a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

royce da 5'9'' - something's wrong with him lyrics

[verse 1: royce da 5’9″ & 6 july]
uhh, yeah, my conference calls with ‘los and kino
consists of…
n-gga tone it down, there’s way too much k!llin’
of course i ignore ’em, a poor man talks
i don’t give a f-ck if i throw my core fans off
pathetic war done entered my brain
and permanently changed me
now i’m angry so f-ck a metaphor
f-ck hip-hop, hip-hop sucks!
you got, n-ggas on top swingin’ from 2pac’s nuts!
it’s like i could go in the lab
and try to write somethin’ that’s nice or bright
but i would be holdin’ back
my strength in the dark
deep-rooted soldier inside my soul
uncontrollable temper like the hulk’s
my wife don’t like my album, it’s way too dark for women
she say it sound like i hold grudges
she rather listen to joe budden’s, no disrespect aight?
but f-ck a party now and everybody like

[hook: royce da 5’9” & carlos “6 july” broady]
what’s wrong witchu n-gga? every song you k!llin’
every rhyme you spit is violently put
lethal, but i have no problem
with puttin’ this gun down and beatin’ yo’ -ss up
i was taught rhyme from the heart, they will feel you
i like the dark, you cut on them lights, i will k!ll you
something’s wrong with him

[bridge: 6 july]
just like his pops
he don’t give a f-ck if you like him or not
he’s a major problem

[verse 2: royce da 5’9″ & 6 july]
i will slap yo’ -ss in church
and apologize to jesus later, punk!
why am i hot and you not, and why is you rich?
and why i ain’t got sh-t in my pocket but lint?
this ain’t rap no mo’, this not a flow, this is beef
there’s a couple street n-ggas that got to go (blaow!)
my name is nickel (haha)
i’m from the suburbs (yeah!)
it’s only a ten-minute drive to come and get you (yeah)
tired of you hoes
i will slap snot sideways outta ya nose, partner! (partner!)
i know we got drama
but i will still show up at your funeral
and hug your ugly–ss momma
everybody wanna know why the flow is so bad
(why is you so mad?) everybody askin’

[hook: royce da 5’9” & 6 july]
what’s wrong witchu n-gga? every song you k!llin’
every rhyme you spit is violently put
lethal, but i have no problem
with puttin’ this gun down and beatin’ yo’ -ss up
i was taught rhyme from the heart, they will feel you
i like the dark, you cut on them lights, i will k!ll you
something’s wrong with him

[verse 3: royce da 5’9”]
i’m a natural since i wrote “black girl”
i hope that you don’t think that i won’t smack yo’ b-tch
’cause i will clap her if she happen to be witchu’, when i k!ll you
you can get ideas, n0body compares you thugs
i will put out the bub on top of yo’ head
this .22 rifle be shootin’ them bouncin’ bullets
the enter into your head and exit out yo’ foot
ride off as soon as my clip turns, you cl1ck and
(-cl1ck cl1ck, boom-)
them choppers is lookin’ for eyeb-lls (yeah)
you could bring yo’ roughest, toughest thug
that’s jealous just tell him to touch me, i will f-ck him up!
i will knock his -ss out
and if i can’t beat him i will grab my heater and pop his -ss!
f-ck yo’ life, stripes i will shock yo’ hood
and i ain’t never dyin’, knock on wood, what up ‘los?

- royce da 59 lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS