Saturday Nite Live Lyrics - Slaughtahouse - Masta Ace Incorporated

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite, yeah 

Ayo kid, for years I've been into rap 

Writing funky rhymes to get my name on the map 

And by now I know I'm hitting 

'Cause I say a rhyme and girls be like, no he didn't 

I'm so nonchalant, word to my uncle and my aunt 

I serve MC's like a restaurant 

It ain't where you're from it's where you're at 

So in that case your butt better step like a frat 

'Cause juice I got a lot of vapors 

While you gotta quit, I'm always rolling with Umdada, shit 

When I deliver I make you shiver 

If a guy try to front, I have to show him I'm the problem giver 

Girlfriend you're gonna be in bad shape 

If you expect Uneek to take you shopping like a demo tape 

I'll tell your brother Jack to be nimble 

'Cause if you want beef we can clash like a cymbal 

You need to stop all the yelling and the cursing 

I know it foul, he couldn't house a homeless person 

We don't cuddle in the Eyceurokk huddle 

While verse is subtle, and then we wet you like a puddle 

One lyric from the gut, so what? 

You want to strut like you're bad and then you might get had 

Yeah, it's cool, it's gonna be all right 

'Cause live from New York it's Saturday Nite, forever 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

It's the offbeat, on beat, man with the mostest 

Like Hostess, I bake MC's and oh and you knows this 

So 1 2 3 4, for whom the bell is tolling 

I'm rolling with Umdada and I'm um holding my swollen 

And doing the project dance from back in the days 

It's the Master, the Ace and yo, I'm black and it pays 

So bust the move on the mad offbeat tip and 

It's the dopest, but can you cope this, by far the hippest 

Hat on sideways or backward, I knew a funky track 

Would open up the ears of the black hood 

I'm not rough mouth, Richie or the Fonz 

I'm no joke, I school that ass like St. John's 

Some come get a little bit, hit hard like a rock 

And open up the door 'cause I'm knocking 

Ready or not, here I come in a hurry and 

It's Masta Ace, Steady Pace, Paula Perry and 

Eyceurokk with the 4 Building storm and 

Welcome to the Bates Motel, my name is Norman 

I got the mad knife, I'm mad mean 

I killed mad crews, I read Mad magazine 

So break it down for the heads with the dreads 

For the baldies and the fades, for the blues and the reds 

Here comes the crazy drunken style, take a swigga 

As I take my finger of the trigga for the Lord Digga 

Lord Digga, the microphone mutilator 

With the hardcore data to mash motherfuckers like potatoes 

I get a load of a punk who tried to diss me 

You wanna know why? 'Cause I spit on spectators 

My style is rough, ruck and rugged on the ill tip 

Blowing the fuck up, sending pussies looking for microchips 

Mad mad styles get flipped when the cordless gets gripped 

Not a gang member but I got Tales from the Crip 

I'm mad mad funky like Silk, take a sniff of my ass crack 

Motherfuckers stay wack as my pockets get fat like an elephant 

I'm far from benevolent, I'm up your ass for the hell of it 

I'm catching wreck on your record or cassette tape 

Now I can't wait to catch motherfuckers that slept late 

I flip the hardcore shit so little punks you know 

That's how it goes on Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite, yeah 

Eyceurokk consists of three, first is Rokk Deisel 

My brother Uneek and then there's me, nigga 

I wear the orange and the black cap 

Black and orange jersey on my back 

Baddest nigga in the pack and I work to get my loot, shoot 

I'm turning heads like a handicapped prostitute 

Son, you gotta believe me that I'm a be rockin' you, rockin' you 

But I'm not Davert Leavy, I'm hitting rappers 'til they stagger 

And if he's a bragger, I'm gonna watch him fall like Niagra 

Oops, oh, time for him to go 

Take him to the morgue, put a tag on his toe 

Not the type you can play a game with 

Fuck around, look at all the niggas that I came with 

Stop dissing, there will be no tomorrow, you'll feel sorrow 

I'm knocking niggas down like Mark Navarro 

'Cause rap is not a toy, if you're in it for the bones 

You'll be Home Alone just like that little white boy 

Master Eyce is on the way and live from New York 

I'm catching wreck on a Saturday 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

It's Saturday Nite, it's Saturday Nite 

It's Saturday Nite, it's Saturday Nite 

It's Saturday Nite, it's Saturday Nite 

It's Saturday Nite, it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

Live from New York it's Saturday Nite 

It's Saturday Nite