Note: This is the video version of the song. I'll soon have the
album version ready.

*ticking sounds*
Uh!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
tick tick tick, yeah! 5'9'' uh...
Yo...

I'm the verbal spit Smith Wesson
I unload with a sick spit that quick wick to split a split-second
Bomb with a lit wick expression
You here a tick tick when you testing...
My saliva and spit can split thread into fiber and bits
So trust me, I'm as live as it gets
Everybody clamin the best and 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
Wined up in a room full of my dogs
I have you feelin like a fire hydrant in a room full of dogs
So come come now
Get pissed on, shitted on
Tough talk turns into "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 gun shot in your song
My gun strrr-utters when it speeks to you
Utter shit to repeat to you
Nothing to clip then give a speak you you
Me and Premier, we kinda 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 clicks I'll probably rap circles around
I'm the next best to reach you
Peak formely known as the best kept secret
I guess that I just leaked it...

Chorus:
Boom!
Somebody better duck or run
Somebody better (huch up this spot to blow, oh)
Royce 5'9''

I'm a motherfuckin star
I don't battle no mo'
I provide the guns clappin around of applause after the show
We can go toe-to-toe cuz ain't callin you hot
Steppin around all you punches like "That's all you got?"
Everyday I'm meetin somebody and all of they peeps
Quick to shake a niggas hand and show me all of they teeth
And these bitches I'll be patting their asses so stay ??
Dumb and goggle-eyed lookin at me, batting their 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 talkin, it's over
I was knockin niggas out while you were knockin
Stick off 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 follow
Bring the police to the studio and bring the bomb squad to the show
Ain't a nigga touchin mines
When you listen to my shit you don't chew, you don't breathe,
You don't miss a fuckin line
Everytime I spit, I tick to show you it hot
Leave me in the deck too long I blow up your box
Boom!

Royce 5'9''

Chorus

Royce...5'9''

Reporter: Recording line from station 37, we got a ?? named
Royce da 5'9'' who has a bomb planted in him. It can blow up in any second...

Royce 5...
*explosion*
*ticking sounds*