it makes more sence that way…

there was still a few errors I didn’t double check, fixed a few more with that one. let me know of any others I missed.

it’s actually
“Every memory under my Dodgers Hats a nightmare…”

Royce Da 5’9”:
My rhymes reflection the Scarface supreme soul
If Jordan was wearing four-five,
I just look like this, I just seem old
But I had to bleed the blood of a dirty motherfucker
To suffer clean clothes
And touch what the king holds
The real estate market is harsh
Everything goes
From folds to who you were doing everything for
But I cut em off and move on to the new checks
New friends, chasing my new ends with new threats
Watching my dreams fold
Like a stack of bills
In the pocket of who ain’t trying to push up daffodils
But we the supercrew
You couldn’t handle this shit
If you were standing before us
Carrying the pooper scoop
You dealt with Shady’s shit?
I dealt with Shady’s shit
But I’m the only one who can truly say I dealt with Shady’s shit
I mean that with all respect
The poll is sheck
But Ryan and Marshall is all you get
My flow’s superb
I love Polly Rosenberg
What I say in a track
Those just words
Baby boy, forgive me
I’m just street
Cuz I can change into anything niggas want me to be
Like Misty
I don’t got to dig deep
To realize Slim
Brought Big Proof or Big G
Because he deserved it
And I’m on, the same way Shady did
Over here when he knew him
And when he attended Osborne
Marshall, I’m sorry
I knew it went left
I ain’t into fucking my family, like incest
If you remember Ice, it used to be my life’s interest
Tell Hailie my wife just had a princess
Since I made up with Em
There’s nothing else
That I can move on from
So who wants some?
Like a jar great pre-porn
You have to ask anybody in any car
Wanted to move on.
NIGGA MOVE ON!…

Crooked I:
When fans picture my interview
They think I’m in a swimming pool
With woman who’ve been abused
So they turn into strippers
Make a living in the news
One in a middle blowing my inner tube
While the interviewer was getting ridiculed
Is this your vision? Coo’
Let me give you a little jewel
Any dude who wanna sit in my tennis shoes
Is just missing screws
Don’t get it misconstrued
Don’t get this shit confused
I’m two seconds from prison food
I’m a different dude
Pistol in my reach, man
Still in Long Beach man
Hoping if my grind don’t help me get out
My speech can
I’ve been in the streets longer than Yao Ming’s wingspan
You can be MTV; I’ll be C-SPAN
I deal with politics, bandanas and hollow tips
Half of you rappers follow
Role models can swallow dick!
With stretched out over cash flow
Hip hop used to conceal my soul
Now it’s a bunch of assholes
Rap about a dance while I’m targeting cops
Spit some shit for Oscar Gram, hit the sergeant with shots
Make him a ghost like he part of The LOX
I won’t stop recording
Till I make songs harder than ‘Pac’s
If it don’t happen, at least a nigga know he right there
Every memory under my Dodge, I have to nightmare
As a kid I used to steal breakfast
And now the best question you have to ask me is
“Is this a real necklace?”
Where’s your beat from Dre, your feature from Cube?
These things leave people confused
Cuz they know I leave speakers abused
I eat the EQ’s, I eat through the beepers
The secret, I think it’s the shoes
Back in Cali, niggas blazin’ stress
Waiting on Detox to save the West
Even if this shit is dope
It ain’t giving you niggas hope
Unless your signatures
Wrote on the check from Interscope, NOPE!
MOVE ON! Move on West…Coast! Nah mean? West Coast move on!
And all that shit about me being on Death Row? Move on. Or get moved on! Haha!
SLAUGHTERHOUSEEEEEEE! BIOTCH!

not sure how the other comment got deleted, appreciate the help!