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Текст (слова) песни: Royce Da 5`9`` - Something`s Wrong With Him



(feat. Carlos "6 July" Broady)

[Royce Da 5`9" + (6 July)]
Uhh, yeah, my conference calls with `Los and Kino
consists of - (Nigga tone it down, there`s way too much killin)
Of course I ignore `em, a poor man talk
I don`t give a fuck if I throw my poor fans off
Pathetic war done entered my brain and permanently changed me
Now I`m angry so FUCK a metaphor
FUCK hip-hop, hip-hop sucks!
You got, niggaz 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 will be holdin back
My scripture`s 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 FUCK a party now and everybody like

[Chorus: Royce + (6 July)]
(What`s wrong witchu nigga? Every song you killin)
(Every rhyme you spit is violently put)
Lethal, BUT - I have no problem
with puttin this gun down and beatin yo` ass up
I was taught rhyme from the heart, they will feel you
I like the dark, you cut on them lights, I will kill you
(Something`s wrong with him)

[Royce Da 5`9" + (6 July)]
(Just like his pops
He don`t give a fuck if you like him or not
He`s a major problem) I will slap yo` ass 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 SHIT in my pocket but lint?
This ain`t rap no mo`, this not a flow
This is beef, there`s a couple street niggaz that got to go (bloaw!)
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 side-ways outta ya nose, PARTNAH! (partnah!)
I know we got drama
But I will still show up at your funeral and hug yo` ugly-ass momma
Everybody wanna know why the flow is so bad
(Why is you so mad?) Everybody askin

[Chorus]

[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` bitch
Cause I will clap her if she happen to be witchu, when I kill you
You can get ideas, nobody 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 click and
[click click, BOOM] them choppers is lookin for eyeballs (yeah)
You could bring yo` roughest toughest thug
that`s jealous just tell him to touch me, I will fuck him up!
I will knock his ass OUT
And if I can`t beat him I will grab my heater and POP his ass!
FUCK yo` life, stripes I will shock yo` hood
And I ain`t never dyin, knock on wood - whattup `Los?

[Chorus]

 

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