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royce da 59 - slaughter lyrics
[freestyle over jay-z’s: “brooklyn we go hard” beat.]
[cha-ching]
[5 seconds instrumental]
[chorus: female]
slaughter… [5 seconds instrumental]
slaughter… [5 seconds instrumental]
[verse:]
i’m from a grimey city, from a bunch of miles away (c’mon!)
with no regards for the law, i’m from a sovereigns state. (hahah!)
from a murderous block! (block!) – swirving in a convertible drop (pow!)
making sure you heard my proverbial plot! (whoooo!)
i’m tryna take over the world like pinky the brain
my dream mistress is a b-tch like pinky with brains.
or roxy renolds, i stick d-ck into her
she suck c-ck for a living, tongue kiss with mur. [gun c-cks & shot]
but i don’t feel anger,
tilt like the frame of the nickel plated chrome .4-5, i’m a still bang her! (yeess!)
“original “regenade””! – n-gg-s still afraid. (hahaa!)
more n-gg-s follow than ashton kutchers’ “twitter” page. (whoooo!)
chowder time, y’all right! – i sprinkle powder lines
if kelly beat his case, my lawyers gon’ swallow mine.
so put your nines on the cr-p table
you life gambling, i’m patron sippin’, signed to “black label”. (aahh!) [gun c-cks & shot]
champaigne wishes; become realities
bad b-tches fly minus the travel needs.
my d-ck is the biggest thing on my anatomy
i diss n-gg-s for nothing, like why you mad at me? (why?)
nickel is definitely still wreckless
the last n-gg- got killed that made me feel threatened.
ha! – who really cares what a rapper’s talking?
the only feeling that ain’t familiar is after losses. (losses!)
i’ll shoot ed o.g. in the head and go back to boston
with a trunk full of white. – we call it asher rothen!
fell honored if i talk about your -ss often,
you should wanna sleep into the bed i was jackin’ off in.
it’s a reason these motherf-ckers backing off him, (uh-huh!)
he floyd mayweather, paul williams and chad dawson! (haha!)
all rolled up in 1, his money trash talking
amongst bosses chillin’ out in cash office. (whooo!) [gun c-cks & shot]
n-gg- you testing the one, nickel second to none (yess!)
i’m hotter than texas at 3, i’m effecting the sun. (haa!)
i don’t just sound raw
i disconnect your sh-t! – have you walkin’ around with bobby brown jaw? (brown jaw!)
and then whitney said: “crack is wack! ”
and it offended me like: “fluzy! – why you dissing my music? ”
and you can ask proof! – we come from choppa city!
minus the wack suit and the beef with ness. (haha!) [gun c-cks & shot]
forever inhaling the smell of that sweet success (yess!)
the calico talking! – saying: “we the best! ” [shot]
i’m a fan teaser!
this b-tch saying: “who the f-ck died and made you god? ” – i said jesus! (come on!) [shot]
i’m in the zone i feel like a star
and you know what to do if you feel like a frog.
go jump into traffic! – you playing frogger
i ain’t a blogger, i’m “mr.-rearrange-your-aura”! (whoo!)
n-gg-s thinking all i got is internet soldiers
’09 is the fear year! – respects ova!
the og’s taught me how to do it one way
so i ain’t down for no games, unless it’s gun play! (uh-uh!)
n-gg-s’ll murder judges! (judges!) – over murder grudges. (grudges!)
i don’t put money on heads, i just refer to cousins
i dropped dope records! – that’s hot like a furnace
the needle on that record player, is hypothermic. [gun c-cks & shot]
the seafood from intervenace tube, (tube!)
kill you in private between me and you!
i’m sick enough to go up in your house,
sicking of rhymes, i spit up and throw up in my mouth, ugggghhh.!
you f-cking around with the slaughterhouse conglomerad (conglomerad!)
like catching your parents f-cking i’ll leave you traumatized. (traumatized!)
the beef live ’til the drama dies (dies!)
my daughter can get struck by lightning if i ain’t down for homicide. [gun c-cks & shot] (whoo!)
you don’t believe in me, you an atheist thug! (come one n-gg-!)
my b-tch p-ssy delicious, it’s the flavor of love! (aaaahhhhhh!)
f-ck what they say! – i tattoo your face!
danger! – but that ain’t for the love of ray j! (hahaaaa!)
i got a cold heart! – i call my p-n-s: “d-cky”!
‘fore i let ya’ll bullsh-t me, i’ll let serena kick me. (let’s go!)
and she got thunder thighs. – how could she be so “heartless”
and give you the business but i ain’t from the chi.
a product of the bores, where barry gordon records
i’m talking a-1, yo let that’s totally pure. (yeess!)
i flow bodies of water, dead fisherman haunt me
i gotta temper of a trigger, the d-ck of a donkey. (oooohh!)
i’m a “souljah, boy”! – yea ‘m the last breathing
no need to turn on my swag, come on i’m swag sleepin’. (yeess!)
y’all n-gg-s flows is old! y’all sound like last weekend
a mardi delorian and party with a bad rican. [gun c-cks & shot]
[outro:]
slaughter house is this b-tch-n-gg-!
sucker free, f-ck a b-tch n-gg-!
hahahahahah!
b.e. 3! [shot] [windows broke]
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