Slaughterhouse, Eminem, Skylar Grey - Our House lyrics

Eminem [Marshall Bruce Mathers III] Detroit, Michigan. U.S.

[Slaughterhouse, Eminem, Skylar Grey - Our House lyrics]

I wanna be the best who ever did it
Don't know if that goal is feasible
Or it isn't
But if it is then God, if you're listenin'
Please grant me the strength
To crush all competition
You can't blame me for dreaming
I'm a dreamer and if I'm coming off brash
Please forgive me but, that's all I want

I just wanna be the illest MC
(That's all I want)
The same time being as real as can be
Mayhem, sickness, murder, horror
These are the kind of words
That describe my aura
G Rap, Ras Kass, Kurupt
Redman I am cut from that cloth
Write a rhyme about me, you a dead man
Cool J, I'm Bad video
Learned the whole routine and performed
It for my father's friends
While they smoked and drank
Symphony, DOC inspired me to write what
Would eventually put me on airplanes like BoB
Canibus, Wu Tang, you know our history
But hats off when we rap this Jack Frost
We outline the track chalk
Thank God for the one-two cadence
Thank God for the lunchroom tables
I'm tryna be the sickest nigga, dead or alive
And if I happen to fall short
It's been one hell of a ride
Chronic 1 and 2
Looking up at the sky at the sun
Up until the day the sun is you
You listening to Hip-Hop, you in Jay' house
Wayne' house, Nas' house
Em' house, Our House

So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here

When I was a little boy I
Wanted to be a rapper
Wanted to be on the radio
And snapping pictures after
And so I grabbed my pen and
Pad and scribbled chitter chatter
It started off wack
But in the words of a ten year old
My shit was getting phatter
I hit the studio at 16, stupid ill
Not knowing how the booth would feel
What's ADAT's and two inch reel
How you ad-lib? What's a punch?
I ain't a boxer
But I sure enough learned the ropes
Look D and Mike you made a monster
Now everyday's a game of Contra, I got 99 men
An infinite amount of rounds inside
This mighty fine pen
This is my dream, don't fuck with it
I'm telling you
'Cause anyone can get dusted as
Long as production is available
I'm disgusted as a fan
Look how niggas sounding, damn
Weak head, ya'll suck bad
Fuck swag and your kicks from South Japan
I'm finna to be the best in this profession
I've been invested all my life
So wipe your feet before you step in
Our house

So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here

I wanna be the best who ever did it
Don't know if that goal is feasible
Or it isn't
But if it is then God, if you're listenin'
Please grant me the strength
To crush all competition
You can't blame me for dreaming
I'm a dreamer
And if I'm coming off brash please forgive me
But, that's all I want

I just wanna be the illest MC
(That's all I want)
The same time being as real as can be

Yo, in my house, the lights out
No utilities in the facilities
Feeling my life's 'bout, to wipe out
These feelings I'm feeling be killing me
I pull the mic out, can't strike out
'Cause if winning is really my enemy
I pull a nine out, blow my mind out
Is the end of me really serenity?
Man in my house, it's rap or die
Get a piece of that apple pie
Life is a Pharcyde song
And that bitch just passed us by
So I, got lyrically complex
That way I could clock checks
Get my moms out the
Projects, with these concepts
Competition can't digest
And then I stress 'cause the road is rough
I start feeling like shit's sour
The electricity in my will power could
Still power the twin towers
For ten hours, so send cowards
The message from Crooked I
Royce Da 5, Joe Budden, Em, Yaowa

In our, house we spit like Sig Sauers
The way I feel now I could spit for six hours
Straight, only way to be great
Is to dig down
If you can hear this sound in-
-side my head sounds like a fucking drive-by
That's what the inside of my mind's like
Looking back on my career
Even hindsights, tunnel vision, 5 mics
Never wanted that so bad
Felt like-Icould-go mad nomad with a notepad
Go Taz, spaz on these ho bags
That bothered me, but I never wanna show that
Just don't act like it ever does
Even though you know that
There will never come
A day someone blows past you, never was
Someone who's as dope as you ever was
And you hope that's
True 'cause the competitor in you
Couldn't let somebody be better than you
And you know that
So you don't ever hold back
What you gonna go back into
Working a regular job?
Fuck that, I'mma go hard, grab on my, gonads
Tell them fuck theyselves
They call me a wigger like Renee Zell'
But I raised hell like a stay-at-home dad
Rap is the only thing that I was ever really
Bad to the bone at
Guess I'm similar to, gangrene when I'm
Angry then I'm
Hulk Smash, so much passion but no compassion
If eyes are the windows to the soul
Then it's
Broken glass and there's no trespassing
Alright now here we go
Dre stamped me now I'm stamping Yelawolf
Get ready for the most competitive
Clique in the world it's like
Clash of the Titans
I released the cracker it's time
To set it again
And when it's said and it's all done
None shall ever fuck with this squadron
So come on in, at your own risk
This is (Our House) Bitch!

So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort
In here, in here, in here

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