Royce Da 5'9" - Paranoia lyrics

Call it Paranoia. Yea Every day is war. Every day, n***as 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***a you ever saw, been never thug, never had a problem And the sh** he never starts, sickest artist there ever was n***a found dead in his house, don't know who did it Yea, you bet it was me, n***as die at the pavement I'm wavin a nine out of the window and blazin Is your house shakin Who's inside n***a, it's funeral time n***a They die from stray 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***a [Hook: 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'mma pull over, And I might shoot you You should go around me, and don't look at me 'Till after you pa** me, cuz I might blast you n***a *I'm at war* I'm Paranoid, always on point Always holding n***a, 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 sh** n***as 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 k**er with a plan Makin sure I dont get, gunpowder on my hands All drama I'mma end it, murder game splended Leavin all crews for the f**er in forensics I got, two dependants, I gotta make it home Clean get-away, two bullets through your dome Is locked n***a [Hook] - La the Darkman [Royce Da 5'9" - spoken word] And that's just how the story goes y'all Any n***a where I'm from already knows Funny, my homie cuz said n***as gon' bring you a bowl of soup when you sick But if you die, then gonna love you later Think you a f**in statue or some sh** God bless these streets, God bless these streets right now I'mma 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