Royce Da 5'9" - Politics - C-lo lyrics

[Chorus: Cee-Lo, Royce the 5'9"] Give me a mountain. Give me a sea Put your mind on wonderland, be what you want to be. Wooow It's Politics. Ha my n***a Politics. Ha my n***a Politics. Ha my n***a Politics. Ha my n***a Politics. Ha my n***a Politics. Ha my n***a Politics. Ha my n***a Politics. Ha my n***a [Royce Da 5'9"] Seven years and countin, I've been accounting For unaccountable rap problems 'Cause accountant countin his rap dollars The ice watch on the sleeve of the white collar Leanin like the Pisa towser, 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 can 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 the drawer n***az I can't be caught, I can't be bought They call me the anti-core, anti-talk Anti, 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 a Tsunami flood I ain't trying to bug But that's why you got to shove Come on.. [Chorus] [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 bland of 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***az in oh-two 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 Is nothin to toughen you out, f** is you frontin about We cuttin you in, I'm cuttin you out [Chorus] [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 to holy grail, when he saw the soul he was since told his flows, the Davinci code decoded Since chosen, he prays harder But everytime he spot a rival revolvers inside His bible like, Gregory Heins with the rage of Harlem Po-po's harder, team free-on, we so cold Red like beam be on sight, we got weed neon green We got a one yay, Celine Deion white, green Your last breath, you about five heartbeats away from d**h 'Cause you the leon type, so muahh Make you rest in peace No more records bein sold, less is me Five nine, unsigned [Chorus] [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] Give me a mountain. (Dream my n***a). Give me a sea (All my n***az dealin with the politics). Put your mind on wonderland (I smell you my n***a). Be what you want to be. (Dream my n***a) It's politics my n***a. [repeat 8X]