Something's Wrong With Him Lyrics
| Song | Something's Wrong With Him |
| Artist | Royce Da 5'9" |
| Album | Death Is Certain |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Broady, Montgomery | |
| 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 angrySo fuck a metaphor, fuck hip hop, hip hop sucks | |
| You got, niggaz on top swingin' from 2 | |
| Pac'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(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)(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 | |
| My name is | |
| Nickel, 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'(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) | |
| I'm a natural since | |
| I wrote Black | |
| GirlI 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 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?(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) |
| zuo qu : Broady, Montgomery | |
| 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 angrySo fuck a metaphor, fuck hip hop, hip hop sucks | |
| You got, niggaz on top swingin' from 2 | |
| Pac' 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 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 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 | |
| My name is | |
| Nickel, 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' 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 | |
| I' m a natural since | |
| I wrote Black | |
| GirlI 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 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? 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 |
| zuò qǔ : Broady, Montgomery | |
| 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 angrySo fuck a metaphor, fuck hip hop, hip hop sucks | |
| You got, niggaz on top swingin' from 2 | |
| Pac' 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 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 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 | |
| My name is | |
| Nickel, 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' 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 | |
| I' m a natural since | |
| I wrote Black | |
| GirlI 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 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? 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 |
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