Dream / Southern Hospitality / Partna Dem

[Part 1: Dream]

I had a dream I ran Atlanta
And I was on every radio station
And 107.9 was 97.5 again
And they played me at Golden Glide on Friday
And they played me real loud on the street
We drive up Memorial Drive, up Wesley Chapel
I reopen 112, and Jazzy T's
I'd bring back Turner Field. I fire all the cops in Cobb county
Chick-Fil-A will be open on Sundays
I bring back LaFace Records, Freaknik, Kilo Ali, Lou
I get J.R. Crickets some Spelman girls with big booties
I reopen SciTrek, strippers will get Mother's Day off
And I'd have my own Gangsta Grillz mixtape

[Part 2: Southern Hospitality]

[Intro]
Hey, this is Steve Smith from American Dad
And this is Royalty
(Stone Mountain)

[Interlude: DJ Drama, Childish Gambino]
This what y'all been waiting for?
In Gambino we trust! (Gangsta!)
Royalty is forever
DJ Drama is forever (Gangsta Grillz!)
Y'all ready? (yeah)
Gambino! (yeah)
Get em!

[Verse 1]
I ain't no snitch, cops, I don't trust 'em
I ain't no bitch, all I do is run 'em
I ain't—I ain't no snitch, cops, I don't trust 'em
I ain't no bitch, all I do is run 'em
Nigga, I was stuntin', keep that shit a hundred
If it ain't about the money, then it's not up for discussion
If it ain't about—

[Interlude: DJ Drama, Childish Gambino]
After selling out the Georgia Dome 3 nights in a row
After selling 10 million copies of his newest album
Roscoe's Wetsuit in one week!
After successfully petitioning to recarve his own face into Stone Mountain (yeah, yeah) (Stone Mountain)
He's still givin' you niggas a free mixtape?
Why, Gambino? Why young guy? Why so generous?

[Verse 2]
I ain't no snitch, cops I don't trust 'em
I ain't no bitch, all I do is run 'em (It's Royalty!)
Nigga, I was stuntin', keep that shit a hunnid
If it ain't about the money then it's not up for discussion
If it ain't about progress, ain't about success
Why this nigga suspect? You ain't seen sus' yet
I'ma fuck the game so hard like Tiffney
Niggas taking shots, I'm like "Nigga, don't tempt me"
I seen what you make, yeah, them shows sold out
But you doing clubs and I'm doing like all out things
"Why the hell he rapping if he all out sings?"
Royalty the movement, we all out kings
For real, Bino on a mission
We are not friends, nigga, this is business
Girl, this my dream, ain't no split decisions
Watch me cut this bitch off, I'ma need some scissors
Mama in the kitchen, hot sauce on them chitlins
I was always spittin', just that no one else was listening
Got your girl and now we kissing, she attracted to my vision
Now she see what she was missin', now she act a little different
Telling you she need some distance
Yeah, come on over, we can talk about it
Now this nigga mad, yeah, he thought about it
But he don't really want it, semen on her stomach
That's a second coming; Jesus
Flow so genius, can't low-key this
Puffin' on a swisher like a ho smoke penis
They want me Uncle Remus, but I'm just flexin' on 'em

[Part 3: Partna Dem]

[Intro]
This on some old Atlanta shit. But I like it cause, it's not about what you know, but who you know. Know what I'm saying?

[Verse]
Royalty my partna dem, no one else my partna dem
Stay strapped with that arsenal
These niggas winnin', it's hard to tell
Move over, we about to take over
Slide up in them DMs, her nigga didn't even notice, I'm focused
Yeah, I'm the man of the hour
Play me on Power, play me on Hot
Nigga I'm hot, nigga don't stop
Flow so cold put a cherry on top
Haters so mad, he ain't even know why, probably all the autonomy
Fuck all your feelings, I'm proud of me
Head was so good it's psychology
God damn, I'm just being who I am
From that weird ass little kid to this ballin' ass grown man
Man this beat is going so HAM, flow been burr since Novem'
Chain been burr since Novem'
That means cold, I'm just sayin', we ain't playin'
If your man don't want to lick it, I volunteer as tribute
You niggas on them Hunger Games, I'm eating Os like onion rings
I kill them hoes so constantly, I ain't even gotta sugar coat it
See them titties, wanna motorboat it
I'm Dopaliscious like SpottieOttie
Y'all don't know me, run the world
Turnin' up like that little girl, like, ayy-ayy-ayy-turn up
Tell them niggas it's tax season
Atlanta Georgia, that's black Sweden
I'm such a martyr, die for the game
I'm such a MARTA I'm runnin' trains like whoo
Slow that shit, felt that shit
Let me hear it