royce da 59 – state your name lyrics
(d-elite. state your naaaame, gangsta!)
[tre’ little]
c’mon, tre’ little don status, hold my d-ck
say ya label push the date back, now that’s what you get
i came in this game like it’s more than rap (c’mon)
dog, i’m tryin to destroy the salary cap
the source is happy we came six covers, it’s covered
that’ll last about may, june, well into the summer
why talk about different colors for various coupes
sh-t green, fart blue, ooh clever you
help me ma, i’ll take a shot at any one of y’alls
got mami droppin drawers before the first phone call
we some gangstas, study the “ten crack commandments”
stay +big+, and worship “hail mary”, that’s how we live
lay low good guys, catch you with a hook i
know why you lie, ya crew ain’t quite like mine
spit it like ooh my, these labels like ooh my
(state your naaaame, gangsta!)
[cha cha]
it’s the c-h-a, say it with me n-gg-z
cha cha cha, y’all cha cha cha
you cannot lie or deny these n-gg-z ain’t rah-rah
put the barrel on the bridge of your nose and turn you c-ck-eyed
steppin to us not wise, told you how to get live
go in depth best with the finger next to the index
such threats expect five guys, five tecs
make they gats all sing in unison like a quintet
they don’t say whodi, son, dunn, or young’n
you can owe ’em and say hi and they greet you like “hey guy”
whattup though nickel, jah, tre’, x, and cut throat
my brethrens all veterans all throwin up sevens
when we rock hits to the sky throw ’em up to the heavens
us and crews clash no more, we built the rapport
me and royce here to restore what we were buildin before
so add a million sold or more is when i get at you wh-r-s, uh-huh
(state your naaaame, gangsta!)
[cut throat]
cut throat, the livin threat street sh-t the blueprint
the guideline rappers sideline until they buy mine
them little guns y’all blow, i stay on the low (uhh)
rap like this and work the scale like so (uhh)
take it to the gutter, we could duke or shoot it out
switchblades pump gauge, whatever you about
burn you to ya hood, we could bang for the work
for the buildings or the blocks do the thang to the dirt
i’m a f-ck-in fool, crews duck and move
stay in a f-cked up mood, one f-cked up dude
when it’s hot i, breathe in the heat, don’t even sleep
i, be knee-deep in the beats that made me
a certified gangsta specialize in duct tape
let you know how many fo’-five slugs your gut take
show your favorite thug how to be a thug, top that n-gg-
turn your favorite drug into another drug, cop that n-gg-
(state your naaaame, gangsta!)
[jah 5’9″]
jah da 5’9″ speak and shake rhyme great, history’s made
the street gangsta city flow race against time
never sign for cash, my hustle’s the sh-t {-whoosh-}
you feel the breeze push past, you get a grip
millennium game, earth tone keep it in range
close to the grave i rock, fake n-gg-z shouldn’t doubt us
surrounded by crooks, full clips and fine weed
choice clothes, on my bossi, and fine hoes
long nights, bust those in small cris’
n-gg-z playin themselves for thinkin we rhyme alike
how would you fight me, i’m like ten families strong
manipulation by song, relate to it n-gg-z
henny on the rocks toast to the real, in god we trust
calm gladiator, song navigator
them whole blocks got a story to tell
all of a sudden seasons change, you’re welcome
(state your naaaame, gangsta!)
[billy nix]
billy nix, black man is here, listen close
spittin, just to n-gg-z, x address the n-gg-z
most n-gg-z don’t see right, see light like it’s darkness
no guns in sight, no might for the heartless
we run ya mics, you write like you’re r-t-rded
no offense but your flow’s slow and dense
i know my n-gg-z hearin the d, ya smellin this
you spoke that which you wrote while broke yellin rich
didn’t know, you shoulda spoke while broke sayin poor
then biggie up, “kick in the door,” play it some more
this is the evolution of emceein, who dissin us?
gettin rah, stick up n-gg-, hand me ya listeners
get a job we here, d-elite, touch it
matter fact, n-gg-z is wack, wall street f-ck it
x government agent remember yo’ name, remember yo’ game
you n-gg-z won’t be spittin the same, motherf-cker
(state your naaaame, gangsta!)
my god!
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