Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Somebody Dissin U , by - Twiztid. Release date: 24.11.1997
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Somebody Dissin U |
| They call me Hektik |
| 'Cause the way the pain is interjected |
| You talk shit, you gon' regret it |
| Fuck it, you said it |
| Watch your mouth fool |
| I’m on the move |
| Time to play |
| For words you say |
| One level of pain on display |
| Bitch, back off |
| Too late your bitch is spread out, you jack off |
| Leavin' you wishing that you was dead off |
| The planet |
| Can’t understand it? |
| Let me explain |
| All that shit you talked drove me insane |
| But my brain swells, my ears bleed |
| And all the bad level of attack is underrated, |
| remember that |
| Head’s get cracked |
| With baseball bats |
| I love the sound it makes when it pings |
| I even love it when my ears ring |
| Stomp on suckers in a second |
| Leave you with no sign of recollection |
| Rearrange your whole memory section |
| Disease, infection, hopin' that I die slowly |
| Covered in corn stalks, protected by the oak trees |
| Freeze… muthafuckas! |
| Get your hands in the air… muthafuckas! |
| This ain’t a game |
| I don’t talk shit I’ll slit necks just because |
| Catchin' a buzz |
| And keeping a look out for the fuzz |
| If I get hit by the cops I’m goin' out like Val Kilmer |
| Heat the whole squad, droppin' the bomb |
| then watch 'em simmer |
| Pain is a beautiful thang it makes my spine shiver |
| Murder for hire, better believe I deliver |
| If you think somebody’s dissin' you, they probably are |
| So far all I been hearin is player hatin' |
| If you think somebody’s dissin' you, they probably are |
| So far all I been hearin is player hatin' |
| (Big Blaze) |
| Big Blaze from the I.S.I. |
| Superstars Underrated |
| From the B.K.I. |
| Big Kids Incorporated |
| Who faded? |
| You think I’m touched by that shittalk ways |
| Knew you back in the day |
| Homie, you ain’t changed |
| You still a bitch… how many times |
| can you switch your format? |
| Wonder why you under everybody like a doormat |
| Talk that shit, cuz (yup!) |
| Rap that shit, cuz (yup!) |
| Produce that shit, cuz (yup!) |
| But you ain’t shit, cuz (Yup!) |
| And even if you sucked my nuts, you can’t play |
| I still wouldn’t give yo' ass the time of day |
| You just a punk, you need to raise up off me partna |
| Your shit is sloppy, we be Benz and you jalopy |
| Duck the fuck out 'fo I kick ya ass |
| Next time you see a nigga, just ride on past |
| Heavyweight like all of the company I keep |
| We be deep and real niggaz don’t sleep |
| That shit about my man’s just not true, ho |
| Just take that drum machine and |
| shove it all up in ya asshole |
| Quick to go down nigga, Puffy-gold imposter |
| Back that ass from a rock 'cause you’s a busta |
| If you think somebody’s dissin' you, they probably are |
| So far all I been hearin is player hatin' |
| If you think somebody’s dissin' you, they probably are |
| So far all I been hearin is player hatin' |
| (Mr. Bones) |
| As we moving with the speed of the robot sonic exhaust |
| Chronic fumes, fuel, gin and tonic |
| Half of the world is corrupt and alive |
| Other half is depressed and they want to die |
| I.S.I. |
| Why ask why? |
| Realize there’s a killer in your face, |
| look him in his eyes |
| 'Fore your body dies |
| I’ma grab your soul straight up out your chest |
| Put it in my black glass jar with all the rest |
| Of the competition |
| Pack rhymes with precision |
| Eliminating adversaries |
| And all of our divisions |
| Are cuttin' like an incision |
| While other suckers is missin' |
| With enough cheese for three niggas |
| in college with tuition |
| Take a listen |
| I drop knowledge like a teacher |
| An ill preacher |
| Preaching a sermon |
| Are they learnin' |
| How to sing along |
| With the dead man’s song |
| He’s got an X in his head so I know which side he’s on |
| And brain dead people always say, «right on!» |
| They got ten on the weed cause we all high arms |
| We let bygones be bygones and then dismiss |
| Y’all wack ass bitches in the abyss |
| Fuck a diss |
| 'Cause you let your colors show too many times |
| It goes way deeper than rhymes |
| Fuck a beat cause I rock accapella |
| Crazy ass fella |
| Used to fuck Cinderella |
| In the back of the pumpkin coach |
| Smoking roach after roach |
| Fuck her all night |
| And in the mornin' make me French toast |
| Coast to coast |
| Drop knowledge like a teacher |
| I.S.I. |
| in this bitch we play the preachers |
| If you think somebody’s dissin' you, they probably are |
| So far all I been hearin is player hatin' |
| If you think somebody’s dissin' you, they probably are |
| So far all I been hearin is player hatin' |