Hypnotic Bra** Ensemble - American Royalty lyrics

[Produced by Childish Gambino] [Intro: RZA] Digital. Childish Gambino Mixtape demonstrations [Verse 1: RZA] This Oxycontin carbon monox' and toxic concoction Collapse your brain cells, they swell from lack of oxygen Leave the opposition stuck, without a pot to piss in Hockin', spitting up blood, shark by sharp precision Dart incision, darkness imparts your vision Sparks infliction, (Poof) I'm a mad magician Verbal plasma, verbal scatter, words that shatter Every atom in your body, now you're anti-matter Ripping through the data, checked into the doctor Took his rhyme splatter, cause my mind's faster You falling down to ground, while I climb the ladder Too much garbage in your gallbladder, fall flatter On your face, now you carry by the pall-bearer Or wear the black suit, eyes all teared up Oh no, when your ho make a boss lit up We in the rib with a smirk n***a, all geared up Childish Gambino or Bobby Digi'lino on the tracks We breaking more backs that Sammartino, Bruno We saw more baselines than Juno Change more law in New York than Mr. Cuomo Godfather novels I write like Mario Puzo Master time fix the clocks like I'm Hugo Hold the weight like nine sumos Bust shots like John Lugo You know how the Wu go [Verse 2: Childish Gambino] Look sharp, homie give yourself a face lift High brow, eyebrows on a spaceship Take sips of that Ace of Spades-es Saving all my money just to waste on a bracelet Can't see them haters, we dont give a f** though Charge it to the game, keep a lame so cutthroat Never slip a fast one, the game is so in front of me Travel 'round the globe, spend and make 'bout a 100 G's Pack them crowds up, boss like Bowser Deep pocket poetry, my custom trousers Thank God they found us, the game was starvin' I'm clean and concrete, you a** and Charmin Bobby Digital, Do you really think these n***as know sh**? Shopping in Manhattan and I ran into my old chick Pride is a b**h. I am not a grown up Tweetin' when I'm 70, these half-dead followers She look like she Spelman, secretly she Hofstra Put her in the club, all she wanna hear is Waka Put her in the crib, all she wanna hear is Waka She jerk when I move like her old boy popped her Home is that Outkast, soul like I'm Phonte Old-school J's like Beyoncé's fiancé Back on on my dumb sh**, n***a we the stupidest Gave them n***as real sh**, don't know what to do with it I did what I did man, did you really see it though? 'Bino hard and fast, n***as sweet and low American Royalty, family loyalty We cream of the crop why the f** would we stop? She had two sons: both of 'em good grades Both of 'em rap songs Where did she go wrong? Nowhere mama, we just go where the money at Black Kennedy, where the f** you n***as at?