Slaughterhouse Lyrics - Slaughterhouse

[Joell Ortiz:] 

I define gutter, everytime I rhyme I climb up another notch 

Hip hop got my spine smothered 

But I'll be fine brother 

My mind hovers above all you jive suckers 

Listen, that's word to my mother 

You throw a shot at me 

I'm throwing a shot back 

Your's is on a joint 

Mine's whistling by your top hat 

Ya I'm cool but you violate and I'll cock back 

Open the mac's mouth and black out like I do not rap 

I'm sick and tired of niggas lyin 

They fifth is lyin in they second drawer 

Next door to some bullshit they ironed 

Ya'll be makin up stories that them little kids be buyin 

I do everything my Penn State like a Nittany lion 

I ain't gotta mention the streets on this song 

To get in a nigga ass on these beats like a thong, pause 

Veterans co-sign me, the up and coming scared 

The pretty girls go? gPapi here's my underwear... 

Never in a hundred years I thought I'd be a rapper 

But in less than a hundred bars I knew I'd be a factor 

I'm PS4 in HD and the screen is plasma 

You're Atari 2600 with a weak adapter 

Between us the gap's so crazy 

I'm Gucci, Louis V, you're Gap, Old Navy 

I get coochie in the V, you attract no ladies 

You're suburb, I'm gutter where it make cat's go crazy 

[Nino Bless:] 

Fuck a lecture, ain't tryin to be Pun's sucessor 

That term's done fucka, what up whatever 

You bird's is food 

I'm about to pluck some feathers, I'm young and clever, 

Plus, clutch under pressure, yup! who does this better? 

Walk around with metal all on me like the front of Shredder 

I lust for cheddar, you owe me 

Leave holes in your vest that'll open your chest like a sunken treasure 

I'm somethin' like a phenomenon 

Droppin' bombs for fun then dining in hell during Ramadan 

Whatever I'm rhymin' on, or whoever I tear em apart 

Swear on my pops, no fear in my heart 

Shit, been through it all 

Done swam with the sharks, snapped fins with my jaws 

I'm all that, and a bag of the baddest piff 

Off a brick of hash mixed with acid hits 

Like sick cracker shit 

Get back dumb birds I ignore the hype 

Click clack, Yung Berg if you flossin ice 

Dog, cross me twice, can't afford the price 

It'll cost you, I'll off your life 

You soft, I told you I'm raw white 

When I'm on this mic, the mourn at Knight 

Don't wanna see mornin' light 

And I feel like I'm forced to fight 

When the chips are down like Ponch fallin' of his bike 

Of course my metaphors are type awesome, right 

I got em in awe, my aura's Jordan like 

What's really poppin', who's diddy boppin' 

You was a willy 

Now you all Common and really conscious 

I ain't with that silly nonsense 

I really pop shit 

My gun stay cocked like Biggie's optics 

I stay evolvin, but grown bitter 

On your grave they carvin? gfucked with the wrong nigga... 

[Crooked I:] 

I don't write I kill a pen leak his blood on the page 

I breathe bars, like oxygen locked my lungs in a cage 

Instrumentals get fucked on the stage, a pedophile 

Unless I dig in the crates, and fuck with somethin my age 

Forever vow to never smile when I'm at peace 

Only when I'm eatin' the deceased like kiesh 

Only when my enemies eternal organs are a smorgasborg in the feast 

The dahmer with melanin and let em in the belly of the beast 

You'll be missin' till fisherman see your corpse 

I'll be in Michigan stickin' a chickin 

In my Michelin ready to pigeon pitch again 

From Switzerland to New York 

I was whippin' Bently's before them pictures up in the Source 

I'm a gorilla behind these bars, on some zoo shit 

Shoot you while you're talkin, on some news camera crew shit 

Sicker then flying in past tense, on some flu shit 

Day old asshole flow, I drop new shit 

Exclusive, you don't want it in fact 

I'll have the doctors operating on the front of your back 

Tryin to keep your stomach intact 

The spiritual you, leavin your body he don't wanna go back 

That's when the tunnel go black 

I'll send your soul to the atmosphere 

Fuck outta here, and your ring tone rap career 

It's Crooked I, the face of east side Long Beach 

Put your ear to the street, so you can hear my heartbeat 

[Royce Da 5'9":] 

I hope niggas know 

I'll show up to ya show 

I'll show up where you go 

Show up to ya door 

4's will explode shells 

For they hit the flo' 

I know niggas know 

I got an open window flow 

I air shit out 

In the D' they used to call me Mayor Royce 

Now they call me Clay Davis 

Guess why? 

Shiiiiiiiiiieeett 

Cause when it come to them words 

You know I wear shit out 

I write rhymes like white lines 

On the nose tray 

Ice cold, Ice Cube flow like O'Shea 

Riding shot gun with Chris Martin my DJ 

Not the white boy, but I'm down for the Coldplay 

Forever stay violent, better stay silent 

Hammers stay hummin' 

Like strummin' the mandolin or violin 

Speaking of, I done played into the violence 

More then my nigga Charles Hamilton played Sonic 

I wrap niggas up, clap niggas up, scrap niggas up 

Either that or we gon' slap niggas up 

Dump dirt on you right before I go into my Maino mode 

If I smell the scent of Yung Berg on ya 

Till it ain't no more, ain't no dough 

Get into his ass cause I ain't opposed 

I'm a living anal probe 

I'm a lame-a-phobe 

Matter fact my nigga Jumpoff can I keep goin? 

(WHY THE FUCK NOT!) 

When I was a teen, I used to pack a .380 

Now I'm spittin', sittin' between Shady and Jay 

I pull da jeans down on my bitch and then wave 

Cause the pussy Max B wavy when she ain't shave 

I leave the booth smellin' like somebody ain't sprayed 

I would talk about Kimbo but I ain't crazy 

I'm like Marty McFly 

Goin back in time and dissin' his momma nigga you can't fade me 

[Joe Budden:] 

They say he a bastard for real 

Then they see the ass on his girl 

So they wonderin', why he so mad at the world 

I take it out on tracks, I R.I.P. it 

So even to the producer it's hard to I.D. it 

Bars tremendous, it's in your best interest 

I insist your men just, do your best Bish's rendish 

Endless, move more then 2 inches 

My blood'll boil like I got a big skin cyst 

So end this, or see me manana 

Or see the speed of a llama 

Underground prima donna 

That ain't hard to find popppin' E in a Honda 

With hands like E. Honda, he a monster 

I love war it's like my pet peeve kinda 

But for us to even beef you should be honored 

My dick gettin hard, I see vagina, PAUSE 

Nah, rewind each line each time 

Speak mind and meet 9, mano e mano 

When it rains it pours grab a teflon poncho 

You now fuckin' with Mouse, the head honcho 

Nigga I could fit your house in my condo 

I walk around like ratchets been legalized 

Just me and the desert eagle, and the eagle eye 

Closed casket, now you having a box, wait 

Zipper over your head, dude's calling you crotch face 

So ya'll could bump swag like us 

But the next time rap's discussed 

Add this as a plus 

Don't nobody hit the pad like us 

And would get up in that ass 

But the fags might bust 

And since poppin' tags is a must 

I hit the bank and all I do is withdrawl 

Chicks removing they drawls 

Now your crew is in awe 

How you ball? 

Your jewels from a cubicle in the mall 

You gon' need another processor, 

To process it, I'll set it 

I said it! 

So keep running around hot headed 

Till you get hot leaded 

Till everything but your torso on you is prosthetic 

Digest it, niggas is pie-thetic 

Rap what you can't afford, ya'll must got credit 

All you gotta know is Crooked I, Royce, Bless & Joell 

With Joe spell, NO L!