Royce Da 5’9″ – FUBU Lyrics

FUBU By Royce Da 5’9″

I am that n—-, it’s obvious
These n—– broke, on their pickpockets watching us
They see the watch and this jewelry we rocking
Get sick to their stomach, now they try to plot on us
They know this extendo we got on us
Can’t name a time when it’s not on us
Hope they try robbing us
So they can go back and tell n—– about all these bullets they got from us
I let that blocker on low, I put that pot on the stove
Yeah, now these CDs the only product I sold
Fans in Berlin going out of control
Yeah, I f— a lot of new hoes
Penthouse on top of the Lowes, Versace my robe
What’s in my pocket, a knot I can’t fold
Make sure my Gelato was robed
Uh, I am on a whole another level than you
Uh, my grandma used to say “boy, you got the devil in you”
F— around, get some metal in you
My name ring bells, I could sell out whatever venue

For us, by us
For us, by us
For us, by us
For us, by us
(For you), by us
(For you), by us
(For you), by us

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I’m tired of hearing about what all these rappers’ll do
First of all, none of y’all can last in the booth
I don’t know what’s faster, your wounds turning black or to blue
The media’ll slap or the sue
Step to a n—- just to step on a n—-
Sounds easier to me than counting backwards from two
Bring the hood peace, you expect it by the Benzes
Shell catch an iron, you ain’t pressured by forensics
Half of you n—– rhyming transgenic
You sure got ’em questioning how you meant it
I transcend, forever monumented
Not even Netflix could document it
My son got autism from injections by syringes
These nerds ain’t warriors, we heard the same story and
You n—– blowing whistles at Hurricane Dorian
Blowing missiles back to the word of vainglorious
You sissy
N—-, this is for us by us
Why you put yours up? I put up my cup
Survivors of systems meant to divide us
You only can afford what you could buy five of
You a fool in a war with the faint of hearts
I’ll let the two encores take your brain apart
I’m at the Louvre on the floor by the hanging art
I’m putting numbers on the board like a game of darts
Product of every single blood freckled Timberland
Buy up every building in the projects to contemporary art deco every tenement
My consigliere is marked echo every sentiment
Cop a hundred rides, park ’em all in one garage
Money on my mind like Rocky thunder thighs
Everybody, everybody friends like they from Milan
Till they in a hole in a line like the number nine
Long hours of perfecting this, 9-7 s—
Spitting seeds left of shells of pistachios on the keys of the Casios, it’s the evidence
Bearing my soul, DiCaprio from The Revenant
Phantom looking haunted like a hayride
Camera on the trunk like the one from my prayers
And you know how I do
Put the beef behind me to put your soul behind you like De La
Twin white Maybachs
Steering wheel wood when I’m floating through the hood like sailors
Couldn’t be cut like me if you had ten tailors
Put the wifey in a black bent Bentayga
Judge can’t exonerate, violate
Got a mansion by the lake, got a maid Consuela
I was fly even when I was a damn lie
I was flying standby ’cause of how I expand mics
Triple threat, b—-, I make the track and write
The judge can’t give me life, b—-, I am life
You a algorithm
You n—– everything the culture isn’t
I don’t coach the visit
I don’t get into the social digits
I just smoke distribute
Microorganism live in my colloquialism

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