Real Hip Hop - Royce 5'9, Black Milk, eLZhi

If this ain’t real hip hop nigga tell me what it is then

Walking sci-fi cyborg, my image is

Napalm, translation, you tampon bleed

Like the opposite of mankind

Tryna put your hands on my damn rod

You might as well handstand on a land mine

If I ain’t bout that, let adversity hurt me

Like if I ain’t bounce back, all I do is count stacks

You can’t put me and flames in the same quote

Beast on the track, me and Usain Bolt in the same boat

Mention me and lightning in the same volt

Crqckers amphibian, I’m a handful

Guns give you suntans like a Pakistan Indian, pop shit

Quick enough to snatch a fly out the air with some fuckin' chopsticks

Uh-uh-uh, nigga, who hotter than me?

I’m on a million dollar-AK-hollering spree (Nickel!)

If this ain’t raw shit, then nigga, I’m lost in the game

And that means everyone remains comin' with that soft shit

This is that dark flow, caught up in the alley walking

Like Losing Out Pt.

2 without Alan Parsons

Take precaution, the percussion is danger

These niggas feelin' anger, like ever since we came up

My circle always come prepared

While other cats is like a plaid shirt, all I see is a bunch of squares

Have a bunch of Leers out in London on stage

Watching hands to the ceiling while rocking in front of fans

Yeah we so in here, so advanced, so far into the future

Copping grands these nigga won’t comprehend

This game looks wide open in my eyes

So of course I took it and ran with it like a baton

And passed it to my fam, the legacy lives on

Fuck bein a hundred deep, we’re trying to be a mil strong

If this ain’t hip hop, like Dickies and flip-flops

Or Phillies and Timbos, the Willies with trimmed fros

Ya’ll silly as bimbos and hillbillies, still illy with them flows

My skill really shine like gem stones

In Beverly Hills, feel me?

New sheriff in town, the flair with the sounds

Since rap was lost in the mainstream

But who care if it drowns

My brain scheme is complex like the magazine

Swagger’s mean like gang related rags and jeans

Tag a scene, smack machines, make the maggots lean

I drag machines like blunts from outta bags of green

On Dud’s stash!

So playa I pull the stud’s math

Those in power get golden showers and bloodbaths

In shitstorms, I spit thorns and pierce through

The nearest crew, who never knew I was fierce, but

Fear is true with the clearest view

They grim and hate, and imitate what they hear us doin'

Immolate, I’ll demonstrate how their spear flew

To higher ground and came down like a parachute

For fucking with me, Royce, Black, and June

We’ll lay you on your back in black lagoon

If this ain’t real hip hop

What the fuck is it then?