- Album Intro
- Lyrics
- Album list
Slaughterhouse
-
Sound Off
Lyricist:Joseph Budden, Ryan Montgomery, Joell Ortiz, Nicholas Warwar, Dominick Wickliffe
You herbs we merged, we're an alliance We fight fire with flamethrowers, why would you try us? We an outfit, equivalent to Voltron's That boy Crooked I is equivalent to four arms
Joell Ortiz is the body, the cannibal slash killer Kill you then eat your body, Joe Budden is the pair of legs He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head I am the general, bow now, fuck saluting
I don't really think y'all niggas get it Run up on your with a army it is on until it's done, finished You got a problem with any one of my slaughters Then y'all niggas can come with it
Me and Joey, we a perfect fit He like starting shit, I like ending shit I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit It ain't intricate
I'm gon' shoot your stupid ass You too could laugh, you gon' die smiling Try wilding, I get hostile then I'm violent I don't make threats nigga I promise
My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics If you hear it, it'll lift your spirit Turn your appearance into a disappearance Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick
I fuck with nothing but gangstas Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut I fuck with nothing but my clique Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut
I fuck with nothing but gangstas Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut I put my money on my clique, hot shit Coming out the barrel of my fifth
I got a raw flow and I stay hungry more so Guess that's why I'm the torso I pour sweat when I perform shows What I record goes down as the best But the vets won't let that torch go
Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now And flamethrowers and I got one on my back right now Remain focused, that's what I tell myself now and then Don't wanna go back to that block like when Varejão defends
Uh, oh, my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends Every human out of my sight before I count to ten One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight I'm hungry like I never ate Set a table up with knives, forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate
All these sweet dummies looking me like a pepper steak Means we never separate, we ain't married Jab it every time I touch a pen, I sort of set a date I'll devastate your career, look I'm a demonstrate Let me get a good breath take before I regulate
Okay, bye, bye you guys, don't try to rhyme 'Cause line for line what I design is mine and mine Sport a joint divine, meaning right behind And thank God it shines all the light in mine So my eyes can find a nice dime to grind Come here girl, toma, toma, take that, take that
I fuck with nothing but gangstas Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut I fuck with nothing but my clique Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut
I fuck with nothing but gangstas Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut I put my money on my clique, hot shit Coming out the barrel of my fifth
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com You rappers chasing popularity by any means Doing silly things, buying too many size 20 skinny jeans The west treat me like I'm really king I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing niggas seen
You rappers dressing like you fitting to sing Billie Jean I got to intervene, fuck you I'm a intervene You loud talking, wouldn't kill a thing Matter of fact, where's your head, nigga? I got the guillotine
Fuck your Hollywood Limousine and rented bling I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam I'll put your pad on your property, fag Properly rob you and hop in the Jag
If you stopping the profit, the glock will be popping your body You'll rock a colostomy bag, shot in the abs, moms will be sad Pops will be mad, doctor be glad Possibly be stopping the plasma dropping Clock running out and the outcome bad
Any one of you niggas fuck with my team? Pretty ass thing with the infrared beam Sleep on that and get killed while you dream Fuck a rap group Slaughterhouse a machine
Slaughterhouse, a regime I'm gooned up if you know what I mean Everybody wanna be down with the king No, no, no, no, no fly zone
I fuck with nothing but gangstas Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut I fuck with nothing but my clique Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut
I fuck with nothing but gangstas Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut I put my money on my clique, hot shit Coming out the barrel of my fifth
My one goal's to astonish, tell the President, VP Notify the Congress, they say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest I tell them keep an accomplice away from the accomplished They still making threats on your highness
But I tell them where I be, they just ignore the compass I think all your mans' play dough, I don't buy that movie, Fandango Fans they know that what? You a soldier to a general Baby steel, got it in a bag, airtight Navy SEAL
Tell them little dudes I ain't mad at y'all College kids like Asher Roth Y'all just trying to put food on the table While I'm a just come and try to snatch it off
If it ain't for me, most young dudes would be angrily But anxiously awaiting bankruptcy Wonder what makes little motherfuckers think they the same as me I'm synchronized you and your men should die
Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise Best bet is to attempt to fly Shit's a game, you down, you in for life
Fuck y'all, I ain't got to generalize Y'all enabled to write what the pen describes So when he asked what I meant and why, I tell him
I fuck with nothing but gangstas Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut I fuck with nothing but my clique Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut
I fuck with nothing but gangstas Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut I put my money on my clique, hot shit Coming out the barrel of my fifth
-
|