Royce Da 5'9" - Malcolm X (D12 Dis) lyrics

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Royce Da 5'9" - Malcolm X (D12 Dis) lyrics

[Royce talking] Yo, yo, this is a J-dogg exclusive D-12, worst f**ing 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** me (*gun shooting sounds*) I'm Malcolm X now haha, we gon' see who goin, I ain't goin nowhere motherf**er We gon' see, e'rybody who against me, n***a I'm mad (b*tch) Haha, yeah, there's only one problem Everytime you motherf**ers breathe on the mic It's a motherf**in' lie n***a, nobody believes you (*echoes*) [Chours x2] We gon' beat yo' a** DOWN Y'all n***as sound like y'all write y'all rhymes with motherf**in' crayons, b*tchES [Royce Da 5'9"] Yeah, what rap crew I gotta snatch up out the game (b**h) 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***as 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-a**, he think he tough He keep thirty n***as with him, cause he weak as f**! I ever catch you by yourself, I'ma f** you up Snatch your little cheap-a** 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 teeth as much That's good, cause you got a grill like a f**in truck! DAMN 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' a** 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 a** crew You, b*tch, Bizarre you a fat stutterin f** You a joke, I choke whoever bu*tered you up I've been ridin by your house, you don't come out too much You hidin, when I find you I'ma snatch you out of that front And tie your fat stankin a** to your couch and just FEED YOU, you already look like you about to bust n***a 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***a 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***as 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**, y'all ain't felt the half Quicker than Eminem can pinch Elton's a** Don't call me, I ain't ready to squash it yet, kiss my ASS 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**ers scratch they heads when I rhyme Y'all lil' n***as scratch ya heads then rhyme, go play; You lil punk a** n***as, 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***as are Ninja Turtles, you're nothing Nothin', you not on my level, I will beat yo boss's a** n***a 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** that high, I'm ridin' fu*k you and your commercial appeal I turn yo' head into blue 'n yellow +Purple Hills+ I bet you whatever that nobody 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** for that, n***a, I'll do life I advise you to stop; yo' money don't buy you stripes Only thing that money brings is fake n***as and problems Followed by n***as who hate fake n***as and rob 'em But you n***as is WACK; Denaun I'ma stab you So many times, I'ma feel bad when you collapse! You n***as 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' a**, n***a, my style is realer What producer you ever know only good for album filler [Chorus x2] [Royce talking] You!, Yea, punk a** n***as, yea we in the streets now too, n***a Big Homie's out n***a, what up [Tre Little talking] Yea you add water and stir a** motherf**ers, what y'all thought My brother here ain't have no backbone? n***a, it's on when I see y'all Proof what the f** you thinkin' of n***a, this cash boy Need the white boy to get y'all started a** n***as f** y'all hoes, I told Royce I ain't like that motherf**a f*ggots, I smack the sh** outta any one o' y'all n***as Sell my bill one n***a What the f** y'all thought n***a y'all'll get bought b**h Street orientated; y'all motherf**ers hate it Learn how to flow stop bein' mad y'all b**hes Trick, trick, when I catch yo' b**h a**, yea dude Asked about cash n***a, you comin' to yo' doom You'll end up like click boom, b**h Rock City motherf**er, regardless Get the point b**h, or get the hollows motherf**er It's Cash Flow b**h Big Homie [Royce Talkin]