Song parody of

The Warriors

by Royce da 5'9"

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  • English (English)
  • Français (French)
  • Español (Spanish)

Check the scene boppers Slaughterhouse, still standing There was a murder last night And the shit didn't really sit right with me So I had to tell a story, oh, baby! Blood on the walls, street life America's worst nightmare, ahead by light years Hip hop's only shining star in the night's air Right here, don't fight fair, what I write, yeah Might there, throw 'em off like they Bobby Knight's chair I been where you tryna be, I'm already hot All about cake, Betty Crock' and spit ready rock They know my bar came venom in a bezzie rock Kicks from Fight Club, outfit from Eddie Brock I'm going for the kill, focused on a steady plot John Wilkes the Booth like when he dead aimed his nezzie shot You listening to hip hop's finest You rewind this, Slaughterhouse behind this I like rap, this shit is cool, I'm better than mad niggas But I'm just as good a crack pitcher as a pad ripper I say that to say this, don't let mad liquor Turn me to a bodybag zipper and not a ad-libber Couple joints ago I was right on that ave with ya Mad bigger than the catch David Tyree had last winter I'm not a made-up character, that's a Puerto Rican Brooklynite With two kids y'all see in them mag pictures And however I gotta feed 'em I will All they ever gon' need in life is just, me and my will Interfere with that it's gon' be more than a beat that I kill Disrespect with an indirect and you will see if I'm real Fuck you blood-sucking parasites I'm bringing the terror right in front of your parents' sight You parents' eyes and yeah, I wear a pair of pipes I wear 'em like cellulite on a pair of thighs I'm Eric Wright, I'm Ruthless, I terrorize You'll either perish or be paralyzed, I'm a thousand degrees Fahrenheit I'm even keeping them heaters when we perform On stage rocking like we from Korn, the people roar What they don't know it's a secret war Inside of a rider I'm seeking revenge on the world for bein born! And the desert eagle is mi amor, she'll fuck you to death Blow your brains, either or cause she a whore Allow me to reassure your stripe's worthless Like a pair of Diadora's when it leaves the Adidas store Don't be comparing us to rappers Compare us to the Arabs, this a terrorist attack, uh, boom! Lord have mercy, we here to destroy everything You niggas is butter in front a fucking machete swing Mothafucka I'm fly, I ain't no scary goon Try me and I guarantee you I'mma see you very soon Leave a nigga ass out like Prince, take his bitch Put my Graffiti Bridge right Under Her Cherry Moon We notorious, pushing them Porsches Y'all niggas the orphans us? We the warriors Oh, wait a minute boppers Royce, slow down baby This rap shit is a workout on my legs A nigga going hard on his bike but too many dudes is jumping on the pegs They know when that raw shit get recorded Either let your speakers enforce it or lay down in a moshpit Of course it's the bosses, acting like officers Running in these corporate offices Hungry looking for a four-course dish no matter what the cost is Like the world's lawless so we don't know what remorse is Cause the V need like a thousand horses Slaughterhouse hoodie on, that's my new couture shit It's Jumpoff! He be the best Computers rank me number one, blame the BCS, it's they fault Ask about your boy, I'm nice with my hands Maybe that's why, every last thing I write is a jam Minus the fans, the flights to Japan, I am the man Anyone who feel they could see me is in dire need of a eye exam My mind expands wider than the fanbase of a fire band And what I release from my diaphragm, sticks to you Like the wrists of Spiderman, fool a average listeners What you liars can do but you will die a scam When I die they will retire my entire hand For years of scripted whoop-ass, making intruders try a can I guess the moral of the story is Joell's victorious And everything's all gravy like Notorious I left a nigga dead cause he said he was ready for I Let the Beretta give him wings since he said he was fly I'm in my Chevy riding to "Bar Exam" and "Mood Muzik" They the closest to "Reasonable Doubt" and "Ready to Die" Crooked I, watch for snitches and wire devices My 45th, fire in crisis, lift you higher than prices All my ice, and on the mic, I am the nicest Me and my bitch ride for life like Osirus and Isis Yeah, word to Run-D.M.C. I'm Tougher Than Leather-face Never threw a gun in the trash but they call me Weapon Waist It's like you moving from the projects to the Hamptons The way my hammers be sending bastards to a better place Let me set it straight, they fans been led astray Niggas keep gassing with guns with unleaded spray They don't know they one flow, one medic away From being taken away from here in the leaded state I handle all of my serious issues with metal I stick you so deep in the earth your zipper can tickle the devil I'm skipping the pick and the shovel, I'm picking you up And I'm shoving your head in the mud 'til your kickings is level Pardon I live for the moment, you rhymin I give the atonement Like the Indians, I scalp and I wig the opponent But I'm a chief, matter fact I'm a beast I'm a mothafuckin' Slaughterhouse G, boom!

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The Warriors

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