Joe Budden, Slaughterhouse, Nino Bless - Slaughterhouse lyrics

Joey what you said, 24 right
Aight cool, I got you
I define gutter - every time I rhyme
I climb up another notch
Hip-Hop got my spine smothered
But I'll be fine brother - my mind hovers
Above all you jive suckers wishing
That's word to my mother
You throw a shot at me
I'm throwing a shot back
Yours is on a joint
Mine's whistling by your top hat
Yeah, I'm cool but you violate
And I'll cock back
Open the mac's mouth and black out
Like I do not rap
I'm sick and tired of niggas lying
They fifth is lying in the second drawer
Next door to some bullshit they iron
Y'all be making up stories the
Little kids is buyin'


I do everything my Penn State
Like a Nittany Lion
I ain't gotta mention the streets on a song
To get in a nigga ass on these
Beats like a thong - pause
Veterans co-sign me, the up-and-comers scared
The pretty girls go, "papi
Here's my underwear"
Never in a hundred years I
Thought I'd be a rapper
But in less than a hundred bars
I knew I'd be a factor
I'm PS4 in HD and the screen is plasma
You're Atari 2600 with a weak adapter
Between us the gap's so crazy
I'm Gucci, Louis V you're Gap, Old Navy
I get coochie in the V, you attract no ladies
You're suburb
I'm gutter where the gats go crazy

Fuck a lecture
Ain't tryna be Pun's successor
That term's done fucker, what up whatever
You birds is food
I'm about to pluck some feathers
I'm young and clever, plus
Clutch under pressure, yup
Who does this better
Walk around with metal all on me
Like the front of Shredder
I lust for cheddar you owe me
Leave holes in your vest that'll open
Your chest like a sunken treasure
I'm somethin' like a phenomenon
Dropping bombs for fun then dine
In Hell during Ramadan
Whatever I'm rhyming on or whoever
I tear 'em apart swear on my pops
No fear in my heart, shit been through it all
Done swam with the sharks
Snapped fins with my jaws
I'm all that and a bag of the baddest piff
Off of a brick of hash mixed with
Acid hit's like sick cracker shit
Get back, dumb birds I ignore the hype
Click-clack, Yung Berged if you flossing ice
Dawg, cross me twice, can't afford the price
It'll cost you, I'll off your life you soft
I told you I'm raw white when I'm on this mic
Still mourn at night
Don't wanna see mornin' light
And I feel like I'm forced to fight
When the CHiPs are down like
Ponch fallin' off his bike
Of course my metaphors are type awesome
Right
I got 'em in awe, my aura's Jordan like
What's really poppin', who diddy-boppin
You wasn't really
Now you all Common and really conscious
I ain't with that silly nonsense
I really pop shit
My gun stay cocked like Biggie's optics
I stay evolving but grown bitter
On your grave they're carvin' "Fucked
With the wrong nigga"

I don't write I kill a pen
Leak it's blood on the page
I breathe bars like oxygen locked
My lungs in a cage
Instrumentals get fucked on the stage
A pedophile unless I dig in the crates
And fuck with somethin' my age
Forever vow, to never smile when I'm at peace
Only when I'm eating the deceased like quiche
Only when my enemy's internal organs are
A smorgasbord in a feast
The Dahmer with melanin led 'em in
The belly of the beast
You'll be missin' until fishermen
See your corpse
I'll be in Michigan sticking a
Chicken in my Michelin
Ready to pigeon pitch again from
Switzerland to New York
I was whipping Bentleys before them
Pictures up in The Source
I'm a gorilla behind these bars
On some zoo shit
Shoot you while you're talking on
Some news camera crew shit
Sicker than flyin' in past tense
On some flu shit
Day-old asshole flow, I drop new shit
Exclusive, you don't want it in fact
I'll have the doctors operating on
The front of your back
Tryna keep your stomach intact
The spiritual you, leavin' your body
He don't wanna go back
That's when the tunnel go black
I send your soul to the atmosphere
Fuck outta here and your ringtone rap career
It's Crooked I: the face
Of Eastside Long Beach
Put your ear to the street so
You can hear my heartbeat

Nickel, yeah
I hope niggas know I'll show up to your show
I'll show up where you go
Show up to your do', foes will explode
Shells 'fore they hit the floor
I know niggas know
I got a open window flow, I air shit out
In the D they used to call me Mayor Royce
Now they call me Clay Davis
Guess why, "s heeeeeeeeeee-it"
'Cause when it come to them words
You know I wear shit out
I write rhymes like
White lines on a nose tray
Ice cold Ice Cube flow like O'Shea
Ridin' shotgun with Chris Martin - my DJ
Not the White boy
But I'm down for the Coldplay
Forever stay violent, better stay silent
Hammers stay humming like strumming
The mandolin violin
Speaking of, I done played a tune of violence
More than my nigga Charles
Hamilton played Sonic
I wrap niggas up, clap niggas up
Scrap niggas up
Either that or we gon' slap niggas up
Dump dirt on you right before I go
Into my Maino mode if I smell the
Scent of Yung Berg on ya
Til it ain't no mo', ain't no dough
Get into his ass cause I ain't opposed
I'm a livin' anal probe i'm a lame-ophobe
Matter fact my nigga JumpOff
Can I keep goin' (why the fuck not)
When I was a teen
I used to pack a three-eighty
Now I'm spittin sittin' between Shady and Jay
I pull the jeans down on
My bitch and then wave
Cause the pussy Max B wavy
When she ain't shave
I leave the booth smellin'
Like somebody ain't sprayed
I would talk about Kimbo but I ain't crazy
I'm like Marty McFly goin' back in time
And dissin' his momma nigga you can't fade me

They say he a bastard for real
Then they see the ass on his girl
So they wonderin' why's he so
Mad at the world
I take it out on tracks, I RIP it
So even to the producer it's hard to ID it
Bars tremendous, it's in your best interest
I insist your men just do
Your best Bush rendish
Endless, move more than two inches
My blood'll boil like I got a big skin cyst
So end this or see me mañana
Or see the speed of a llama
Underground prima donna
That ain't hard to find, pop a E in a Honda
With hands like E honda, he a monster
I love war, it's like my pet peeve kinda
But for us to even beef you should be honored
My dick gettin' hard, I see vagina - pause
Nah, rewind each line each time
Speak mine and meet nine, mano-a mano
When it rains it pours, grab a teflon poncho
You now fuckin' with Mouse, the head honcho
Nigga I could fit your house in my condo
I walk around like ratchets been legalized
Just me and the Desert Eagle
And an eagle eye
Closed casket, now you having a boxed wake
Zipper over your head
Dude's callin' you Crotchface
So y'all could bump "Swag Like Us"
But the next time rap's discussed
Add this as a plus
Don't nobody hit the pad like us
And would get up in that ass
But the fag's might bust
And since poppin' tags is a must (what?)
I hit the bank all I do is withdraw
Chicks removin' their drawers now
Your crew is in awe how you ball
Your jewels from a cubicle in the mall
You gon' need another processor to process it
I'll set it, I said it
So keep running around hot headed
'til you get hot leaded
'Til everything but your torso
On you is prosthetic
Digest it, niggas is pie-thetic
Rap what you can't afford
Y'all must got credit
All you gotta know is Crooked I, Royce
Bless and Joell with Joe spell, NO L