(feat. Slaughterhouse (Joe Budden, Crooked I, Joell Ortiz))
[Intro:]

Check the scene, pappas

Slaughterhouse, still standin

There was a murder last night

and the shit didn't really sit right with me

So I had to tell a story

Ohhhhhhhhh baby!

Blood on the walls, {?}



[Joe Budden]

America's worst nightmare, ahead by light years

Hip-Hop's only shining star in the night's air

Right here, don't fight fair, what I write yeah

Might there, throw 'em off like they Bobby Knight's chair

I been where you tryin to be, I'm already hot

All about cake, Betty Crock' and spit ready rock

They know my bar came venom in a bezzie rock

Kicked from fight club, outfit from Eddie Brock

I'm goin for the kill, focused on a steady plot

John Wilkes the Booth like when he dead aimed his nezzie shot

You listenin to hip-hop's finest

You rewind this, Slaughterhouse behind this



[Joell Ortiz]

I like rap, this shit is cool, I'm better than mad niggaz

But I'm just as good a crack pitcher as a pad ripper

I say that to say this

Don't let mad liquor turn me to a bodybag zipper and not a ad-libber

Couple joints ago I was right on that ave wit'cha

Mad bigger than the cats David Tyree had last winter

I'm not a made-up character

That's a Puerto Rican Brooklynite with two kids y'all see in them mag pictures

And however I gotta feed 'em I will

All they ever gon' need in life is just, me and my will

Interfere with that it's gon' be more than a beat that I kill

Disrespect with an indirect and you will see if I'm real



[Crooked I]

Fuck you blood-suckin parasites

I'm bringin the terror right in front of your parents' sight

You parents' eyes, and yeah I wear a pair of pipes

I wear 'em like Sega like on a pair of thighs

I'm Eric Wright, I'm (Ruthless), I terrorize

You'll either perish or be paralyzed; I'm a thousand degrees Fahrenheit

I'm even keepin them heaters when we perform

On stage rockin like we from Korn, the people roar

What they don't know it's a secret war

inside of a rider I'm seekin revenge on the world for bein born!

And the desert eagle is "mi amor"

She'll fuck you to death, blow your brains, either or cause she a whore



[Royce Da 5'9"]

Allow me to reassure your stripe's worthless

Like a pair of Diadora's when it leaves the Adidas store

Don't be comparin us to rappers

Compare us to the Arabs, this a terrorist attack, uh - BOOM!

Lord have mercy, we here to destroy EVERY-thing

You niggaz is butter in front a FUCKIN machete swing

Motherfucker I'm fly, I ain't no scary goon

Try me and I guarantee you I'ma see you very soon

Leave a nigga ass out like Prince, take his bitch

Put my (Graffiti Bridge) right (Under Her Cherry Moon) (woo!)

We notorious, pushin them Porsches

Y'all niggaz the orphans; US, we the warriors



[Interlude:]

Ohhhhh, wait a minute papis

Royce, slow down baby



[Joe Budden]

This rap shit is a workout on my legs (why?)

A nigga goin hard on his bike but two million dudes is jumpin on the pegs

They know when that raw shit get recorded

Either let your speakers enforce it or lay down in a moshpit

Of course it's the bosses, actin like officers

Runnin in these corporate offices

Hungry lookin for a four-course dish no matter what the cost is

Like the world's lawless so we don't know what remorse is

Cause the V need like a thousand horses

Slaughterhouse hoodie on, that's my new couture shit

It's Jumpoff! He be the best

Computers rank me number 1, blame the BCS

It's they fault nigga



[Joell Ortiz]

Ask about your boy, I'm nice with my hands

Maybe that's why, every last thing I write is a jam

Minus the fans, the flights to Japan, I am the man

Anyone who feel they could see me is in dire need of a eye exam

My mind expands wider than the fanbase of a fire band

And what I release from my diaphragm

sticks to you, like the wrists of Spiderman

Fool a average listeners what you liars can do but you will die a scam

When I die they will retire my entire hand

for years of scripted whoop-ass, makin intruders try a can

I guess the moral of the story is Joell's victorious

And e'rything's all gravy like Notorious



[Crooked I]

I left a nigga dead cause he said he was ready for I

Let the Beretta give him wings since he said he was fly

I'm in my Chevy ridin to "Bar Exam" and "Mood Muzik"

They the closest to "Reasonable Doubt" and "Ready to Die"

Crooked I, watch for snitches and wire devices

My fo'-fifth, fire in crisis, lift you higher than prices

All my ice, and on the mic, I am the nicest

Me and my bitch ride for life like Osirus and Isis

Yeah, word to Run-D.M.C. I'm (Tougher Than Leather-face)

Never threw a gun in the trash but they call me Weapon Waist

It's like you movin from the projects to the Hamptons

The way my hammers be sendin bastards to a better place



[Royce Da 5'9"]

Let me set it straight, they fans been led astray

Niggaz keep gassin with guns with unleaded spray

They don't know they one flow, one medic away

From bein taken away from here in the leaded state

I handle all of my serious issues with metal

I stick you so deep in the earth your zipper can tickle the devil

I'm skippin the pick and the shovel

I'm pickin you up and I'm shovin your head in the mud until your kickings is level

Pardon I live for the moment, you rhymin I give the atonement

like the Indians, I scalp and I wig the opponent (yeah)

But I'm a chief, matter fact I'm a BEAST

I'm a motherfuckin Slaughterhouse G

BOOM!