เนื้อเพลง Paranoia - Royce Da 5'9"

Call it Paranoia. Yea
Every day is war. Every day, n*ggaz is gon' hate
Gotta move

[Royce Da 5'9"]
I'm a walking target
I'm so far from soft, I'm probably close to the hardest
n*gga you ever saw, been never thug, never had a problem
And the sh*t he never starts, sickest artist there ever was
N*gga found dead in his house, don't know who did it
Yea, you bet it was me, n*ggaz die at the pavement
I'm wavin a nine out of the window and blazin
Is your house shakin
who's inside n*gga, it's funeral time n*gga
They die from straight hits, pride wasted
Cry your face, I ain't your suit and your tie
Now look what you made us
Look at the witnesses, all of them look shakin
And alls they seen was the back of a green car with the plate flipped
Look at the news, I did it without puttin a hit out own
You homies in chrome, watch that n*gga

[Chorus: Royce]
I got my back, because it's my gat
And my mouth that *Started the War*
Lookin around me, got a gun on my lap
while I'm drivin, taking the back routs *Home*
If your headlights is in my rearview
For longer than three lights, and I don't know you
I'ma pull over, And I might shoot you
You should go around me, and don't look at me
'Till after you pass me, cuz I might blast you n*gga *I'm at war*
I'm Paranoid, always on point
Always holding n*gga, always sober. Call it paranoia

[LA the Darkman]
In your bushes, on the side of your house
Waitin to smoke you when come in from hangin out
Friday night, perfect, I timed it just right
I know you at the club cuz your car is nowhere in sight
I'm like the DC sniper, Mr. Malvo
Strategically precise when I squeeze the cali-co
You look like a asshole, full of sh*t
N*ggaz sure to get hit, when my fo-fo spit
Black shirt, black jeans, black boots, black whip
Black mask, paif of black leather gloves for my grip
I don't need no print, a killer with a plan
Makin sure I dont get, gunpowder on my hands
All drama I'ma end it, murder game splended
Leavin all crews for the f*cker in forensics
I got, two dependants, I gotta make it home
Clean get-away, two bullets through your dome
Is locked n*gga.

[Chorus - La the Darkman]

[Royce Da 5'9" - spoken word]
And that's just how the story goes y'all
Any n*gga where I'm from already knows
Funny, my homie cuz said n*ggaz gon' bring you a bowl of soup when you sick
But if you die, then gonna love you later
Think you a f*ckin statue or some sh*t
God bless these streets, God bless these streets right now
I'ma just be doing my thing so maybe, you know, I could show you how
Don't come lookin for trouble, cuz you just might find it
Don't stand too close to me, I'm always on point, never blinded