Ding
[Commercial Intro: Royce Da 5'9"]
Yeah yeah
Mic check, one two, one two, one two
Yeah, turn me up a little bit Preem
Yeah, mic check
Mic check, one two, one two
Yeah
Yeah, yeah

[Mixtape Intro: Royce Da 5'9" & DJ Premier]
Yeah yeah
Mic check, one two, one two, one two
Yeah, turn me up a little [?]
Yeah, mic check

Word! The Bar Exam, I told you how it's goin downDJ Premier ya host, Statik Selektah on the wheels of steel
Royce 5'9", the artist
Teaching you motherfuckers how to rhyme

[Verse 1]
I like to say I specialize in rhyming
You recognized in time
I train till I'm in pain
I exercise my mind
I effortlessly write
My weapons with me tonight
So, please be aware of 'em
Walk up in the fight club with eight ounce white gloves and leave with red ones
Mood swing on the beat, soon as Preem prepares one
Pick and choose my punches
Walk away with minimal lumps
Pivoting around the vocal booth in trunks
Back you off me like a boxer
Nigga I overuse the drum
They call me Travis Barker with a chopper
Knock away your tooth
Do the rock-away or I will raise your roof
Rest in peace to Proof
He prolly rolling over in his grave, niggas poisoning his name
The misfortunes of the fortune and the fame
I'm too cocky to hit
5'9" and Preem, the new Rocky and Mick
The dollar signs go ding
Preem, cut me
[Chorus]
Cut!
This is where your heart at bitch
Something you don't wanna battle with
As if you don't notice
Damn I'm great
I don't like no fake niggas
This is where your heart at bitch
Something you don't wanna battle with
Damn I'm great

[Verse 2]
They say this is a wise old profession
So my flow is my whole confession
I rhyme like applying cold compression
You go away like swelling
When pellets from the throw away is yelling
At you near the doorway to hell or heaven
Set me up, I know you've thought about it
That means I gotta wet you up
And I ain't talking with no water bottle
Sit outside your house creeping
Come out and (ugh)
Spit out your mouth piece
And I'll skid out to South Beach
Fuck yo' talent, I'm never going down
I'm a stand-up guy, yes I'm up for the challenge
Up cause of balance
From tying my shoe strings together when I was young and busting the cannon
Your life is spun, the fight is done
You've been iced out by the nicest one
And I ain't talking about Jacob and Johnny the jeweler
I'm talking bout letting the fakest hear the sound of the Ruger
What you know about that?
I know all about that
Me and Tip feel the same
Seeing tips feel the brain
Is like watching a movie but I ain't make those
I just make the credits roll after I'm Oliver Stone
I'm the pedestal you stand on me I'mma flip you
Pitbull, put your hands on me I'mma sic you
It's true you not so hard, I'm sensing you puss
As soon as you drop your guard, in comes the hook
Preem, cut me
[Chorus]
Cut!
This is where your heart at bitch
Something you don't wanna battle with
As if you don't notice
Damn I'm great
I don't like no fake niggas
This is where your heart at bitch
Something you don't wanna battle with
Damn I'm great