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