[00:00.170][Intro:] |
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[00:00.614] |
Check the scene, pappas |
[00:05.943] |
Slaughterhouse, still standin |
[00:09.653] |
There was a murder last night |
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and the shit didn't really sit right with me |
[00:14.851] |
So I had to tell a story |
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Ohhhhhhhhh baby! |
[00:20.676] |
Blood on the walls, {?} |
[00:22.453][Joe Budden] |
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[00:22.818] |
America's worst nightmare, ahead by light years |
[00:25.953] |
Hip-Hop's only shining star in the night's air |
[00:28.827] |
Right here, don't fight fair, what I write yeah |
[00:31.491] |
Might there, throw 'em off like they Bobby Knight's chair |
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I been where you tryin to be, I'm already hot |
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All about cake, Betty Crock' and spit ready rock |
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They know my bar came venom in a bezzie rock |
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Kicked from fight club, outfit from Eddie Brock |
[00:46.015] |
I'm goin for the kill, focused on a steady plot |
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John Wilkes the Booth like when he dead aimed his nezzie shot |
[00:51.762] |
You listenin to hip-hop's finest |
[00:54.662] |
You rewind this, Slaughterhouse behind this |
[00:57.796][Joell Ortiz] |
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[00:57.979] |
I like rap, this shit is cool, I'm better than mad niggaz |
[01:00.330] |
But I'm just as good a crack pitcher as a pad ripper |
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I say that to say this |
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Don't let mad liquor turn me to a bodybag zipper and not a ad-libber |
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Couple joints ago I was right on that ave wit'cha |
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Mad bigger than the cats David Tyree had last winter |
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I'm not a made-up character |
[01:16.892] |
That's a Puerto Rican Brooklynite with two kids y'all see in them mag pictures |
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And however I gotta feed 'em I will |
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All they ever gon' need in life is just, me and my will |
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Interfere with that it's gon' be more than a beat that I kill |
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Disrespect with an indirect and you will see if I'm real |
[01:31.364][Crooked I] |
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**** you blood-suckin parasites |
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I'm bringin the terror right in front of your parents' sight |
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You parents' eyes, and yeah I wear a pair of pipes |
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I wear 'em like Sega like on a pair of thighs |
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I'm Eric Wright, I'm (Ruthless), I terrorize |
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You'll either perish or be paralyzed; I'm a thousand degrees Fahrenheit |
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I'm even keepin them heaters when we perform |
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On stage rockin like we from Korn, the people roar |
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What they don't know it's a secret war |
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inside of a rider I'm seekin revenge on the world for bein born! |
[02:00.177] |
And the desert eagle is "mi amor" |
[02:02.606] |
She'll **** you to death, blow your brains, either or cause she a whore |
[02:06.185][Royce Da 5'9"] |
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Allow me to reassure your stripe's worthless |
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Like a pair of Diadora's when it leaves the Adidas store |
[02:11.801] |
Don't be comparin us to rappers |
[02:13.969] |
Compare us to the Arabs, this a terrorist attack, uh - BOOM! |
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Lord have mercy, we here to destroy EVERY-thing |
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You niggaz is butter in front a ****IN machete swing |
[02:23.373] |
Mother****er I'm fly, I ain't no scary goon |
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Try me and I guarantee you I'ma see you very soon |
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Leave a nigga ass out like Prince, take his bitch |
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Put my (Graffiti Bridge) right (Under Her Cherry Moon) (woo!) |
[02:35.050] |
We notorious, pushin them Porsches |
[02:37.532] |
Y'all niggaz the orphans; US, we the warriors |
[02:40.562][Interlude: unknown woman] |
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Ohhhhh, wait a minute papis |
[02:44.663] |
Royce, slow down baby |
[02:45.996][Joe Budden] |
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This rap shit is a workout on my legs (why?) |
[02:48.921] |
A nigga goin hard on his bike but two million dudes is jumpin on the pegs |
[02:51.690] |
They know when that raw shit get recorded |
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Either let your speakers enforce it or lay down in a moshpit |
[02:57.751] |
Of course it's the bosses, actin like officers |
[03:00.598] |
Runnin in these corporate offices |
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Hungry lookin for a four-course dish no matter what the cost is |
[03:05.953] |
Like the world's lawless so we don't know what remorse is |
[03:09.192] |
Cause the V need like a thousand horses |
[03:12.040] |
Slaughterhouse hoodie on, that's my new couture shit |
[03:15.070] |
It's Jumpoff! He be the best |
[03:17.473] |
Computers rank me number 1, blame the BCS |
[03:20.477] |
It's they fault nigga |
[03:21.888][Joell Ortiz] |
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[03:22.201] |
Ask about your boy, I'm nice with my hands |
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Maybe that's why, every last thing I write is a jam |
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Minus the fans, the flights to Japan, I am the man |
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Anyone who feel they could see me is in dire need of a eye exam |
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My mind expands wider than the fanbase of a fire band |
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And what I release from my diaphragm |
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sticks to you, like the wrists of Spiderman |
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Fool a average listeners what you liars can do but you will die a scam |
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When I die they will retire my entire hand |
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for years of scripted whoop-ass, makin intruders try a can |
[03:49.395] |
I guess the moral of the story is Joell's victorious |
[03:52.320] |
And e'rything's all gravy like Notorious |
[03:54.828][Crooked I] |
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[03:54.985] |
I left a nigga dead cause he said he was ready for I |
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Let the Beretta give him wings since he said he was fly |
[03:59.948] |
I'm in my Chevy ridin to "Bar Exam" and "Mood Muzik" |
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They the closest to "Reasonable Doubt" and "Ready to Die" |
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Crooked I, watch for snitches and wire devices |
[04:08.856] |
My fo'-fifth, fire in crisis, lift you higher than prices |
[04:11.860] |
All my ice, and on the mic, I am the nicest |
[04:14.524] |
Me and my bitch ride for life like Osirus and Isis |
[04:17.685] |
Yeah, word to Run-D.M.C. I'm (Tougher Than Leather-face) |
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Never threw a gun in the trash but they call me Weapon Waist |
[04:23.720] |
It's like you movin from the projects to the Hamptons |
[04:26.489] |
The way my hammers be sendin bastards to a better place |
[04:29.571][Royce Da 5'9"] |
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Let me set it straight, they fans been led astray |
[04:32.131] |
Niggaz keep gassin with guns with unleaded spray |
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They don't know they one flow, one medic away |
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From bein taken away from here in the leaded state |
[04:40.830] |
I handle all of my serious issues with metal |
[04:43.520] |
I stick you so deep in the earth your zipper can tickle the devil |
[04:46.342] |
I'm skippin the pick and the shovel |
[04:48.327] |
I'm pickin you up and I'm shovin your head in the mud until your kickings is level |
[04:52.193] |
Pardon I live for the moment, you rhymin I give the atonement |
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like the Indians, I scalp and I wig the opponent (yeah) |
[04:58.123] |
But I'm a chief, matter fact I'm a BEAST |
[05:00.500] |
I'm a mother****in Slaughterhouse G |
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BOOM! |