Slaughterhouse, BET - BET Back Room Freestyle lyrics

Yo wassup y'all this is Dj Premier, and I
Bring to you raw lyrics, raw skills
In the backroom slaughterhouse

Eight-twenty-eight, Welcome to: Our
House shady House gang we go check this
Look

If the motto of the lotto is
A dollar and a dream
I don't play it every day
It's just insomnia and cream
Fools lookin' for Joe they need
A tapper with a beam
Don't make a bad point like
Mike Conley's on your team
(Bdatt, Bdatt) Writing's on the wall
Know the languages learned from Denzel
Even a safe house is dangerous you watch me
I might appear like I do robberies
Brain introduced cocky, don't
Misconstrue the mirage, b
Flip side, strangers think I'm cool probably
See him throwin' pool parties
Bad broads and nude bodies but
My script was edited, I had a ton of change
Project X now
But it started as a Hunger Game
Your bars backed up, pink I'll keep strokin'
But you without a release
Tell me how we gon' come the same?
I'm watching paraplegic's sayin' they
Run the game i'll be in the cut
Let 'em claim what they wanna claim

Uhh, my clique shottas
You ain't fuckin' with this roster
My chick a knockout
Head to toe like a kick-boxer
Don't get boxed up
Your chick got her lips cocked up
I pulled my dick outta my
Boxers and Chris Bosh'd her
Uh, now that my AK's out in the open
I put his mind on vacay, I rerouted his focus
Yeah, now that the ace spade bottle is open
I'm tryna ménage with JK rowling and Oprah
I'm a soldier, uh, I'm not polite my G
I got lighters, I don't care about your life
I don't need to run the streets
I don't need yo plot
They don't call me Royce for nothin'
My baby I got the white
I'll put you on the asphalt
You try to rip my cash off
Rip ya face off and season it with bath salts
I know my way around here like
If I designed a compass
When my girl come around here I feel
Like I jumped inside of a trumpet
I got it locked like I laid
My vocal booths in the vault
Especially when it's dark I
Get desolate with thoughts
I'm gettin' green like Brian
Pumper under water
With his whole jewel collection on
Wrestlin' the Hulk
Talkin' bout they bust a heater
But when I see 'em
They be more like Justin Bieber
I be with flussers, skeezers, diva
(Joell, you're supposed to help me out man)

(8 28 as wellyaOWA)
Don't act up, we in the back room, back up
I want everything Green Bay
Everybody pack up your raps suck
I spit like I'm down to my last buck
Mad stuff ain't in the fridge
Not a packet of ketchup
You that tough? You don't talk
You spark it instead?
Wal-Mart next door, you put a Target to bed?
You a marksman with lead? Here's
A mark on my head
You a Mark, all you do is argue with Ted
You ain't hood, you drive past it and glance
I still hood trade my cash fo' they stamps
Those who ain't g-e-t GEDs in class fashion
I offer BET, EBT transactions
You feel I'm too cocky? Quit
I'll pay your little cable bill so
You can watch me spit
Problems, I'll make your eye
Grow like a wildflower
Cuz twitter's the only time you'll
See 'em pound Yaowa
I got bars for days, I'm lyin'
I got bars for weeks, i'm lyin'
I got bars for years, I'm lyin'
I got bars for aeons
Don't ever put me on the same
Level as these lil suckers rhymin'
And yes, I'm hood when the show's over
Fo sho you a 'fo I let the four fold ya
Boom, pow, bam like the old Joker
Put your face all over Brooklyn
Like a HOV poster
You played in grass dog, I played in gravel
On the same roof as the enemy
When he was flamin' at you
We threw Snapples at the Taber nacle
I mean the Tabernacle, whatever
The place that had the prayin' statues
You put me in that garden, I'da ate the apple
Put a worm on a hook as a
Bait to catch a flamin' snapper
Man I ain't tryna be a famous rapper
It's just you dudes slackin'
And I'm cool spazzin'

You dudes actin' like Hugh Jackman
You dudes lickin' the boot straps of these
New rappers that never knew snappin'
Move back with ya cute
Rappin' while you yappin'
I'm VIP with the loot stackin'
Ya boo crackin'
I'm probably too ghetto for rap dudes
I'm probably in BET's bathroom
Nursin' my stab wounds
I probably just murdered the back room
You rappers probably act goon
Probably pussy as cat womb
All of you villains in french braids
Pretendin' you concealing them switch blades
Quit man
Crooked put life insurance on the beat
Then I kill it to get paid
Yeah, I listen to you
Ignorant niggas spittin'
It's like I feel my IQ slippin' 'til
I'm still in the fifth grade
Do me a fave, swallow a grizznade
Yeah, homie follow the Slizz Nang
I salute ya if you
Follow the Slaughterous Gizzang
Why would I fear for?
When a cypher I'm the kind of guy that'll
Watch ya die behind a 99 cent store
I’m fine with my bench warrants
I ride with my wrench
Arrive in my in-store, I drive my six-four
Hop out, yell out, Welcome To Our House
Bitch, house slippers on
That chopper under my outfit
Until the day y'all allow
Mitt Romney to make freedom
Of speech illegal, i'mma spit wild shit
You rap crazy lame, I stack daily mane
It's that Shady gang, the fat lady sang
That means it's over for all of y'all
The way that we the new Juice Crew
Eminem should stand for Marley Marl
SLAUGHTERHOUSE