Life handed me lemons I jump back in the public eye and squirted lemon juice in it By now you just wish I'd fucking die but I electrify Get electrocuted, executed by an executioner of my flow Too quick for the human eye to detect zooming by Guess who, what's happening guys? They told me to shit, I fell off that pot Hopped right back up on that crapper and I Said "fuck it" with a capital I Look who's back to antagonize You don't like it? You can eat shit, fuck off little fagot and die You right back like a maggot on my dick grabbing at my shit, Better get to the back of the line You wanna get your shot at me what kinda crap is that Battle, what kind of rapper Would I be before I let another rapper think he's hot I'll bury my face in his stinky twat and go ala la la la Girl my head space is limited, ain't even room in the back of my mind That's why I ain't thinking about you, I don't got time and I told you a thousand times So how can I find the time to put an alkaline battery In Royce's back and at the same time put Juice in mine? Goddamnit Slaughterhouse is signed Slaughterhouse! I'm a menace villain, my pen is sitting spilling, my lyrics killing Then I let you witness shit when it hit the ceiling The niggas willing to give the listeners the sickest feeling Like mixing some Benadryl and penicillin Then I'm filling the clip with a written Can you picture my pistol drilling? A million women and children when I'm illing But it isn't real, it's a rap On the real, it's a wrap How could you possibly stop the Apocalypse When I'm atomic bombing the populous Shock the metropolis hostile as a kid Popping the Glock at his moms and his pops Then he hops in his drop with his iPod rocking the Slaughterish Documentation and lyrics I write with confidence Write like a columnist slash novelist I'm in this game to demolish, establish my dominance Over prominent rappers you popping shit till you opposite I can spit ominous so spit politics now I'm Haile Selassie, Gandhi, and Pac of this hip hop genre, Bitch! Slaughterhouse! Lyrically I'm a cocaine Altoid Ability told brain it's a no brain bout boy Physically I'm literally a cocaine cowboy Wait wait, did I just go almost four bars Without talking about my big dick? The other day me and your thick bitch had a great day and we ate cake And then we walked and then she tried to jack me off but she lost Cause she couldn't handle my shit, wait I sweared Irony of Ryan is I am bipolar While I'm rhyming standing beside a big old white bear Neither one of us fight fair, You are literally looking at Woody and Wesley in a movie With a white boy ain't got to jump no where 'cause I'm here Nigga I'm on fire yeah and I'm every bitch's dream One, two I'm coming for you, I'm a big old (big old) nightmare! Nigga this the slaughter stepping up I'll pretty much slap your ass and tell you to shut the fuck up After that I'll slap your ass again And tell you to shut the fuck up shutting up And that's how you body a fucking beat Slaughterhouse! I should be the one that goes slow Get a stopwatch, clock my flow Hit the button on top watch the drug drop O O dot dot O, Yaowa When I drop I go outer space Blackout like Darth Vader's face Placed in a molten shower Say something and get them proper Mama poppa pouring out vodka Mama Mia, 'em' pass me the seeds It's a disease that's in the Slaughterhouse casa Better jet boy go home, better yet boy G four chrome, Better jet boy, Mark Sanchez, Santanio Holmes I'm not just any old homeboy Sitting in a lab picking up a pad I be spitting bad, I'ma get you mad with this gift I have Lord duck suffering succotash when the trigger blast I'ma put your beak on your fitted hat Where the liquor at? Sip of yak That bitch and a vicious track I'ma get into that Sly Pro tools to boast Joe smooth I coast to the West Like we're tired of living at New York here's a piggyback ride to the motherland Hold on brother man, on the other hand get down I'm gutter fam, gun butt you with the Eagle handle Cunningham I don't wanna talk, I just wanna beef I don't want a piece, I want it all baby boy I don't wanna eat, I wanna feast up you rough piece of shit You done weak, I'm the one, capiche? Slaughterhouse! Insane what they call us How you married to the game But you probably shouldn't have came to the altar Every bar like propane for the sawed-off, used ya hand to forge you Eminem, Mr. Porter, slaughter my cinnamon's imminent torture All of you feminine marauders, that's women at war Men will assault you, time is a bastard symbol of sorter? Kidnap your trembling daughter, at least a quarter I'm administering supporters, got an aura more like Sodom and Gomorrah Normally something's wrong with me Claiming a quantity of the porn I see on the pause to me When I fix the game they'll think shit came with a warranty How the fuck are they gonna stop when I was born to be Corner me, shit belong to me, two choices, you can get along with me Or sit your fagot ass right there in dormancy Wait, all you missing is heels to be Ru Paul Ain't nobody that's real ever knew y'all Second to none and I'm dealing with Marshall This time I never come down, deal with the blue balls You ain't gotta fear me but you'll respect me Niggas who never met me threaten me, want to Gillete me Coming off soft, I got some machetes Swinging spaghetti like it's heavy some said he deserve an ESPY In a Chevy like Andretti, put the Dezzy where his chest be Slaughterhouse!
Written by: JOSEPH BUDDEN, HORACE JACKSON, MARSHALL MATHERS, MARSHALL B III MATHERS, ALEXANDER MERZIN, RYAN MONTGOMERY, JOELL ORTIZ, DENAUN M PORTER, LUIS RESTO, DOMINICK WICKLIFFE
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group, THE ADMINISTRATION MP, INC., ME GUSTA MUSIC
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