Carlos "6 July" Broady - Something's Wrong With Him lyrics

[Royce Da 5'9"] + (6 July) Uhh, yeah, my conference calls with 'Los and Kino Consists of - (n***a tone it down, there's way too much k**in) Of course I ignore 'em, a poor man talk I don't give a f** if I throw my core fans off Pathetic war done entered my brain and permanently changed me Now I'm angry so fu*k a metaphor fu*k hip-hop, hip-hop s**s! You got, n***as 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 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 fu*k a party now and everybody like [Hook: Royce] + (6 July) (What's wrong witchu n***a? Every song you k**in) (Every rhyme you spit is violently put) Lethal, BUT - I have no problem With puttin this gun down and beatin yo' a** up I was taught rhyme from the heart, they will feel you I like the dark, you cut on them lights, I will k** you (Something's wrong with him) [Royce Da 5'9"] + (6 July) (Just like his pops He don't give a f** if you like him or not He's a major problem) I will slap yo' a** 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***as 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-a** momma Everybody wanna know why the flow is so bad (Why is you so mad?) Everybody askin [Hook] [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**h Cause I will clap her if she happen to be witchu, when I k** 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 f** him up! I will knock his a** OUT And if I can't beat him I will grab my heater and POP his a**! fu*k yo' life, stripes I will shock yo' hood And I ain't never dyin, knock on wood - whattup 'Los? [Hook]