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Artist: Royce Da 5'9" f/ D-Elite
Album:  Build & Destroy: The Lost Sessions
Song:   In the Presence of Wolves
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com

[Royce Da 5'9"]
Yo Tre', you gon' spot me or what?
Let the games begin
Jah 5'9", where you at?
Round one (CHI-CHI GOT THE LLELLO!)
Yeah, real niggaz on the prowl, HOO!

You's in the presence of wolves, let go your goods
I smell your blood in my neck of the woods
Fuck around with us and get found on your neck in the woods
Give him respect in his hood, don't mess with his crew
Niggaz be, salty as pretzels when I'm in the Lex' and it's movin
Invadin and steppin in my shoes is a definite intrusion
I'm exceptionally cool, never expect to be under pressure
or rescued, definitely only sweat in the BOOTH
I'm officially fuckin you up with, nuttin but wit
A blizzard is frozen, hidden under the clothin
Listen, you lyrical nothin you, you touchin who?
When it was wrote, you spit it, you thought you ripped it you loved it
It's like, the sun is above us when the wrist is uncovered
Like, all you gon' spit is blood or kick is the bucket
Like  99 percent of you niggaz that rhyme SUCK!
This is, the point of no return, I'm stuck

[Tre' Little]
Yo, yo you fuck-head niggaz ain't makin gangsta music
I make music for gangstas, it's therapeudic
You wild out to it, let the guns go too
Spittin out, skeet out, smoke a blunt to it (ERRR!)
Fake niggaz don't dare, it's too real
Have you doin drive-bys on my command, NOW KILL! (UHH!)
Go on, sniff the chi-chi, rock along with me
It goes - guns, murder murder live in Rock City
You knowwww - don't let you get beside yourself
It's just a, terrible thing to just lose your health
Look wrong, don't speak, just lose your wealth
That's the truth baby boy - shhh, quiet as kept
They games we play, official titty bars and rims
Blowin money on pussy, you can probably steal
Drink so much alcohol, shit, liver like steel
That's they way that I am; light, slim but still

[Cut Throat]
I feel the heat around the corner but I can't see smoke
Feel it comin in the night, no lights no coats
They say it's cold out here, I know how that feel
No help when you down, well reality ill
See the life and the lights on connected with crime
Wanna bang out these rhymes but can't say street times
What you about the struggle of what Cut go through?
When niggaz tryin to grind, what won't they do?
It's do or die baby, y'all all alone
No hoes, just your soul, and a heart this cold
Gotta, stay away; don't let your, spirit break
More, moves to make might not, be your fate
Get Cut Throat on these pussies, that's the ride I took
Last gangsta left standin in a room full of crooks
If it's poppin come the fuck on, let's handle this now
My soliders stratigize, that's how we get down

[Billy Nix]
Look at my life, I'm dead, gunshots over my head
I - sleep on the streets, gunshots over my bed
Carryin unnecessary weight, envy and hate
X-Government Agent, enemy of the state
Death, covers the pavement, tecs under your waist
Limited aim, unlimited range, niggaz erase
Slow down, you gettin on now, your name is mentioned
In and outta the game, fame done stained your vision
As light shines you niggaz just write rhymes
Confined in light time combined with mental dead bitches
The black man just tryin to get ahead witchu
Open your eyes 'fore some dumb nigga with lead hits you (uhh)
I speak peace cause peace is relevant
Continuous struggle for betterment, war with inner self
Fightin with the inner beast, wantin whores and cuties
that shows around the globe during my time of duty
Devils can't kill me, niggaz can't stop me
Listen and learn, witness the return of the mock D
Death is a funny thing - you can die, bein broke
or you can die from the drama that gettin money bring

[Royce Da 5'9"]
AH-ROO!  Mic's up, lights out
Real niggaz on the prowl
Still drink if it ain't mines
(Real niggaz) Throw up drinks like gang signs
Mic's up, lights out
Yeah, r-real niggaz on the prowl
Still drink if it ain't mines
(Real niggaz) Throw up drinks like gang signs

Yeah, X-Gov, Tre' Little
Cha Cha, B.O., 5'9", yeah
Yo, CHI-CHI GOT THE LLELLO! {*echoes*}
Yeah yeah, Wall Street, yeah yeah yeah
Yo, yo, real niggaz throw up drinks like gang signs
AH-ROO!  Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Drink if it ain't mines
Real niggaz throw up drinks like gang signs
Mic's up, lights out
Yeah, AH-ROO! (CHI-CHI GOT THE LLELLO!)
AH-ROO! {*fades out*}