Paranoia

Call it Paranoia. Yea

Every day is war. Every day, niggas 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

Nigga you ever saw, been never thug, never had a problem

And the shit he never starts, sickest artist there ever was

Nigga found dead in his house, don't know who did it

Yea, you bet it was me, niggas die at the pavement

I'm wavin a nine out of the window and blazin

Is your house shakin

Who's inside nigga, it's funeral time nigga

They die from stray hits, pride wasted

Dry your face, iron 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 nigga

[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 pass me, cuz I might blast you nigga *I'm at war*

I'm Paranoid, always on point

Always holding nigga, 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 asshole, full of shit

Niggas 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 killer 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 fucker in forensics

I got, two dependants, I gotta make it home

Clean get-away, two bullets through your dome

Is locked nigga

[Hook] - La the Darkman

[Royce Da 5'9" - spoken word]

And that's just how the story goes y'all

Any nigga where I'm from already knows

Funny, my homie cuz said niggas gon' bring you a bowl of soup when you sick

But if you die, then gonna love you later

Think you a fuckin statue or some shit

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