*Intro Music (Women’s voice) Check this scene, boppers Slaughterhouse, still standing There was a murder last night and shit didn’t really sit right with me so I had to tell a story Ahhhhhh baby, blood on the wall, street life
Verse 1: Joe Budden 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 here Might there, throw em off like their Bobby Knight’s chair I’ve been where you’re tryin to be, I’m already hot All about cake, Betty Crock and spit ready rock They know my bar game venom and bezzy rock Kicks from fight club, outfit from Eddie Brock I’m going for the kill, focused on the steady plot John Wilkes the booth, like when he dead aimed his mezzy shot You listening to hip hop’s finest You rewind this, Slaughterhouse behind this
Verse 2: Joell Ortiz I like rap, this shit is cool, I’m better then mad niggas But I’m just as good 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 an ad-libber Couple joints ago I was right on that Ave which Your mag bigger then the catch David Tyree had last winter I’m not a made up character That’s a Puerto Rican Brooklynite with two kids yall see in the mag (pause) And however I got to feed them I will All they’ll ever need in life is me and my will Interfere with that it’s gonna be more then a beat that I kill Disrespect with an indirect and you’re gonna see if I’m real
Verse 3: Crooked I Fuck you bloodsucking parasites I’m bringing the terror right in from of your parent’s sight Your parents’ eyes And yeah I where a pair of pipes I wear em like cellulite on the pair of thighs I’m Eric Wright, I’m ruthless, I terrorize You’ll either parish or be paralyzed I’m a 1000 degrees Farenheit I’m even keepin them heaters when we perform On stage rockin like we from Korn, the people roar But they don’t know it’s a secret war Inside of a rider, I’m seeking revenge on the world for being born And the desert eagle is mi amor She'll fuck you to death, blow your brains Either or, cause she a whore
Verse 4: Royce da 5’9” Allow me to reassure your stripes worthless Like a pair of Diadors when it leaves the Adidas store Don’t be comparing us to rappers Compare us to the Arabs, this is a terrorist attack (boom) Lord have mercy, we here to destroy everything You niggas is butter in front of fuckin machete swings Motherfucker I’m fly, I ain’t no scary goon Try me and I guarantee I’m gonna see you very soon Leave a nigga ass out like Prince Take his bitch, put my graffiti bridge right under her cherry moon We notorious, pushing these porsches Ya’ll niggas is orphans to us, ahh we the Warriors
(Women’s Voice) Ahh wait a minute, doctors, lawyers, slow down baby
Verse 5: Joe Budden This rap shit is a workout on my legs A nigga going hard on his bike, but two many dudes is jumpin on the pegs Ain’t know when that raw shit get recorded Either let your speakers enforce it or lay it down in a mosh pit Of course it’s the bosses acting like officers Running in these corporate offices Hungry looking for a four course dish, no matter what the cost is Like the world’s lawless and we don’t know what remorse is Cause the V needs like a 1000 horses Slaughterhouse hoody on, that’s my new Courture shit Jumpoff, he be the best Computers rank me #1, blame the BCS, it’s their fault nigga
Verse 6: Joell Ortiz Ask about your boy, I’m nice with my hand 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 can see me is in dire need of an eye exam My mind expands wider then a fan base of a fire ban And what I release from my diaphragm sticks to you Like the wrist of Spiderman Full of average listeners is what you liars can do, but you gonna die