[Hook: Cee-Lo, Royce the 5'9"]
Dream me a mountain
Dream me a sea
Put your mind on wondering, and be what you want to be
Whoa
It's politics my n***a (holla, holla at me)
Politics my n***a (holla, holla at me)
Politics my n***a (holla, holla at me)
Politics (holla, HO!)
It's politics my n***a (holla, holla at me)
Politics my n***a (holla, holla at me)
Politics my n***a (holla, holla at me)
Politics (holla, HO!)
[Royce Da 5'9"]
Seven years and countin, I've been accounting
For unaccountable rap problems
Cause accountant countin this rap dollars
The ice watch on the sleeve of the white collar
Leanin like the Pisa tower, he's in power
Standing on top of the black bottom
You should pack up now that the dirty glove is with me
Take your hat off inside of the mitten when you spittin
Cause you could get it for sure
Your whole rap clapped up out you
If I don't get you back up
Got you in a morgue sittin stiff in a drawer
n***as I can't be caught, I can't be bought
They call me the anti-corp, anti-talk
Antsy, when it comes to gettin the kind of hugs
That come from a fake thug
That show me a sign of love
Who am I to judge but you would not out of love
Walk up if I was washed up like the tsunami floods
I ain't trying to bug
But that's why you got to shove
Come on
[Hook]
[Royce Da 5'9"]
Excuse me while I school them on how to pay these dues
Tell whoever jealous and want to slay me, cool
The whole game got the old bling and Mercedes blues
Everybody wanna fill Jay-Z shoes
I call it the Ferrari sniffs, the Phantom flu
Cause y'all sick, what already exists, can't be you
I told y'all n***as in '02 that I can't be touched
Yo b**h call me sugar dick with the candy nuts
But ain't sh** sweet, don't get it twisted
I'll beat yo a**, I don't need wine, I don't need cash
I'll stick a sock in any n***a mouth in any market
If he talkin, he a target, walk in his apartment
While he drinkin, spark him 'til he leakin, coughin Remy Martin
Cause if I flip my lid, you'd have to toss him in the garbage
It's nothin to toughen you out, f** is you frontin about
We cuttin you in, I'm cuttin you out
[Hook]
[Royce Da 5'9"]
Royce five nine is a prophet, in every sense of the word
Superb finisher, administer words like ministers
The tall tales of the low sales of a poet
Centuries rolled up in the pen that he holds up
He holds it the holy grail, when he sold his soul
He was since told his flow's, the Da Vinci code decoded
Since chosen, he prays harder
But every time he spot a rival revolvers inside
His bible like, Gregory Hines with the rage of Harlem
Po-po's call the, team Freon, we so cold
Red like beam be on sight, we got weed neon green
We got A1 yay, Celine Dion white, breathe
Your last breath, you about Five Heartbeats away from d**h
Cause you the Leon type, so muahh
May you rest in peace
No more records bein sold, 'less it's me
Five nine, unsigned
[Hook]
[Spoken Word- Royce]
Yeahh, Royce Da 5'9", my n***a Nottz
This is a M.I.C and teams with collaboration
Ladies and gentleman, I would like to introduce to you, Cee-Lo Green. Let's go
[Royce and Cee-Lo]
Dream me a mountain (Dream my n***a)
Dream me a sea (All my n***as dealin with the politics)
Put your mind on wondering (I smell you my n***a)
Be what you want to be (Dream my n***a)
It's politics my n***a *repeat 8X*