Slaughterhouse - Wack MCs lyrics

Rap is like a set-up, a lot of games
A lot of suckas with colorful names
I'm so-and-so, I'm this, I'm that
Huh, but they all just wick-wick-wack

Ladies and gentlemen
With no further adieux (wick-wick)
It's your man
(Joey, wick-wi-wi-wi-wick-wick-wack)
Look (wick-wick-wick-wack)

I'm the perfect one to show ya
All that slick talkin' could be over
All it's gon' take's a U
Turn from the chauffeur
You test me, you just see
We mix hands with guns, that's the hood's UFC
And me? I never had gear
(nah) but since last year
I swore not to cop nothin'
If it wasn't cashmere
You just salty, I'm fond of the sodium
Anticipate the shots like Obama at the podium
Me and y'all are nowhere
Near the same pedigree (nah)
Not in layman's terms, hypothetically
Metaphorically, lyrically, not especially
Theoretically, I mean we
Just different genetically
They ain't name me the champion yet
So it's, ACG's Champion sweats
Homie this is just a thought (for)
The Donnie Walsh DJ's that don't wanna play
The best nigga in New York, dawg

Wick-wick-wack
Wick, wick-wi-wick-wi-wick-wick-wack
Wick-wick-wick-wack (My nigga Spyda is back)
Wick-wick-wack (5'9", that's me)
Wick, wick-wi-wick-wi-wick-wick-wack
(I'm back baby)
Wick-wick-wick-wack (Slaughterhouse what?)

My nigga Jumpoff said it best -
Y'all niggas married to the streets
I'm married to a bottle of
Patron wearin' a weddin' dress
Y'all niggas is dead unless
You see we have not been playin'
The Slaughterhouse ain't no goddamn game
Show up to the bar where you hang
Shoot at your bottle like, "Hohh
We pop champagne!"
No disrespect to ol' D's boy Jimmy
I ain't Prince Akeem but I will greet
You with the sweepers or the Semi's
These other lame rappers is broke
They so po' they gotta name Loso
To have a Fabolous quote
And to the fo'-fo' grabbin' they
Throat tellin' 'em choke
Your niggas arms all froze like
They havin' a stroke
Admit it y'all niggas bonkers
Kick and stomp ya
Put a nigga' sleepin' in a shlomper
I am not the one bruh
This my response to that nigga'
Hidin' out in Yonkers

Wick-wick-wack
Wick, wick-wi-wick-wi-wick-wick-wack
Wick-wick-wick-wack wick-wick-wack
Wick, wick-wi-wick-wi-wick-wick-wack
Wick-wick-wick-wack

Uhh, Joell Ortiz
(Joell Ortiz) yup, it's really me
I used to drink the beer
Promoted by Billy Dee
By the bodega in chancletas and a white tee
Steady cocoa piña callin' papi for a iced tea
Married to the block
That's why I never kept a wifey
Million fish in the sea
I juggled a couple Pisces
Had a fetish for guns
I always kept a few near
Never shot someone but I fired
'em all on New Year's
Never lost a fight, I'm like 25 and O, what!
Except that time in high school but
He jetted when I woke up
Every time time I spit it's like
Somebody filled the whole cup
With liquor and just downed it
They hear it wanna throw up
Many nights the fridge held me
Down with old cold cuts
No mayo? No mustard? No bread? Ah, so what
On the floor in the corner was my mattress, B
I hated that so I don't
Rap like you wack MC's wick-wick-wack
Wick, wick-wi-wick-wi-wick-wick-wack
Wick-wick-wick-wack (Geah) wick-wick-wack
Wick, wick-wi-wick-wi-wick-wick-wack
(S dot H dot) wick-wick-wick-wack (Haha)

I laugh after I kill you
I'm a poor sportsman
Slaughterhouse the successors to
The Four Horsemen
Niggas born to pimp so bring
Some more whores in
Thinkin' with my other hand
Before more foreskin
Me and Red Spyda, roll in a red Spider
Executive Westsider, homie's a tech writer
Homie I check riders, you better stand down
Hands down
You'll be man down on the damn ground
Long Beach, the home of them strap clappers
From ringtoners to backpackers
I smack rappers speak on us and we gon'
Be bendin' them street corners
To clap actors, after that brrrap
Collapse backwards
Shit, that's when the force roll through
I Malcolm X you pigs, what the pork gon' do?
I Malcolm X the track
That mean arm leg leg-arm head
Body the beat, the torso too, heh
And leave the chorus for you, nigga!

Wick-wick-wack
Wick, wick-wi-wick-wi-wick-wick-wack
Wick-wick-wick-wack wick-wick-wack
Wick, wick-wi-wick-wi-wick-wick-wack
Wick-wick-wick-wack