Politics

[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 nigga (holla, holla at me) Politics my nigga (holla, holla at me) Politics my nigga (holla, holla at me) Politics (holla, HO!) It's politics my nigga (holla, holla at me) Politics my nigga (holla, holla at me) Politics my nigga (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 Niggas 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 niggas in '02 that I can't be touched Yo bitch call me sugar dick with the candy nuts But ain't shit sweet, don't get it twisted I'll beat yo ass, I don't need wine, I don't need cash I'll stick a sock in any nigga 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, fuck 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 death 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 nigga 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 nigga) Dream me a sea (All my niggas dealin with the politics) Put your mind on wondering (I smell you my nigga) Be what you want to be (Dream my nigga) It's politics my nigga *repeat 8X*