Slaughterhouse

[Intro: Joell Ortiz]

Ayo, Joey, what you said, 24, right? (Uh)

A'ight, cool, I got you, uh

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]

I define gutter - every time 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 wishing, that's word to my mother

You throw a shot at me, I'm throwing a shot back

Yours is on a joint, mine's whistling by your top hat

Yeah, 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 lying, they fifth is lying

In the second drawer next door to some bullshit they iron

Y'all be making up stories the little kids is buyin'

I do everything my pen state (Penn State) like a Nittany Lion

I ain't gotta mention the streets on a song

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

Veterans co-sign me, the up-and-comers scared

The pretty girls go, "Papi, here's my underwear" (Yeah)

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 the gats go crazy

[Verse 2: Nino Bless]

Fuck a lecture, ain't tryna be Pun's successor

That term's done fucker, what up whatever

You birds 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

Dropping bombs for fun then dine in Hell during Ramadan

Whatever I'm rhyming 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 of a brick of hash mixed with acid hits like sick cracker shit

Get back, dumb birds I ignore the hype

Click-clack, Yung Berged if you flossing ice

Dawg, 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

Still mourn at night, don't wanna see mornin' light

And I feel like I'm forced to fight

When the CHiPs are down like Ponch fallin' off 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 diddy-boppin

You wasn't really, 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 evolving but grown bitter

On your grave they're carvin' "Fucked with the wrong nigga"

[Verse 3: Crooked I]

I don't write I kill a pen, leak its 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 eating the deceased like quiche

Only when my enemy's internal organs are a smorgasbord in a feast

The Dahmer with melanin led 'em in the belly of the beast

You'll be missin' until fishermen see your corpse

I'll be in Michigan sticking a chicken in my Michelin

Ready to pigeon pitch again from Switzerland to New York

I was whipping Bentleys before them pictures up in The Source

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

Shoot you while you're talking on some news camera crew shit

Sicker than flyin' 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

Tryna keep your stomach intact

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

That's when the tunnel go black

I send your soul to the atmosphere

Fuck outta here and your ringtone rap career

It's Crooked I: the face of Eastside Long Beach

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

[Verse 4: Royce da 5′9″]

Nickel, yeah

I hope niggas know I'll show up to your show

I'll show up where you go, show up to your do', foes will explode

Shells 'fore they hit the floor, I know niggas know

I got a 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, "sheeeeeeeeeeee-it"

'Cause when it come to them words you know I wear shit out

I write rhymes like, white lines on a nose tray

Ice cold Ice Cube flow like O'Shea

Ridin' shotgun with Chris Martin - my DJ

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

Forever stay violent, better stay silent

Hammers stay humming like strumming the mandolin violin

Speaking of, I done played a tune of violence

More than 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

Til it ain't no mo', ain't no dough

Get into his ass cause I ain't opposed, I'm a livin' anal probe

I'm a lame-ophobe, matter fact my nigga JumpOff

Can I keep goin' (why the fuck not)

When I was a teen, I used to pack a three-eighty

Now I'm spittin sittin' between Shady and Jay

I pull the 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

[Verse 5: Joe Budden]

Mic check, they say he a bastard for real

Then they see the ass on his girl

So they wonderin' why's 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 Bush rendish

Endless, move more than two inches

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

So end this or see me mañana

Or see the speed of a llama, underground prima donna

That ain't hard to find, pop an 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 mine and meet nine, mano-a-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 an eagle eye

Closed casket, now you having a boxed wake

Zipper over your head, dude's callin' you Crotchface

So y'all 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 fag's might bust

And since poppin' tags is a must (what?)

I hit the bank all I do is withdraw

Chicks removin' their drawers 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 'til you get hot leaded

'Til everything but your torso on you is prosthetic

Digest it, niggas is pie-thetic

Rap what you can't afford, y'all must got credit

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

With Joe spell, NO L