(feat. Carlos "6 July" Broady)
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[Royce Da 5'9" + (6 July)]
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Uhh, yeah, my conference calls with 'Los and Kino
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consists of - (Nigga tone it down, there's way too much killin)
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Of course I ignore 'em, a poor man talk
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I don't give a fuck if I throw my poor fans off
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Pathetic war done entered my brain and permanently changed me
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Now I'm angry so FUCK a metaphor
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FUCK hip-hop, hip-hop sucks!
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You got, niggaz on top swingin from 2Pac's NUTS!
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It's like, I could go in the lab
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and try to write somethin that's nice or bright but I will be holdin back
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My scripture's in the dark
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Deep-rooted soldier inside my soul, uncontrollable temper like "The Hulk's"
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My wife don't like my album, it's way too dark for women
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She say it sound like I hold grudges
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She rather listen to Joe Budden's, no disrespect aight?
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But FUCK a party now and everybody like
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[Chorus: Royce + (6 July)]
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(What's wrong witchu nigga? Every song you killin)
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(Every rhyme you spit is violently put)
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Lethal, BUT - I have no problem
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with puttin this gun down and beatin yo' ass up
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I was taught rhyme from the heart, they will feel you
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I like the dark, you cut on them lights, I will kill you
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(Something's wrong with him)
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[Royce Da 5'9" + (6 July)]
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(Just like his pops
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He don't give a fuck if you like him or not
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He's a major problem) I will slap yo' ass in church
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And apologize to Jesus later, punk!
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Why am I hot and you not, and why is you rich?
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And why I ain't got SHIT in my pocket but lint?
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This ain't rap no mo', this not a flow
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This is beef, there's a couple street niggaz that got to go (bloaw!)
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My name is Nickel (haha) I'm from the suburbs (yeah!)
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It's only a ten-minute drive to come and get you (yeah)
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TIRED of you hoes
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I will slap snot side-ways outta ya nose, PARTNAH! (partnah!)
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I know we got drama
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But I will still show up at your funeral and hug yo' ugly-ass momma
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Everybody wanna know why the flow is so bad
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(Why is you so mad?) Everybody askin
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[Chorus]
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[Royce Da 5'9"]
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I'm a natural since - I wrote "Black Girl"
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I hope that you don't think
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that I won't smack yo' bitch
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Cause I will clap her if she happen to be witchu, when I kill you
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You can get ideas, nobody compares you thugs
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I will put out the bub on top of yo' head
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This .22 rifle, be shootin them bouncin bullets
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The enter into your head and exit out yo' foot
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Ride off as soon as my clip turns, you click and
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[click click, BOOM] them choppers is lookin for eyeballs (yeah)
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You could bring yo' roughest toughest thug
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that's jealous just tell him to touch me, I will fuck him up!
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I will knock his ass OUT
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And if I can't beat him I will grab my heater and POP his ass!
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FUCK yo' life, stripes I will shock yo' hood
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And I ain't never dyin, knock on wood - whattup 'Los?
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[Chorus]
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-----------------
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Something's Wrong With Him
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Royce Da 5'9'' |