Slaughterhouse

Slaughterhouse - Move On songtekst

Je score:

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]

No I don't respond with answers that fit a script 

So the repetition will make a nigga flip 

We in the game of smoke and mirrors 

Those engineering a bigger spliff 

Blowing circles out they mouth getting praise but the shit is shift 

I never lived a myth, if I said it I did it 

Never alleged, word to dead I gripped a fifth 

I made my housing tenement a strip, moving medicine and nicks 

When I seen them coming I jetted from them pricks 

And still to this day, though she clean, I wish my mommy never sniffed 

But the hurt is making me better with this gift 

I'm live with this ink, you could die in a blink and

Y'all got the nerve to ask me why do I drink and

Motherfuckers, sometimes I cry when I'm thinking 

Y'all ain't there when them tears being dried by the sink 

It was cold in the winter, my community centers who gave me dinner 

I ain't mind, my table chairs gave me splinters 

Set up to be a loser but was made to be a winner 

If they paint Hip-Hop I bet my face be in the picture 

If they wrote a rap bible, bet my name be in the scriptures 

If shorty say I'm her idol, bet her face be in my zipper 

I came a long way from the staples in my skrilla 

Stains on my pants hardly had a cut 

The ladies ain't want to dance so house parties would suck 

All my friends on the wall, I'm in the hall with a cup 

Nah I ain't complaining, just telling y'all what it is 

So if y'all going through it now just know that another kid 

Made something out of nothing - well I'm fronting, I was never nothing 

Older ladies used to tell my mother "Ain't he something?"

I look at a lot of you cats and laugh 

Cuz I'm the shit, man, and y'all ain't even passing gas 

When I spit, I'm the definition of mastered craft 

And all y'all ask about is Aftermath 

Motherfucker move on



[Verse 2: Joe Budden]

I got to give my own interview 

Since niggas that do my interviews focus on whatever's miniscule 

And paint me as a cynical 

But the canvas will limit you, you can't go beyond what there's no limit to 

If I think Hip-Hop is dead I think it's being revived 

And that comes from me being inside 

Where the demons get by, see them goodbye 

If I'm vehement here's why 

Come from hearing it and seeing venomous lies 

So the beast in me cries cuz when it's all you hear 

Shit can overbear just when the over in air 

So I try to think straight cuz when you stare in the rear 

Rest in peace Stewart Shakir, nigga yea 

I'm on another label, not that other label 

That mean it's no longer my problem, it's theirs 

Some say it's a conspire

I say if everybody's on the thrown that's just more motive to kill the heir 

Ask me about ‘Pump It Up' and I'm a think you sheep 

Oh you must not know I'm deep 

I'm so off of music so y'all can soundscan every week 

Me? I just got my little man every week 

Jersey City loves me despite y'all beliefs 

Cuz they was baby stepping, I showed them how to leap 

Ask me about swag, 

I'm a change the topic to lyrics and then brag 

Plus look at you like a fag 

I love everybody, don't ask about who I beef with 

They burnt the bridge but they was standing underneath it 

I'm on my grind, Benjamin hunting 

Was old since I was young, call me Benjamin Button 

Stop using slang just for you to be cool 

Cuz I go back to when it was cool to be you 

I'm a hero, no I mean I'm Hiro from Heroes 

Y'all chase zeros 

Motherfucker I just got finished hating me, feeling like a zero 

They played De Niro, never been there though 

So before your next thought, understand 

Know it's much more to me than a man 

Either that or move on



[Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"]

My rhymes a reflection of Scarface and Prem's soul 

Before Jordan was wearing four five 

I just look like this, I just seemed old 

But I had to bleed the blood of a dirty motherfucker 

To suffer clean clothes and touch what a king holds 

The real estate market is harsh, everything goes 

From folds to who you was doing everything for 

But I cut them off and move on to the new checks 

New friends chasing my new ends with new threats 

Watching my dreams fold like a stack of bills 

In the pocket of who ain't trying to push up daffodils 

But we the super group, you couldn't handle this shit 

If you were standing before us carrying the pooper scoop 

You dealt with shady shit? I dealt with shady shit 

But I'm the only one can truly say I dealt with Shady's shit 

I mean that with all respect to Paul and Sheck 

But Ryan and Marshal is all you get 

My flows superb, I love Pauli Rosenberg 	

What I say in a track those just words 

Baby boy forgive me, I'm just street 

Cuz I can change into anything niggas want me to be like Mystique

I don't got to dig deep to realize 

Slim bought Big Proof a big jeep 

Because he deserved it, how can I mourn 

The same way Shady did over him when he knew him when he attended Osborne?

Marshal I'm sorry, I knew it went left 

I ain't into fucking my family like incest 

If you remember ice used to be my life's interest 

Tell Hailey my wife just had a princess 

Since I made up with Em there's nothing else 

That I can move on from so who wants some 

Like a jar of Grey Poupon 

You have to ask anybody in any car 

Want it? Or move on



[Verse 4: Crooked I]

When fans picture my interviews they think I'm in a swimming pool 

With women who've been abused 

So they turn into strippers making they living in the nude 

One in the middle blowing my inner tube while the interviewers getting ridiculed 

Is this your vision? Cool. Let me give you a little jewel 

Any dude who want to sit in my tennis shoes is missing screws 

Don't get it misconstrued, don't get this shit confused 

I'm two seconds from prison food, I'm a different dude 

Pistol in my reach, man, still in Long Beach, man

Hoping if my grind don't help me get out, my speech can 

I been in the streets longer than Yao Ming's wingspan 

You can be MTV, I'll be C-Span 

I deal with politics, bandannas and hollow tips 

Half you rappers follow this, role models can swallow dick 

Was stressed out over cash flow 

Hip-Hop used to console my soul, now it's a bunch of assholes 

Rap about a dance while I'm targeting cops 

Spit some shit for Oscar Grant, hit the sergeant with shots 

Make him a (ghost) like he part of The Lox 

I won't stop recording till I'm making songs harder than Pac's 

If it don't happen, at least a nigga know he right there 

Every memory under my Dodger hat's a nightmare 

As a kid I had to steal breakfast 

And now the best question you have to ask me, "Is this a real necklace?"

"Where's your beat from Dre?" "Your feature from Cube?"

These things leave people confused 

Cuz they know I leave speakers abused, I eat the EQs 

I eat through the beat, what's the secret? I think it's the shoes 

Back in Cali, niggas blaze and stress 

Waiting on Detox to save the West 

Even if the shit is dope it ain't giving you niggas hope 

Unless your signature's wrote on the check from Interscope, nope

Move on




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Taal: Engels

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