Fight Club Remix Lyrics - Slaughter House Ep - Slaughterhouse

Joey, no rules, gun shots no prob 

No jewels, niggas say I got robbed 

I'm still wearin' my bling 

And fuck first class, I fly standin' on Virgin America's wing 

Nuts hang, knockin' down sky scrapers 

Take a piss, make it rain, I'm the American dream 

Make it rain I ain't Pacman Jones 

Nigga, balls and my word, all a black man owns 

If you in that man zone, how you figure to gain 

Can't bowl a 300 in another niggas lane 

Better aim, you dealin' with a 7 - 10 split 

That's Long Beach cause we on some 710 shit 

I been nice since 227 man shit 

I am sick, and I'm never gettin' better that's it 

Give me somethin' sharp to sever that prick 

Like a group broke up I will dismember that click 

I'm a veteran remember that shit 

We some internet rappers 

Then why you on our internet dicks 

We'll be there when it's war callin' 

Either we high or we fly or the floor fallin' 

I'm a Tommy Gun, it ain't no best 

The rap game like the St. Louis vs New York battle, nobody won 

A bunch of fuckin' 2's, and 3's like zone defense 

Please get at dude's Ortiz 

Nah you beast 'em 

Hold, stop, can't stop, thank pops 

Hard headed, gotta hit a wall first like a bank shot 

Get it clear, a coke head's a thin line between friend or foe 

Won't let this shit disappear 

This fiscal year, I'm a stay hot buzzin' 

With dude's that help me shoot like A-rod cousin 

Walk in my shoes and ya feet get callus 

From Jersey City to Caesar's Palace 

I speak with malice just to make sure the streets get salvaged 

Real talk where would all of us be without it 

Slaughterhouse no fear, too many dudes Tyson Chandler 

Tried to leave their team and went nowhere 

Like Tyson Chandler in the past niggas on some bullshit 

Royce tell Preme I got a full clip 

Niggas used to run when they saw Suge's face 

Faster then Joey and Joell in a foot race 

Now you ask me where the incident took place 

Don't check the internet check hood space 

You dealin' with some intelligent creatures 

I don't touch guns I draw with telekinesis 

No finger prints on Crooked's mag 

I'm mixed with good and bad like the Goodfellas and Jesus 

First Biggie and Jay made it 

I'll leave a bandana at your murder and make it gang related 

The bitch at the Shoney's told me homie 

Ortiz I'm the one and only 

Pick a spot, I pick apart you dudes who pick a part 

This ain't a movie, I feel bad like lookin' at a pick of Pac 

Niggas hearts gettin' sparked, every time I give an arc 

To my wrist and it twists like a spliff when I'm sittin' in the park 

Tall corny niggas ain't makin' a bigger mark 

I boo drugs what I does got em runnin' to get a narc 

You guppies unlucky you in a tank with a shark 

Teeth crooked like my dog who just finished a vicious bark 

Flick a dart through your top hat 

Weak emcee's you cannot rap 

Freak, where the drop at 

Now ya mad at Tahiri cause ya ass ain't famous 

Get it nigga, ya ass ain't famous 

Quit talkin' about me cause ya ass ain't dangerous 

They call me Hustler cause my mag game heinous 

Show up to Detroit thinkin' everybody loves you 

And I'm a come and show you that your ass ain't Raymond 

Dumbin' every line, me fuckin' bitches is like the cops 

After a murder they comin' everytime 

Shell toes, and Wassan jacket, the contractor 

Still pushin' elbows like a linebacker 

And ya'll playin', my world wide bitches 

On my world wide watch I call it the broad band 

Slaughterhouse 

Y'all know what it is