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Slaughterhouse
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1
[Verse 1: Royce da 5'9"]
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(Today's agenda) riding with them sodomy sisters
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Pistol on hip, hip to your pistol
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The day I bow down to a b***h will be the day I throw a bottle at Rihanna inside of a strip club
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Leave the booth just to leave a tooth floating around inside of your pimp cup
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What goes around comes around in the form of karma
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Nah, that's probably just me riding around your town in a Fisker
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Penning a rhyme equivalent to a winning lottery ticket
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Uh, fresh of that weight scale, living a crooked heaven on Earth
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Giving them straight hell
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Kick in the door of them awards, wondering where are we sitting
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N****s with tight jeans looking like where are they fitting
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Beware of they writtens
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It's parallel to an Arab sitting in the terrorist cockpit heading for hell's kitchen
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I talk greasier than Harold's Chicken
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Don't cross me I leave scales tipping
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I'm coming (fresh off that weight scale, fresh off that weight scale
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Fresh off that, fresh off that, fresh off that weight scale)
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My b***h curvy as a Persian virgin's features
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She here to serve me, she here to disturb the reaper
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I keep bank, speak frankless, word to Ariza
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I'm fly as a bird and high as the Burj Khalifa
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I ride with kings, y'all ride with fiends
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You fraudulent ****s remind me of a ponzi scheme
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One of y'all ****s was probably cool in school
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The rest of y'all ****s was clowns, we should call you the Fonzi team
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I'm hate-prone
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N****s listen like ain't this about a b***h like it's a Drake song 'cause my cake long
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So stay strong 'cause your b***h giving me cheekbone
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Like Grace Jones using my d**k like a payphone
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But she ain't getting the call back
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She getting the ball sack, hitting the jaw just where we parked at
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Quick as a car jack, I ain't tryna be funny
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I'm tryna be missionary lying on top of my money
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I'm coming (fresh off that weight scale)
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[Verse 2: Crooked I]
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(Today's agenda) what the f**k would I stop for
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Knowing I need more guap stored in my sock drawer
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They want an encore when the flow is at mach four
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King of the jungle no lying, I let the Glock roar
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And this bulletproof vest is irrelevant
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I'm telling them look at your melon, I'm nailing a shell in it
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And the shell is moving right through your melon into your skeleton
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Then the felon is belling the same pitch the fella was yelling and
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Police sirens respond to heat firing, I'ma keep firing
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I'ma flee, I'ma be quiet, I'm a G, I'm a beat tyrant
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From Long Beach and I'm East Side
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I oughta, bury you artists like an artifact
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Serious as a heart attack, Dodger hat, slaughter tats
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Roger that, all the rap, that's me
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Can't believe Ice never thought of that, who the f**k brought it back
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(Fresh off that weight scale, fresh off that weight scale
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Fresh off that, fresh off that, fresh off that weight scale)
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Fresh off that weight scale
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I guess I'm Canibus and Kool Moe Dee, 'cause it's hard for me to take L's
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I'm tryna make more cake than a bake sale
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Tell the jakes I'ma make bail then escape 'cause I hate jail
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All these rappers saying they spitting hard raps
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Before I buy that s**t, show me the Barfax
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I got a tongue like a sharp ax
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I got a ton of rhymes flyer than anything launching off tarmacs
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This is how real it is
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When I ghostwrite for ****s, I'm speaking through them, I'm really just a ventriloquist
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A iller lyricst, a hint of ignorance
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A pinch of militant, a perfect description of what this ***a is
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Pull out a scale and weigh cds
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Then distribute it to the fans 'til they need me
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I'm a drug dealer so put out an apb
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The same s**t that gave these 80s babies add
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[Verse 3: Joell Oritz]
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(Today's agenda) pyrex sit in the kitchen feeling your eye sweat
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Gripping your wrist and watching that pie stretch
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Pitching to different ****s for figures, never slipping
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5-0 tripping, I dip on them through the projects
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Dope boy mindset, gotta get this money
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Apply the same grind to this rhyme s**t
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? Pick a pad, pick a pen, pick a track
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Pick a flow, I pick it apart like a locksmith digging in his nose
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Sit in the park with the Dre's on, ? Gone, heavy to eight long
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Put brains on pre-K, the shell is a crayon
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Man I'm just tryna write, please leave me alone
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'Cause I ain't tryna fight, I'm a different Iron Mike
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Bite your ear with a syllable, lay a hook that'll finish you
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Throwing jabs at you little dudes, my opponents get rid of you
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Hit my corner and listen to Eminem, Crook and Nickel
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While Joey f*****g the ring girl and this fight is unfixable, uh
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You rocking with a bqe boy
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[That bb, qzqs and bb Kings with D-boy?]
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Today's agenda, flame contenders
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And have they dame giving brain to they favorite member, yaowa
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(Fresh off that weight scale)
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[Verse 4: Joe Budden]
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(Today's agenda) diary of a mad man
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Machete Joe? Here I am
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Ain't gotta lie, what you see is what you get, ain't nothing modified
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Me, I give them the same song, go check with Spotify
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Don't get the context wrong, I'm the same G
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Spending old money, y'all swear it was the same G
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Yea these model hoes cute and entertain me
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And though I let them go to the head, they never change me
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Far from innocent
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Your favorite rapper got a head nod before he approached and check my temperament
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I wake sleepy hollow, should of done a ct scan
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Go to Colorado right now and watch Batman
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So my dad think I'm styling, how when
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I'm everything he'd be if these new drugs was out then
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I owe it to holmes, rolling stone
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But how I wouldn't let a stone roll, wonder why I'm stone cold
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Problem child to aggravated adult
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Got bad cards but I ain't blaming my hand, it's logic
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I hate jewelry and authority the same
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So how the f**k you think I feel about a chain of command, I'm saying
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I tell you how you different from I
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You always hugging the block, I kiss it goodbye
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Sober, my last drinking game started with truth or dare
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And ended with me thinking a name
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So y'all call it out of control, I'm confused when
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To think that you in something to me is the illusion
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There's your answer, [verbal smash cancer?]
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Now the strip club is a basement, I just came in with some dancers
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House gang, the clan made it
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Used to be scared of?, thought the klan made it
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Joey the fan favorite
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Love then hate it both 'cause I can't fake it
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And if I did I would never tell
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I said that all wrong, y'all would never tell
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I keep the mindfuck tucked for the jezzebelle
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Even if they help make it s**t would never fail
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Biatch!
GEOMETRY DASH SLAUGHTERHOUSE LYRICS
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