Ding!

Lyrics

[Commercial Intro: Royce Da 5'9"] Yeah yeah Mic check, one two, one two, one two Yeah, turn me up a little bit Preem Yeah, mic check Mic check, one two, one two Yeah Yeah, yeah [Mixtape Intro: Royce Da 5'9" & DJ Premier] Yeah yeah Mic check, one two, one two, one two Yeah, turn me up a little [?] Yeah, mic check Word! The Bar Exam, I told you how it's goin down DJ Premier your host, Statik Selektah on the wheels of steel Royce 5'9", the artist Teaching you motherfuckers how to rhyme [Verse 1] I like to say I specialize in rhyming, you recognized in time I train till I'm in pain, I exercise my mind I effortlessly write, my weapons with me tonight So, please be aware of 'em Walk up in the fight club with eight ounce white gloves and leave with red ones Mood swing on the beat, soon as Preem prepares one Pick and choose my punches, walk away with minimal lumps Pivoting around the vocal booth in trunks Back you off me like a boxer, nigga I overuse the drum They call me Travis Barker with a chopper Knock away your tooth, do the rock-away or I will raise your roof Rest in peace to Proof He prolly rolling over in his grave, niggas poisoning his name The misfortunes of the fortune and the fame I'm too cocky to hit 5'9" and Preem, the new Rocky and Mick, the dollar signs go ding Preem, cut me [Chorus] Cut! This is where your heart at bitch Something you don't wanna battle with As if you don't notice Damn I'm great I don't like no fake niggas This is where your heart at bitch Something you don't wanna battle with Damn I'm great [Verse 2] They say this is a wise old profession So my flow is my whole confession I rhyme like applying cold compression You go away like swelling When pellets from the throw away is yelling At you near the doorway to hell or heaven Set me up, I know you've thought about it That means I gotta wet you up And I ain't talking with no water bottle Sit outside your house creeping Come out and (ugh) Spit out your mouth piece And I'll skid out to South Beach Fuck yo' talent, I'm never going down I'm a stand-up guy, yes I'm up for the challenge Up cause of balance From tying my shoe strings together when I was young and busting the cannon Your life is spun, the fight is done You've been iced out by the nicest one And I ain't talking about Jacob and Johnny the jeweler I'm talking bout letting the fakest hear the sound of the Ruger What you know about that? I know all about that Me and Tip feel the same Seeing tips feel the brain Is like watching a movie but I ain't make those I just make the credits roll after I'm Oliver Stone I'm the pedestal you stand on me I'mma flip you Pitbull, put your hands on me I'mma sic you It's true you not so hard, I'm sensing you puss As soon as you drop your guard, in comes the hook Preem, cut me [Chorus] Cut! This is where your heart at bitch Something you don't wanna battle with As if you don't notice Damn I'm great I don't like no fake niggas This is where your heart at bitch Something you don't wanna battle with Damn I'm great