Lyrics Fuck a Hook - Royce da 5′9″ feat. Sucka Free & Kid Vishis
[Royce
Da
5'9"]
DJ's
and
MC's
Comin
up
next
is
the
incredible
We
takin
it
back
to
the
beats
and
the
RHYYYYYYYYYMES...
5-9
is
BACK,
about
to
make
a
nigga
spin
on
his
BACK
Not
on
a
cardboard,
on
the
ground
with
people
surroundin
Lookin
down
at
him
lookin
astounded
Ready
to
draw
around
him;
an
outline
of
his
body
in
chalk
form
This
nigga
here
let
the
trigger
talk
for
him
His
niggaz'll
bark
for
him,
for
real,
his
heart's
warm
So
you've
been
warned
(GO
GO
GO
GO
GO
GO
GO
GO
GO
GO.)
I
don't
even
need
to
be
drunk
forever,
the
liquor
is
rootin
me
on
I
turn
tables
fast
as
Jam
Master
Jay
do
I'm
N.W.A.,
I
choke
hoes
like
Dre
Poke
holes
in
the
pavement,
throw
foes
in
the
grave
If
you
could
choose
between
a
broke
nose
or
the
A.K.
I
make
movies
like
Cube
'cept
I
use
hammers
YEP!
I
shoot
but
I
don't
do
it
with
cameras
NOPE!
So
you
can
call
me
Malcolm
You
can
all
witness
what
I
be
doin
to
all
of
these
rappers
(yes!)
Wit'chall
sloppy
tactics;
don't
try
to
copycat
me
If
you
ain't
tryna
box
me
back
And
watch
your
back,
don't
take
another
look
into
the
eyes
Of
a
nigga
that's
willin
to
ride
'til
he
blind
(Fuck
a
hook.
fuck
a
hook)
Chk-chk-chk,
Royce.
5.
9.
(he's
baaaaack)
Yeah,
and
it's
on
(Fuck
a
hook.
fuck
a
hook.
fuck
a
hook)
Chk-chka-chka-chka,
I
will
rhyme
all
day
YES!
I'll
show
you
the
back
of
your
brain
Slap
you
with
the
back
of
the
gun
Clap
you
when
the
rappin
is
done
I
aim
to
hit,
I
pack
macs,
accurate
ones
Change
the
clip,
I
send
rappers
back
where
they
from
Changin
fast,
the
game
I
ask
is
not
a
sport
I'm
tired
of
bein
a
fuckin
day
late
and
a
dollar
short
And
I'm
back!
All
of
you
rap
niggaz
hide
your
mics
I'm
ridin,
dyin,
and
I
ain't
flyin
by
on
them
bikes
I'm
walkin,
talkin,
you
eye
me
you
dyin
tonight
This
iron
is
showin
you
the
shine
designed
by
Christ
And
I,
am
the
head
reaper
about
the
sick
shit
You
about
to
see
dead
people
without
the
"Sixth
Sense"
And
yeah,
takin
food
off
my
mother's
table'll
Get
you
killed
regardless,
like
my
brother's
label
My
heart
and
arteries
a
part
of
me,
that'll
test
the
truest
We
can
do
it,
put
your
vest
into
it,
yeah
(Fuck
a
hook.
fuck
a
hook.
fuck
a
hook)
Chka-chka-chk,
you
don't
wanna
play
with
him
today
Yea
- NO!
Yeah,
hardcore!
Rhymes
galore!
OHH!
Givin
you
what
you
need
Like
I
told
you
BEFOOOOOOOOOOORE.
Yeah,
the
rap
game
is
DEAD,
I'm
bout
to
breathe
life
in
it
Bring
it
back
to
when
niggaz
was
cypherin
Yeah,
back
in
the
DAY,
when
nobody
needed
radio
play
I
was
straight
long
as
my
radio
played
tapes
And
this
went
on
before
all
of
them
pay
dates
We
was
backflippin
and
windmillin
to
save
face
These
days,
we'll
give
you
the
mac
so
stay
in
your
place
I
hope
before
you
lay
on
your
back,
you
sayin
your
grace
(pray!)
These
new
cats
that
rap
to
me
they
groupies
You
never
see
'em
in
Max
Julius
or
them
Guccis
Or
they
woulda
got
robbed
for
them
Diadores
Or
the
Gazelles,
we
the
store,
we
take,
we
sell
your
Items
we
took,
have
you
goin
to
tell
We
crooks,
we
either
goin
pro
or
goin
to
jail
I
know
I'ma
spare
- many
lifes
This
rap
shit
is
comin
with
ME,
cause
don't
nobody
know
how
to
share
(Fuck
a
hook.
fuck
a
hook.
fuck
a
hook)
Chka-chka...
("Get
in
your
mind,
get
in
your
mind
Get
in
your
mind
all
day!")
Album
M.I.C. (Make It Count)
1 Buzz
2 Nickel
3 Jump
4 Stand Up
5 Gone in 30 Seconds
6 On the Road
7 Switch
8 Hit You (Street Games)
9 52 Bars
10 Basic Rap
11 Fuck a Hook
12 Dope
13 No Talent Rappers
14 Back in the Days
15 Brothers Keeper
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