Royce Da 5'9"

Royce Da 5'9" - In the presence of wolves lyrics

(feat. D-Elite)

[Royce Da 5'9"]

Yo Tre', you gon' spot me or what?

Let the games begin

Jah 5'9", where you at?

Round one (CHI-CHI GOT THE LLELLO!)

Yeah, real niggaz on the prowl, HOO!

You's in the presence of wolves, let go your goods

I smell your blood in my neck of the woods

Fuck around with us and get found on your neck in the woods

Give him respect in his hood, don't mess with his crew

Niggaz be, salty as pretzels when I'm in the Lex' and it's movin

Invadin and steppin in my shoes is a definite intrusion

I'm exceptionally cool, never expect to be under pressure

or rescued, definitely only sweat in the BOOTH

I'm officially fuckin you up with, nuttin but wit

A blizzard is frozen, hidden under the clothin

Listen, you lyrical nothin you, you touchin who?

When it was wrote, you spit it, you thought you ripped it you loved it

It's like, the sun is above us when the wrist is uncovered

Like, all you gon' spit is blood or kick is the bucket

Like – 99 percent of you niggaz that rhyme SUCK!

This is, the point of no return, I'm stuck

[Tre' Little]

Yo, yo you fuck-head niggaz ain't makin gangsta music

I make music for gangstas, it's therapeudic

You wild out to it, let the guns go too

Spittin out, skeet out, smoke a blunt to it (ERRR!)

Fake niggaz don't dare, it's too real

Have you doin drive-bys on my command, NOW KILL! (UHH!)

Go on, sniff the chi-chi, rock along with me

It goes - guns, murder murder live in Rock City

You knowwww - don't let you get beside yourself

It's just a, terrible thing to just lose your health

Look wrong, don't speak, just lose your wealth

That's the truth baby boy - shhh, quiet as kept

They games we play, official titty bars and rims

Blowin money on pussy, you can probably steal

Drink so much alcohol, shit, liver like steel

That's they way that I am; light, slim but still

[Cut Throat]

I feel the heat around the corner but I can't see smoke

Feel it comin in the night, no lights no coats

They say it's cold out here, I know how that feel

No help when you down, well reality ill

See the life and the lights on connected with crime

Wanna bang out these rhymes but can't say street times

What you about the struggle of what Cut go through?

When niggaz tryin to grind, what won't they do?

It's do or die baby, y'all all alone

No hoes, just your soul, and a heart this cold

Gotta, stay away; don't let your, spirit break

More, moves to make might not, be your fate

Get Cut Throat on these pussies, that's the ride I took

Last gangsta left standin in a room full of crooks

If it's poppin come the fuck on, let's handle this now

My soliders stratigize, that's how we get down

[Billy Nix]

Look at my life, I'm dead, gunshots over my head

I - sleep on the streets, gunshots over my bed

Carryin unnecessary weight, envy and hate

X-Government Agent, enemy of the state

Death, covers the pavement, tecs under your waist

Limited aim, unlimited range, niggaz erase

Slow down, you gettin on now, your name is mentioned

In and outta the game, fame done stained your vision

As light shines you niggaz just write rhymes

Confined in light time combined with mental dead bitches

The black man just tryin to get ahead witchu

Open your eyes 'fore some dumb nigga with lead hits you (uhh)

I speak peace cause peace is relevant

Continuous struggle for betterment, war with inner self

Fightin with the inner beast, wantin whores and cuties

that shows around the globe during my time of duty

Devils can't kill me, niggaz can't stop me

Listen and learn, witness the return of the mock D

Death is a funny thing - you can die, bein broke

or you can die from the drama that gettin money bring

[Royce Da 5'9"]

AH-ROO! Mic's up, lights out

Real niggaz on the prowl

Still drink if it ain't mines

(Real niggaz) Throw up drinks like gang signs

Mic's up, lights out

Yeah, r-real niggaz on the prowl

Still drink if it ain't mines

(Real niggaz) Throw up drinks like gang signs

Yeah, X-Gov, Tre' Little

Cha Cha, B.O., 5'9", yeah

Yo, CHI-CHI GOT THE LLELLO! {*echoes*}

Yeah yeah, Wall Street, yeah yeah yeah

Yo, yo, real niggaz throw up drinks like gang signs

AH-ROO! Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Drink if it ain't mines

Real niggaz throw up drinks like gang signs

Mic's up, lights out

Yeah, AH-ROO! (CHI-CHI GOT THE LLELLO!)

AH-ROO! [fades out]

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