Slaughterhouse - BET Cypher 2013 | Текст песни

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• Slaughterhouse
• BET Cypher 2013

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[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]
I been here before and I don't mean the last cypher
I'm a pen and pad sniper
When y'all make it rain you make your little stash lighter
When I make it rain you driving on tough terrain in a lemon with bad wipers
I hear all the noise like mad bikers
Hip hop making a big stink like if Shaq had diapers
Bunch of half ass liars, with mad hyper reactions to the backpack writers
But the pack's back tigers
Be a hyena that laughs at lions
Let you body something then I snatch that
And a left hook will send your gold snapback flyin'
Put you birds in the dirt like I sacked Matt Ryan
I never tried to be cool, it's just finesse
But as a man there's a few of your moves I must address
Not tryna judge but ooh I must confess
Never thought I'd see hip hop dudes under a dress
But back to me, I'm smooth, one of the best
Better than you, two letters from "U" up on chest
But no red cape, just redbones in red bottoms
High, ready to shred weights to Redman's Red Tapes
They see how the car rolling
Gold seven and the car dash crack like Lamar Odom
You hear the bars that my squad holding
BET thank us again for another hard moment

(Verse on my channel)

[Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"]
Slaughterhouse, state of emergency
Bars for days, Mardi Gras, Bourbon Street
Silencing this 9 so no noise flash out
Shout out to Big Sean and Doughboyz Cashout
Shoutout to Yeezus, 99' I've been raping his pockets
From doing me I stayed in the pocket
Now all I'm trying to do is give Halle Berry a baby today, then I'm outtie tomorrow
After that maybe Drake can adopt it
You missed me with your "Who the hottest?" list
Only demand I got is I ain't sharin' no spots
I light your baby mama house on fire while she in it
And turn around and tell her now it's apparent she hot
The McLaren is dropped, I was riding shotgun with Em before anyone could compared him to Pac
They don't call us the return of the house for nothing
We taking real estate back
Killers stay strapped
Leave a rapper with gorilla face, flat
I went away and came back like smack
My mental state
You 'bout to fall trying to see the [winter](undefined) break
Wish I could take all of that Gucci out of my closet
And that vest that Joey wore on show on that dinner date
And shoot it 'til it disintergrates
You think I fell off, then you either out of your mind
Or inside of your mind lookin' out of your [blinds](undefined) countin' my truths
While I'm out at your momma's house sippin' the fountain of youth
I'm nice

[Verse 4: Joe Budden]
I ain't with the chit-chat
Punch me, I'll show up where you live at pitch black
Both of y'all can relax when it kick back
Tryna run like that will give you the right of way
I'm quick on my feet I can moonwalk sideways
God like flow, Jesus rapping
Housegang, G's is rapping
He's just yapping, all that beef and scrapping like Miley Cyrus twerking
Something supposed to be shaking, I just never see it happen
That other chick that would try to get cute
Not a dime but she's shooting and her Vines never loop
But she'd suck the whole group if she'd ride for the night
And turn Slaughterhouse into City High for a night
Forget where the Ruger put, your crew is shook
Ahead of my time, get you hit now from a Future hook
If lyrics matter we will spare the matter
But none of that is important cause what you wear is a factor
And it's getting me upset, riddle me for a sec
Literally unimpressed with who y'all pick to be the best
So if I'm chosing where to aim it'll be his head
Just to kill whoever's nice, now chivalry is dead
It's either you or me, since you love hip hop
I'll have Wale say spoken word at your eulogy
Joey, Team Shady, Slaughter dudes
When you