
Rags and jeans tag a scene, smack machines
Make the maggots lean
I drag machines like blunts from
Outta bags of green
On Dud's stash! So playa I
Pull the stud's math
Those in power get golden
Showers and bloodbaths in shit'storms
I spit thorns and pierce through
The nearest crew, who never
Knew I was fierce, but
Fear is true with the clearest view
They grim and hate
And imitate what they hear us doin'
Immolate, I'll demonstrate how
Their spear flew to higher ground and came
Down like a parachute
For fucking with me, Royce, Black, and June
We'll lay you on your back
In the black lagoon
If this ain't real Hip-Hop
What the fuck is it then?