Courtesy

(Intro)Yo, where the other one at?

I like this one

Just let it go, Preem

(Verse 1: Royce da 5'9")

Z06 'Vette, grippin', feelin' almost there

Listenin' to Bon Jovi, rollin' "Livin' on a Prayer"

Privy to the gossip that's been said about me constant

It's the life and times of "Bumpy" Johnson meets "Nucky" Thompson

I used to rap about death, now I'm only concerned to live

I value relationships, still I keep it competitive

Nowadays, chances are that if you see me throw the match

It ain't to lose the fight, it's to walk away from a burnin' bridge

I'm from a family of alcoholics and coke addicts

Daddy taught me if the ass is so fat

It's a fact that if you with your ho, don't matter

It's still appropriate to scope at it

Livin' life with no balance

Drivin' drunk on co-pilot, drivin' 'til I total it

I'm tryna stay afloat, but I got nobody to throw a rope at it

The game is just a game of splits and politics wit' no ballot

All kind of clips with mo' malice than pushin'

If you profilin', there'll probably be more violence than lookin'

I'm so stylish, but I ain't talkin' eBay, no high-end fashion either

If you catch me by the runway it's the one that's for the PJ

This one is for my lyricists, courtesy of my DJ

Hook: Royce da 5'9" & (Samples)

(I can't control it, can't hold it, it's so nuts)

(Hustle hard in any hustle that you pick)

(I, I, I respect that)

I done had a lot of niggas say they wanna hurt me

Somehow, some way they just end up at my mercy

Just show some courtesy

(Hell yeah, nigga, you know, and niggas still got it)

(Believe that shit)

(Verse 2: Royce da 5'9")

I got killers 'round the way ready to move that work for me

Niggas wanna ride my wave, bitches wanna surfboard me

All I want is courtesy, who cares 'bout the radio?

And you could take the cassette deck from off of your old boombox

And it wouldn't matter, there's still squares on your radio

To keep your wealth I learned to stay to yo'self

I call for Charl, tell him spray paint a mural in Watts

Of me spray-paintin' a mural of Miracle Watts

Shout-out to Michael "5000" Watts

I'm on that lean movement like I'm out here tryna box

Look, nigga, this is a boss thing, uh

Meanin' you gettin' the laze' dot to your offspring

I'm a lost bein', uh

Try to cross me without fallin' off, I'm afraid not

I'm a frayed knot like a draw string

I'm preachin' to the congregation like I'm Peter Popoff

If you can imagine me hopping up out of the cabin

Like I'm one of the dukes of Hazzard like, "Fuck it"

Leave the top off like time for foreplay

That last line that was before your time

Like Big Ben sittin' in Beyonce doorway

While I'm receivin' Four Seasons, Norwegian top in Norway

Listenin' to rappers kick knowledge

That they probably got from Tour�

These Michael Eric Dyson niggas claiming they king

Not knowing the kind of drama that that bring

I'm a be the first established rapper to hop in that battle rap ring Turn that to Gatlin'

My next album gon' be so dark and so fly

I should see the package, it wrapped in batwings

These Soul Train Music Award actors rock fake as wrestlin'

Dressed bottom to top in leather lookin' like bacon in Vaseline

How you looking like beef jerky?

Beefin' in every verse, but never beefin' in person?

Randy Savage, you wouldn't snap a Slim Jim

You wouldn't rip a wrappin' on Christmas in Santa's attic

Wit' the hands of Eddie Scissors and you average

Put your motherfuckin' hands up

My job is to move the crowd, move the motherfuckin' crowd

Put your motherfuckin' hands up

(Outro)

I respect that(Prhyme!)