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Onslaught 2
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Slaughterhouse
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1
(Ohh!) Yeah (let's go!)
2
I said once upon a time in a city that's mine
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There was a nigga named Nickel that spit like Big in his prime
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He got a fifty two box, original tick in the mind
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Listenin to 'Pac and them drop with a prestigious design
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My niggaz is dimes, my bitches is dimes
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I came up behind Eminem in '99 and I took the baton
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I been runnin' shit ever since then, slaughtered MC's
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Sit and watchin 'my green grow, like I'm waterin' seeds
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The problem with me is I'm the heart of the streets
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Niggaz callin' for peace, they can't even call the police
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If I ain't better than you I'm harder to beat
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Probably cause I live by the art of for-keeps
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I get indicted after my product's released
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We a different form, a different centrifugal force
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Every line is like grippin' on a stick shift in a Porsche
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My niggaz asked for direction to go on this track
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I said fuck a direction, spaz out! Get 'em up high!
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And for them wack songs that you made
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I want you to throw your pin, but hold the grenade
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Explode to your grave, and go straight to hell
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When your soul is enflamed for the road that you paved
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The role that played, in fuckin' up hip-hop
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You owe so you paid, the fo'-fo' close to your brain
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Closer than the close shave of a low fuckin' fade
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Don't fuck with me, don't fuck with J-O-E
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With Nickel we gon' make more cheese
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Heavy hitter, call me Joell David Ortiz (what up!)
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I point a burner at the plaque on your teeth
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On some leftover shit, it's a wrap on the beef
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I'm one in a mil', comin' to kill
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It's like you wanting a pill, my gun put your back on the streets
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Spine on the concrete lookin' at the sun
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Eyelids heavy, "Why did Crooked have to come?
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He was full of 'gnac and rum, like a bully actin' dumb"
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Fully-automatic umm, that's Crooked havin fun
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Listen, don't make a nigga find your dame
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And make the dime give me brains 'til my mind is drained
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Listen, don't make me grab a nine and aim
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And how your dime did me, do yo' mind the same
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But different, the West Coast king Crooked I
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I'm a kamikaze pilot, I stay fly 'til I die, get 'em up high!
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Here we go again, you know I'm him, Mr. Ortiz
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Soon as I hold a pen I co-defend the sickest MC's (Slaughterhouse)
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Pick a disease we got it, I vomit sniffle and sneeze
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Lyrics squeeze, listen please, Lord help get rid of this fever
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I'm like a hundred and fifity degrees
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sixteen's used to be sweet, now they're a bit of a tease
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A nigga need a infinite instrumental just to be pleased
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Used to dream about livin' now I'm livin' my dreams
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The bitches fiend, made my dick a machine
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Maybe I'm wrong, maybe I am just as fuckin' big as I seem
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When I'm spittin' this mean, me and government intervene
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A couple presidents, literally live in my jeans
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I give 'em residence, they just let me pick anything
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When I'm in the mall, they show me the latest kicks on the scene
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And I get 'em all, I ball like the nigga I am
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Niggaz hate, bitches (Cheer) like Norm, Cliff and Diane
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I'm in a state, of mind that should be the fifty verse
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I run radio, but I don't use them itty bitty words
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I ain't shabby with the nouns, I ain't shitty with the verb
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When I reach heaven I want the nigga Biggie to be like "Word"
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City slicker, New York delivery when I swerve
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Hold that mic like the Statue of Liberty, I deserve
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A shot at the title, 'Spitter of the Year'
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E'ry year, let's be clear, put some fingers in the air
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And hold 'em up high! [echoes]
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Work on your half-court shot, I'm money from far
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Get 'em mad, see a ape on your monkey bars
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And that's rate, gettin' hate from the wannabe stars
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And that's great, mean he feel it and know he numb
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See that bullet comin' from around the corner
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Like a shot from Angelina Jolie's gun; think Joey the one
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I'm a fake? Ain't your run-of-the-mill
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I'm from where they kill you for one of your bills
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For me it's fun, your man think we evenly skilled
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He Mel Gibson, all that shit he believe, gon' get his son killed
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Play with a match, fuck what you take it as
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No good straight jacket, all I did break the match
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They say he talk tough with his fake ass
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Four pounds put me in another weight class
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(Great Escape) the (Pad)
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Took the jumpsuit off my naked ass and ate the mask
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You diss me, you wanna be a great that fast?
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Take a fully-automatic and spray at gas
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Me? Body a whole shit with a verse probably atrocious
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In your whole camp, nobody focused
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They say you the 'Ultimate Warrior', I agree
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You die and come BACK, won't nobody know it
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Drive by, screamin' it's a new crew reppin'
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Hangin out the window, like it's "227"
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Get 'em up high!
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Get 'em up high, get 'em up high
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Get 'em up high, get 'em up high
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Get 'em up high, in the sky
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Put 'em up high, put 'em up high
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Put 'em up high, fingers in the sky
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Put 'em up! Slaughterhouse, Slaughterhouse
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Ohh, ohh, Fatman Scoop, Slaughterhouse
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Fatman Scoop, Slaughterhouse
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Put 'em high, woo! Ohh [echoes]
Slaughterhouse - Onslaught
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