paroles de chanson Onslaught 2 - Slaughterhouse , Fatman Scoop
Yeah,
I
said,
"Once
upon
a
time
in
a
city
that′s
mine"
There
was
a
nigga
named
Nickel
that
spit
like
Big
in
his
prime
He
got
a
52
box,
original
tick
in
the
mind
Listenin'
to
′Pac
and
them
drop
with
a
prestigious
design
My
niggaz
is
dimes,
my
bitches
is
dimes
I
came
up
behind
Eminem
in
'99
and
I
took
the
baton
I
been
runnin'
shit
ever
since
then,
slaughtered
MC′s
Sit
and
watchin′
my
green
grow
like
I'm
waterin′
seeds
The
problem
with
me
is
I'm
the
heart
of
the
streets
Niggaz
callin′
for
peace,
they
can't
even
call
the
police
If
I
ain′t
better
than
you
I'm
harder
to
beat
Probably
'cause
I
live
by
the
art
of
for
keeps
I
get
indicted
after
my
product′s
released
We
a
different
form,
a
different
centrifugal
force
Every
line
is
like
grippin′
on
a
stick
shift
in
a
Porsche
My
niggaz
asked
for
direction
to
go
on
this
track
I
said,
"Fuck
a
direction,
spaz
out,
get
'em
up
high"
Crooked
and
for
them
wack
songs
that
you
made
I
want
you
to
throw
your
pin,
but
hold
the
grenade
Explode
to
your
grave
and
go
straight
to
hell
When
your
soul
is
en-flamed
for
the
road
that
you
paved
The
role
that
played,
in
fuckin′
up
hip-hop
You
owe
so
you
paid,
the
fo'-fo′
close
to
your
brain
Closer
than
the
close
shave
of
a
low
fuckin'
fade
Don′t
fuck
with
me,
don't
fuck
with
J
O
E
With
Nickel
we
gon'
make
more
cheese
Heavy
hitter,
call
me
Joell
David
Ortiz
I
point
a
burner
at
the
plaque
on
your
teeth
On
some
leftover
shit,
it′s
a
wrap
on
the
beef
I′m
one
in
a
mil',
comin′
to
kill
It's
like
you
wanting
a
pill,
my
gun
put
your
back
on
the
streets
Spine
on
the
concrete
lookin′
at
the
sun
Eyelids
heavy,
"Why
did
Crooked
have
to
come?"
He
was
full
of
'gnac
and
rum,
like
a
bully
actin′
dumb
Fully
automatic
umm,
that's
Crooked
havin'
fun
Listen,
don′t
make
a
nigga
find
your
dame
And
make
the
dime
give
me
brains
′til
my
mind
is
drained
Listen,
don't
make
me
grab
a
9 and
aim
And
how
your
dime
did
me,
do
yo′
mind
the
same
But
different,
the
West
Coast
king
Crooked
I
I'm
a
kamikaze
pilot,
I
stay
fly
′til
I
die,
get
'em
up
high
Joell,
here
we
go
again,
you
know
I′m
him,
Mr.
Ortiz
Soon
as
I
hold
a
pen
I
co-defend
the
sickest
MC's
Pick
a
disease
we
got
it,
I
vomit
sniffle
and
sneeze
Lyrics
squeeze,
listen
please,
Lord,
help
get
rid
of
this
fever
I'm
like
150
degrees
16′s
used
to
be
sweet,
now
they′re
a
bit
of
a
tease
A
nigga
need
a
infinite
instrumental
just
to
be
pleased
Used
to
dream
about
livin'
now
I′m
livin'
my
dreams
The
bitches
fiend,
made
my
dick
a
machine
Maybe
I′m
wrong,
maybe
I
am
just
as
fuckin'
big
as
I
seem
When
I′m
spittin'
this
mean,
me
and
government
intervene
A
couple
presidents,
literally
live
in
my
jeans
I
give
'em
residence,
they
just
let
me
pick
anything
When
I′m
in
the
mall,
they
show
me
the
latest
kicks
on
the
scene
And
I
get
′em
all,
I
ball
like
the
nigga
I
am
Niggaz
hate,
bitches
cheer
like
Norm,
Cliff
and
Diane
I'm
in
a
state,
of
mind
that
should
be
the
fifty
verse
I
run
radio
but
I
don′t
use
them
itty
bitty
words
I
ain't
shabby
with
the
nouns,
I
ain′t
shitty
with
the
verb
When
I
reach
heaven
I
want
the
nigga
Biggie
to
be
like
word
City
slicker,
New
York
delivery
when
I
swerve
Hold
that
mic
like
the
Statue
of
Liberty,
I
deserve
A
shot
at
the
title,
spitter
of
the
year,
every
year,
let's
be
clear
Put
some
fingers
in
the
air
and
hold
′em
up
high
Joey,
work
on
your
half-court
shot,
I'm
money
from
far
Get
'em
mad,
see
a
ape
on
your
monkey
bars
And
that′s
rate,
gettin′
hate
from
the
wannabe
stars
And
that's
great,
mean
he
feel
it
and
know
he
numb
See
that
bullet
comin′
from
around
the
corner
Like
a
shot
from
Angelina
Jolie's
gun,
think
Joey
the
one
I′m
a
fake,
ain't
your
run
of
the
mill?
I′m
from
where
they
kill
you
for
one
of
your
bills
For
me
it's
fun,
your
man
think
we
evenly
skilled
He
Mel
Gibson,
all
that
shit
he
believe,
gon'
get
his
son
killed
Play
with
a
match,
fuck
what
you
take
it
as
No
good
straight
jacket,
all
I
did
break
the
match
They
say
he
talk
tough
with
his
fake
ass
Four
pounds
put
me
in
another
weight
class
Great
Escape
the
pad
Took
the
jumpsuit
off
my
naked
ass
and
ate
the
mask
You
diss
me,
you
wanna
be
a
great
that
fast?
Take
a
fully
automatic
and
spray
at
gas
Me?
Body
a
whole
shit
with
a
verse
probably
atrocious
In
your
whole
camp,
nobody
focused
They
say
you
the
Ultimate
Warrior,
I
agree
You
die
and
come
back,
won′t
nobody
know
this
Drive
by,
screamin′
it's
a
new
crew
reppin′
Hangin'
out
the
window,
like
it′s
227,
get
'em
up
high
Get
′em
up
high,
get
'em
up
high
Get
'em
up
high,
get
′em
up
high
Get
′em
up
high
in
the
sky
Put
'em
up
high,
put
′em
up
high
Put
'em
up
high,
fingers
in
the
sky
Put
′em
up,
Slaughterhouse,
Slaughterhouse
Ohh,
ohh,
Fatman
Scoop,
Slaughterhouse
Fatman
Scoop,
Slaughterhouse
Put
'em
high,
woo,
ohh
1 Pray (It's A Shame)
2 The Phone Call (skit)
3 The Phone Call 2 - Skit
4 Sound Off
5 Lyrical Murderers
6 Microphone
7 Not Tonight
8 The One
9 In The Mind Of Madness (skit)
10 Cuckoo
11 Onslaught 2
12 Cut You Loose
13 Salute
14 Rain Drops
15 Killaz
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