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 #

letra de malcolm x (d12 dis) - royce da 5'9''

[royce talking]
yo, yo, this is a j-dogg exclusive

d-12, worst f-cking rap group ever (you ready?)

royce da 5’9″ would like to apologize to the family of my homeboy bugz
for lettin’ that line leak out the radio, it was a long story how it happened
d-12 though, y’all better quit actin’ like that wadn’t my man too
like i was tryna disrespect him or somethin’, i was tryna disrespect y’all
cause that’s what i’m doin’ (gun-loading sound) from here on ‘n
my new name from now on, don’t even call me royce da 5’9″ no mo’
call me malcolm x, cause e’rybody in the city wanna k!ll me (-gun shooting sounds-)
i’m malcolm x now haha, we gon’ see who goin, i ain’t goin nowhere motherf-cker
we gon’ see, e’rybody who against me, n-gga i’m mad (b-tch)
haha, yeah, there’s only one problem
everytime you motherf-ckers breathe on the mic
it’s a motherf-ckin’ lie n-gga, n0body believes you (-echoes-)

[chours x2]
we gon’ beat yo’ -ss down

y’all n-ggas sound like y’all write y’all rhymes with motherf-ckin’ crayons, b-tches

[royce da 5’9″]
yeah, what rap crew i gotta sn-tch up out the game (b-tch)
who must i smack for sayin my name?
somebody gon’ die, it’s probably you
you couldn’t fit bizarre’s body in my shoes
n-ggas quick to talk all hood ’til i pop up
plus, you just act tough cause suge got locked up
i am above y’all, when you droppin your raps to diss me
i only recognize the top of your hats
and i don’t like proof punk–ss, he think he tough
he keep thirty n-ggas with him, cause he weak as f-ck!
i ever catch you by yourself, i’ma f-ck you up
sn-tch your little cheap–ss chain and piece you up
you better hope you and the white boy keep in touch
and be a good little hype man, or your lease is up
since slim signed 50, i don’t see your t–th as much
that’s good, cause you got a grill like a f-ckin truck!
d-mn homie, it’s history, over, hang it up
go somewhere and hang up some 50 posters, punk
you speak you late, y’all prolly gon’ go up to them awards
and get yo’ -ss whooped by b2k
i just wish eminem would stop tellin’ everybody he ain’t speakin’ to me
like i’m one of his hoes or somethin’
how ’bout this, i ain’t speakin to you, chump
and i’ma keep pickin on your weak -ss crew
you, b-tch, bizarre you a fat stutterin f-ck
you a joke, i choke whoever b-ttered you up
i’ve been ridin by your house, you don’t come out too much
you hidin, when i find you i’ma sn-tch you out of that front
and tie your fat stankin -ss to your couch and just
feed you, you already look like you about to bust
n-gga you can run or hide; i’ll be on your porch
with a cheeseburger tryin to lure you outside!
cause he’s in it, bizarre say g-g-g-g-g-g-unit
i bet you throw some extra “g’s” in it
just like a stutterin’ fool can’t reach intelligence
he sweats when he raps, cause he got a speach impediment
you, b-tch, porky’s pig and porky’s tomb
about to dig his own grave with a fork and spoon
you, b-tch, denaun and swifty please
give it a year, both a y’all be rakin’ 50’s leaves
what do i know, that other n-gga y’all got in your group
i don’t even know his name, but he can shovel my snow
you, b-tch, let’s face it i gave it to y’all
my lil’ sister got six puppies that’s braver than y’all (barking sounds)
n-ggas is startin’ the beef i’m ’bout to end with the quickness
i’m ’bout to end this quicker than bizarre can finish a biscuit
quicker than quick sh-t, y’all ain’t felt the half
quicker than eminem can pinch elton’s -ss
don’t call me, i ain’t ready to squash it yet, kiss my -ss
i don’t wanna talk to hex, i am so sick i should be compared to cancer
y’all throw up your dukes and don’t swing like fred g.? sanford
i be makin’ motherf-ckers scratch they heads when i rhyme
y’all lil’ n-ggas scratch ya heads then rhyme, go play;
you lil punk -ss n-ggas, y’all can scream and yell all you want
i feel like i’m battlin’ keenan & kel
you, b-tch, none o’ y’all can put in the card to kenell
paul better call me, like he called benzino
matter o’ fact, i might even do a song with ray
sign with murder inc. and hit you with a song again

[chorus x4]
[royce talking]
i don’t even want you lil’ punks to think i’m mad
y’all lil’ n-ggas are ninja turtles, you’re nothing
nothin’, you not on my level, i will beat yo boss’s -ss n-gga
tre little, bring it on

[tre little]
tre little, the baby gorrilla, i’m just that guy
i’m 5’6″, got stacked lines, sh-t that high, i’m ridin’
f-ck you and your commercial appeal
i turn yo’ head into blue ‘n yellow +purple hills+
i bet you whatever that n0body beats my family
eminem, nelly said that he’ll eat you like candy
what did you do, got on the phone and called him up
you don’t wanna talk to royce, but you talk to puff
you, b-tch, yo’ crew some local hoes
i hit you harder than that white girl that broke your nose
you and royce can squash this with one talk
step around from your security and talk to that man
i understand you backin’ yo’ crew, but this my brother
anythin’ that happen to him, somethin’ gonna happen to you
and i don’t give a f-ck for that, n-gga, i’ll do life
i advise you to stop; yo’ money don’t buy you stripes
only thing that money brings is fake n-ggas and problems
followed by n-ggas who hate fake n-ggas and rob ’em
but you n-ggas is wack; denaun i’ma stab you
so many times, i’ma feel bad when you collapse!
you n-ggas is so b-tch you make me sick to my stomach
every beat that you ever made sound like it was missin’ somethin’
timbaland lookin’ -ss, n-gga, my style is realer
what producer you ever know only good for album filler

[chorus x2]
[royce talking]
you!, yea, punk -ss n-ggas, yea we in the streets now too, n-gga
big homie’s out n-gga, what up

[tre little talking]
yea you add water and stir -ss motherf-ckers, what y’all thought
my brother here ain’t have no backbone?
n-gga, it’s on when i see y’all
proof what the f-ck you thinkin’ of n-gga, this cash boy
need the white boy to get y’all started -ss n-ggas
f-ck y’all hoes, i told royce i ain’t like that motherf-cka
f-ggots, i smack the sh-t outta any one o’ y’all n-ggas
sell my bill one n-gga
what the f-ck y’all thought n-gga y’all’ll get bought b-tch
street orientated; y’all motherf-ckers hate it
learn how to flow stop bein’ mad y’all b-tches
trick, trick, when i catch yo’ b-tch -ss, yea dude
asked about cash n-gga, you comin’ to yo’ doom
you’ll end up like cl1ck boom, b-tch
rock city motherf-cker, regardless
get the point b-tch, or get the hollows motherf-cker
it’s cash flow b-tch
big homie

[royce talkin]

- royce da 59

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS