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Onslaught
[Royce Da 5'9"] (Yeah!) This is Slaughterhouse Haha, we gon' get right into it Scared yet niggaz? You're dealin with a
fo'-headed monster Y'all are John McCain, you can't lift your arms up These po-ranhas, live by a
certain code of conduct Fuck fly hoes and blow ganja He a
prophet, predict shit The
year 2029 is gon' be the
apocalypse caused by the
Apophis ME I
got it lock and key Tell the
labels we 'bout to go on a
shoppin spree And if y'all don't wanna sign us, you corny Tell your hoes swallow two of these nuts and call us in the
mornin We the
answer, to the
dance floor please You gotta fuck us all bitch, you can't Ortiz Budden, Crooked, Nickel, damn Royce please We up in this bitch like trans or T
We the
Voltron crew, it's whatever your folks wan' do We turn this bitch into SOCOM 2
I'm the
best rapper alive, Lil Wayne's migraine Jay-Z's headache, touchin what the
lead ain't Motherfuck your feelings, you don't know with what you're dealin Tryin to "ketchup", you mustard spillin I'm amongst hustlers killin Money stacks touch the
ceilin, what a
fuckin feelin You will never feel, you will never sell You can't see me, feel me, they should use my knuckles instead of Braille I
walk with the
toast feelin like How the
fuck is talk is cheap? Talk is what's gon' cost you the
most I'm the
one really yo I'm the
gun (Spark) like Omilio, you a
J-Hood done video That ain't a
diss so please don't diss me The
mag' barrel longer than the
cheese on 50 I
tell a
bitch click your heels twice and ease on with me This is the
life... we gone! [Joe Budden] I
ain't with the
leanin and rockin That ain't even seen as a
option, nigga as a
teen I
was mobbin Stick him up, if it's in his jeans then I'm robbin Might, walk around like the
thing get to cockin (what?) But I
ain't even tryna be seen when it's poppin You ain't seen hoppin 'til you seen with a
rocket Pull up, lookin real clean in the
drop and (nigga) I
ain't hit the
bing or cot since Dawg, tell your whole team ya cannot win 'Til they make some type of vaccine, I'm a
problem I
don't sleep on a
soul, got that wrong (nigga) Even Ben Vereen can get tapped on Clapped on, mashed on, like M.O. My M.O. is Rambo, ammo Got money now so there's marble on the
handle On wax so let's beef with no candles Dismantled, click, bam! Got some shit your man won't with-stand (nigga!) I
make the
hood like V.I.P. Now you can't even get in without a
wrist-band I'm just, bland Learn when you walk with your head too high is when shit hits the
fan Damn, Grant Hamblin, grand tamperin In two bars I'll send your mans scramblin Now how it feel to throw punches and can't land 'em Or be powerless while you can't stand 'em And treat Comp like Richard Simmons Behind closed doors the
boy gon' manhandle him Get out-paced 'til you out the
race If you worried about your face, about face (nigga!) Cause, if you ain't all about your pape's then nigga you a
transgender, all outta place! [Crooked I] When I
face off, picture a
thug missin his mug Any particular stick in the
mud could get hit with a
Scud missile 'til he's, drippin ridiculous blood If you, rather stick to the
fists and the
gloves then you, gettin hit on, more than the
prettiest bitch in the
club Nigga I'm itchin to bug! Itchin like a
syphilis dick, itchin like the
skin of a
bitch addicted to drugs, just to hit you with slugs I
did it because I
wanted to! Shoot you in BACK of your head right in front of you That's what the
gun'll do All I
do is son ol' niggaz on the W
All I
do is make all newcomers come anew I
ain't lyin, sir You ain't gotta watch Tim Duncan jump to see a
flyin (Spur) Bentley boy, no it's not "H to the
Izzo" But I
push (Buddens) like Jay shoulda did Joe People's choice, the
voice of my time with Royce Da 5'9", we boys and night shine I
let Joell poison my mind Grab a
silencer and kill y'all noise with my 9
As Spalding balls'll get tossed in the
hoop Pierce from Boston explains how often I
shoot I'm a
Molotov crossed with a
nuke See I
swallow liquor bottles 'til they hollow then I
crawl in the
booth I'm the
truth, polygraph Crooked You prolly have a
cardiac heart attack when I
autograph bullets Mo' caskets put so much bread on your head when my gunners are done, man they owe taxes Bowl-legged, knock-kneed, one irregular shoe And you supposed to be steppin to who? Tell 'em ALL Crooked came for war The
best EVER on the
West unless your last name's Shakur! [Joell Ortiz] Just be easy buddy, relax Please don't have me bloody my axe Or revvin my chainsaw to sever your brain off With no "concentration" I'm better than Adolf Never been laid off, forever put in work As beats and skeets I
fucked every bitch that said I
was a
jerk Heh, it's like you cuter when you word maneuver Got every dot-com in my palm and I
don't know how to work computers Yeah it's true, Slaughterhouse, I
know you heard the
rumors That's new but '02 e'ry verse was ruder than you worthless losers So we formed a
four alien alliance, just dyin to earth intruders E'rybody's a
president, bunch of Herbert Hoovers If what I
said had legs it could burn a
cougar Speakin of burn, I'm hip-hop sixty shots of Henny on the
rocks You're eggnog with a
squirt of Kahlúa Can't lie, it's mad fun bein zoned My flow is straight, yours slant like Gumby's dome Lotta guys don't want me on But as long as I
get in a
spot with my fists, my gun be home I
will beat you dudes like you stole from moms In an audience at shows I
just fold my arms I'm so disappointed in you new rap guys I'm like no! C'mon, how'd he do that? Why? Oh, no, he diggity do that doe "I'm MC so-and-so, where's my ringtone dough?" See that ain't gon' cut it long as I'm around That goes for every person, place or thing that describes a
noun It's J-O-E-double what I
never take Whoever feel they could give me my first one then set a
date (I'll Be There) like a
young Mike Jack' Hip-Hop prayed and God gave Pun right back! [echoes]
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