Slaughterhouse

Slaughterhouse - Slaughterhouse songtekst

Je score:
[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!




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Taal: Engels

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