Artist: Royce Da 5'9" f/ Mr. Porter, Tiara Album: Layers Song: Quiet Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Intro: Mr. Porter] Uh, oh yeah Uh, oh yeah Oh, oh yeah Uh [Chorus: Mr. Porter] + (Royce Da 5'9") See I done said so much - so much I done said so much that I ain't even got that much to say I done cried so much - so much I done cried so much that I can't even wipe the tears away - quiet (That's how it be when you come up around gangsters) Quiet (Silence be the same color my chain is) Quiet (That's how it be comin up on my block) Quiet (Silence be the same color my watch) Quiet [Royce Da 5'9"] Hold up, shhh, keep your mouth shut Them street sweepers'll come through and clean your house up Us Detroit niggaz call that yellow-tapin the scene My South niggaz call it chalked up You know we put money on it when it's real They call me Mr. Fifty a Head, I'm sendin ten niggaz to kill ya at ten until Every man got an expiration date, and a price All my revolvers got the spinnin +Wheel+ I make the Lord you pray to appear tonight like Vanna White Them racketeerin charges startin to look like a tennis deal I call the garden in my back yard Garden of Weeden lookin like some spinach spiel - but still I'm dealin raw From sellin to buyin weed, actually I'm stealin all I'm the last of a dyin breed that I'm out here killin off Four of my closest friends don't know their papas so I pull out rows of dollars to show 'em these real forefathers peelin off Get money! [Chorus] [Tiara] Hold up, shhh, I should've been born deaf mute Talkin gets you stripped naked Shootin at your feet dancin 'til Chip and Dale's at your +Rescue+ If, there's a wrinkle then there's iron to press you Look, time is money, I'm on EST Keep playin, light up your block like Christmas E-V-E I'm the +New Edition+ of +Poison+, BBD For that bread my niggaz'll stamp you, EBT I let a hot line sting 'em, you in the cop's line singin Ever since you left the city now they +Hotline's Blingin+ Hmm, seen a paddy wagon cruisin and I'm deducin that they are only movin cause all the rumors that you in If I had to draw a conclusion all the gangsters we losin is because of the illusion, you are not in collusion with the boys that's wearin blue and it's causin all this confusion And they wouldn't even know but y'all tellin what niggaz doin! [Chorus] [Royce Da 5'9"] I'm goin on an AK-a-thon Throw a Bible at some shallow waters right before I go and pray upon Double parked, custom license plates says I can pay a fine I ain't in the zone, I'm in the motherfuckin lay-up line Speakin of lay-ups, we do homi's based on how we doin Last lay up line I was in was a body viewin I'm preoccupied with the Earth's ills Good herbals, first meal was milk, I milk these niggaz for my first mil' Full circle, off of just talkin I could tell types But I'll still give that bitch my whip test If she not exhausted then she can easily tailpipe Playin that dirty hand I was dealt, don't complain to me nigga, tell Christ I'm standin over coffins with hammers and screws, with a sickness Man-a-cure/Manicure wouldn't hand a nigga these nails right Only hand-me-down I had was inherited head lice But nothing's more bugged out as my head size, I live twice E'ry day, one for the body of Martin Luther King, I'm dead nice Rest call me Malcolm, they want me dead because I'm dead right Ask me to spell die, I'ma accidentally spell dice I can shelve a label with my shelf life I'm a rider but still I steal bikes Out of the field terrorizin reptiles and field mice I'm cut, like I'm touched, a blind man with Braille spikes I'm deep, I could break up a motherfuckin whale fight! Get money! [Chorus]