Paranoia

(feat. LA the Darkman)

Call it Paranoia. Yea
Every day is war. Every day, 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
nigg* you ever saw, been never thug, never had a problem
And the s**t he never starts, sickest artist there ever was
nigg* found dead in his house, don't know who did it
Yea, you bet it was me, die at the pavement
I'm wavin a nine out of the window and blazin
Is your house shakin
who's inside nigg*, it's funeral time nigg*
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 nigg*

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 nigg* *I'm at war*
I'm Paranoid, always on point
Always holding nigg*, 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 a**hole, full of s**t
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 fker in forensics
I got, two dependants, I gotta make it home
Clean get-away, two bullets through your dome
Is locked nigg*.

Chorus - La the Darkman

Royce Da 5'9" - spoken word
And that's just how the story goes y'all
Any nigg* where I'm from already knows
Funny, my homie cuz said gon' bring you a bowl of soup when you sick
But if you die, then gonna love you later
Think you a fkin statue or some s**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