Boom Bashin Lyrics - Slaughtahouse - Masta Ace Incorporated

Here comes the boom, with the hip hop bash as I smash and crash 

How many gangsta rappers are gonna last? 

Not one, they got done, I had fun 

Doin em and screwin em and booin em and chewin em 

I'm slick and I'm quick, up my sleeve is a trick 

Hey! so what, I use funky drummers, suck my dick. 

I'm still thick, with murderous beats and heavy kick 

And I'm sick of the so-called shots ya gonna lick 

I slam and I slam and I slam, did I mention that I slam 

Don't eat spinach but I yam what I yam 

Death-defyin like a circus, I work this 

Mic, you can't jerk this, off-beat on purpose 

I never smoke dope, I don't carry a nine 

I ain't no hustler with bitches on my mind 

Gangstas are swimming in the water, 

I oughta, boom bash and slaughta 

I'ma break it down, and I do mean down, yo way down, 

So far downtown the devil's gonna call it underground 

And niggaz betta know the fuckin score 

'cause I'm raw, like eddy, 

And like confetti they get tore 

Up, from the floor, up, 

There's no time 

And my spits gettin sprayed in ya face as I rhyme 

So run run run, ya better head for the hills 

Get ya gun gun gun, and ya cyanide pills 

And a rope for ya neck, and a razor for your wrists 

'cause I'm pissed, and it's suicide to battle this 

Ummm, highly explosive, material 

Grand imperial, pour me on cereal 

'cause I flow from the belly of a cow 

Wipe ya brow, how ya like me now 

You can get with this, or you can get with that 

But you can't get with the man with the mad snap hat 

I take em out with one blow to the cerebellum 

And tell 'em, my jams are so funky you can smell 'em 

Rhyme for rhyme, head for head with a one go 

I come from brooklyn, it's wild like a jungle 

Yeah, you might get a cap jack, ya act wack, 

I carry a can of flat black in my napsack 

Lookin for a wall to tag up, and brag up 

And rag up, yo nigga yo digga raise the flag up 

I click click my heels, and good is how it feels 

There's no place like home and chrome on ya wheels 

Chasin through the projects, I lose you 

Hope I didn't bruise you, I cruise through 

Your neighborhood, in a chevrolet impala 

Dropped to the ground and, makin the girls holla 

Rollin, rollin, rollin, I'm rollin 

Sorry officer, the car ain't stolen 

I really don't care what you thought of me 

I oughta be, far from orderly 

In my fashion, I boom and I bash and