[Intro]

Ugh

Boom, boom

Tick-tick-tick

Yeah

5'9", ugh

Yo

[Verse 1]

I'm the verbal-spit Smith Wesson

I unload with sick spit, the quick wit could split a split-second

Bomb with a lit wick expression

You hear a "tick-tick" then you testin'

My saliva and spit could split thread into fiber and bits

So trust me, I'm as live as it gets

Everybody claim they the best and they head the throne since B.I.G is gone

If you ask me, they "Dead Wrong"

My flow is hotter than the flash from the click

When the hammer slaps the bullet on the ass from the clip

You wind up in a room full of my dogs

I'll have you feeling like a fire hydrant in a room full of dogs

So come, come, now, get pissed on, shitted on

Tough talk turns to, "Can't we all just get along?"

You get blazed when the mic's off, shot when it's on

You probably ducked when they laid the gunshot in your song

My gun st-stutters when it speaks to you

Utter shit to repeat to you

'Nough in the clip, to give a speech to you

Me and Premier, we kind of the same in ways

We both speak with our hands in dangerous ways

Rap now is a circus of clowns

A whole lot of lip from cliques I'd probably rap circles around

I'm the next best to reach a peak

Formerly known as the best kept secret—I guess that I just leaked it

[Chorus]

"Tragic like the havoc of a nuclear bomb"

"Boom, boom, bap, Goddamn"

"Royce 5'9""

"Tragic like the havoc of a nuclear bomb"

"Boom, boom, bap, Goddamn"

"Royce 5'9""

[Verse 2]

I'm a motherfucking star, I don't battle no more

I provide the gun-clapping round of applause after your show

And we could go toe-to-toe 'cause they calling you hot

Stepping around all your punches, like, "That's all you got?"

Every day, I'm meeting somebody and all of they peeps

Quick to shake a nigga's hand and show me all of they teeth

And these bitches—I be patting they asses

They be all dumb and googly-eyed looking at me, batting they lashes

Rappers think Detroit niggas not as down as them

Or since that I'm down with Slim that I sound like him

Quick to judge me and tell me that my hook might sell

And say faggot shit to me like I look like L

My advice: Quit talking, it's over

I was knocking niggas out when you was knocking sticks off of their shoulders

I got dirt done in my past, I know y'all sweat

I got regrets older than some of you so-called "vets"

Niggas say I found God with the flow

Bring the police to the studio and bring the bomb squad to the show

Ain't a nigga touching mines

When you listen to my shit, you don't chew, you don't breathe, you don't miss a fucking line

Every time I spit, I tick to show you it's hot

Leave me in the deck too long, I blow up your box—boom!

[Chorus]

"Tragic like the havoc of a nuclear bomb"

"Boom, boom, bap, goddamn"

"Royce 5'9""

"Tragic like the havoc of a nuclear bomb"

"Boom, boom, bap, goddamn"

"Royce 5'9""

"Boom, boom, bap, goddamn"

"Royce 5'9""

"Boom, boom, bap, goddamn"

"Royce 5'9""

"Boom, boom, bap, goddamn"

"Royce 5'9""