paroles de chanson Slaughterhouse - Joe Budden
Joey
what
you
said,
24
right
Aight
cool,
I
got
you
I
define
gutter
- every
time
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
wishing,
that's
word
to
my
mother
You
throw
a
shot
at
me,
I'm
throwing
a
shot
back
Yours
is
on
a
joint,
mine's
whistling
by
your
top
hat
Yeah,
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
lying
They
fifth
is
lying
in
the
second
drawer
next
door
to
some
bullshit
they
iron
Y'all
be
making
up
stories
the
little
kids
is
buyin'
I
do
everything
my
Penn
State
like
a
Nittany
Lion
I
ain't
gotta
mention
the
streets
on
a
song
To
get
in
a
nigga
ass
on
these
beats
like
a
thong
- pause
Veterans
co-sign
me,
the
up-and-comers
scared
The
pretty
girls
go,
"papi,
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
the
gats
go
crazy
Fuck
a
lecture,
ain't
tryna
be
Pun's
successor
That
term's
done
fucker,
what
up
whatever
You
birds
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
Dropping
bombs
for
fun
then
dine
in
Hell
during
Ramadan
Whatever
I'm
rhyming
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
of
a
brick
of
hash
mixed
with
acid
hits
like
sick
cracker
shit
Get
back,
dumb
birds
I
ignore
the
hype
Click-clack,
Yung
Berged
if
you
flossing
ice
Dawg,
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
Still
mourn
at
night,
don't
wanna
see
mornin'
light
And
I
feel
like
I'm
forced
to
fight
When
the
+Chips+
are
down
like
Ponch
fallin'
off
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
diddy-boppin
You
wasn't
really,
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
evolving
but
grown
bitter
On
your
grave
they're
carvin',
"fucked
with
the
wrong
nigga"
I
don't
write
I
kill
a
pen,
leak
its
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
eating
the
deceased
like
quiche
Only
when
my
enemy's
internal
organs
are
a
smorgasbord
in
a
feast
The
Dahmer
with
melanin
led
'em
in
the
belly
of
the
beast
You'll
be
missin'
until
fishermen
see
your
corpse
I'll
be
in
Michigan
sticking
a
chicken
in
my
Michelin
Ready
to
pigeon
pitch
again
from
Switzerland
to
New
York
I
was
whipping
Bentleys
before
them
pictures
up
in
The
Source
I'm
a
gorillas
behind
these
bars,
on
some
zoo
shit
Shoot
you
while
you're
talking
on
some
news
camera
crew's
shit
Sicker
than
flyin'
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
Tryna
keep
your
stomach
intact
The
spiritual
you,
leavin
your
body,
he
don't
wanna
go
back
That's
when
the
tunnel
go
black
I
send
your
soul
to
the
atmosphere
Fuck
outta
here
and
your
ringtone
rap
career
It's
Crooked
I,
the
face
of
Eastside
Long
Beach
Put
your
ear
to
the
street
so
you
can
hear
my
heartbeat
Nickel,
yeah
I
hope
niggas
know
I'll
show
up
to
your
show
I'll
show
up
where
you
go,
show
up
to
your
do',
fo's
will
explode
Shells
'fore
they
hit
the
floor,
I
know
niggas
know
I
got
a
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,
"sheeeeeeeeeeee-it"
Cause
when
it
come
to
them
words
you
know
I
wear
shit
out
I
write
rhymes
like,
white
lines
on
a
nose
tray
Ice
cold
Ice
Cube
flow
like
O'Shea
Ridin'
shotgun
with
Chris
Martin
my
DJ
Not
the
White
boy,
but
I'm
down
for
the
Coldplay
Forever
stay
violent,
better
stay
silent
Hammers
stay
humming
like
strumming
the
mandolin
violin
Speaking
of,
I
done
played
a
tune
of
violence
More
than
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
Til
it
ain't
no
mo',
ain't
no
dough
Get
into
his
ass
cause
I
ain't
opposed,
I'm
a
livin'
anal
probe
I'm
a
lame-ophobe,
matter
fact
my
nigga
JumpOff
Can
I
keep
goin'
(why
the
fuck
not)
When
I
was
a
teen,
I
used
to
pack
a
three-eighty
Now
I'm
spittin
sittin'
between
Shady
and
Jay
I
pull
the
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
They
say
he
a
bastard
for
real,
then
they
see
the
ass
on
his
girl
So
they
wonderin',
why's
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
Bush
rendish
Endless,
move
more
than
two
inches
My
blood'll
boil
like
I
got
a
big
skin
cyst
So
end
this
or
see
me
mañana
Or
see
the
speed
of
a
llama,
underground
prima
donna
That
ain't
hard
to
find,
pop
a
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
mine
and
meet
nine,
mano-a-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
an
eagle
eye
Closed
casket,
now
you
having
a
boxed
wake
Zipper
over
your
head,
dudes
callin'
you
Crotchface
So
y'all
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
fag's
might
bust
And
since
poppin'
tags
is
a
must
I
hit
the
bank
all
I
do
is
withdraw
Chicks
removin'
their
drawers
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,
'til
you
get
hot
leaded
Til
everything
but
your
torso
on
you
is
prosthetic
Digest
it,
niggas
is
pie-thetic
Rap
what
you
can't
afford,
y'all
must
got
credit
All
you
gotta
know
is
Crooked
I,
Royce,
Bless
and
Joell
With
Joe
spell,
NO
L
1 Intro
2 On My Grind
3 Overkill
4 Check Me Out
5 Sidetracked
6 Slaughterhouse
7 Under the Sun
8 The Soul
9 Anything Goes
10 Go to Hell
11 Just to Be Different
12 Touch & Go
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