(feat. Slaughterhouse)
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[Intro:]
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Check the scene, pappas
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Slaughterhouse, still standin
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There was a murder last night
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and the shit didn't really sit right with me
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So I had to tell a story
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Ohhhhhhhhh baby!
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Blood on the walls, {?}
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[Joe Budden]
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America's worst nightmare, ahead by light years
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Hip-Hop's only shining star in the night's air
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Right here, don't fight fair, what I write yeah
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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
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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
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You listenin to hip-hop's finest
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You rewind this, Slaughterhouse behind this
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[Joell Ortiz]
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I like rap, this shit is cool, I'm better than mad niggaz
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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
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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
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[Crooked I]
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Fuck 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!
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And the desert eagle is "mi amor"
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She'll fuck you to death, blow your brains, either or cause she a whore
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[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
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Don't be comparin us to rappers
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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 FUCKIN machete swing
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Motherfucker 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!)
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We notorious, pushin them Porsches
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Y'all niggaz the orphans; US, we the warriors
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[Interlude: unknown woman]
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Ohhhhh, wait a minute papis
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Royce, slow down baby
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[Joe Budden]
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This rap shit is a workout on my legs (why?)
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A nigga goin hard on his bike but two million dudes is jumpin on the pegs
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They know when that raw shit get recorded
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Either let your speakers enforce it or lay down in a moshpit
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Of course it's the bosses, actin like officers
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Runnin in these corporate offices
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Hungry lookin for a four-course dish no matter what the cost is
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Like the world's lawless so we don't know what remorse is
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Cause the V need like a thousand horses
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Slaughterhouse hoodie on, that's my new couture shit
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It's Jumpoff! He be the best
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Computers rank me number 1, blame the BCS
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It's they fault nigga
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[Joell Ortiz]
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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
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I guess the moral of the story is Joell's victorious
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And e'r |