Microphone

Slaughterhouse

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    "The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone" [repeat in background]

    [Royce Da 5'9"]
    Yeah, yeah...
    Too many Indians and no chiefs
    I pull out the pistol when I pull no piece
    I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes
    lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints
    When I bless a joint - it's like Spock
    came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point
    I got the voc' in touch
    I tell my bitch I'ma, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up
    Too many enemies and no killers
    Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers
    I get stacks (stacks)
    I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap
    I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope
    Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back
    So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?
    (Die Hard) like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it
    Too many hood guys, not enough good guys
    The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-i
    I don't be fuckin around on that microphone
    When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone
    The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone
    I put my heart and my soul in that microphone
    I put it down on that (microphone)
    Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone

    [Crooked I]
    But turn it down if you weak on that microphone
    Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone
    My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone
    That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone
    Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone
    Like James Brown I'ma DIE on the microphone
    Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone
    They on the same bullshit that Mike was on
    You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard
    I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)
    You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve
    I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!
    We the mob, homie who need a job?
    Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob
    Too many in this industry I need to rob
    And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!
    Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest
    Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest
    I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me
    they better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness
    Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies
    If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?

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    [Joell Ortiz]
    You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone
    I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone
    Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone
    I turn a father to a son on that microphone
    I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone
    And tell his R's I don't need no microphone
    Too many critics tend to be silly
    Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies
    I get it poppin like a ineen milli{?}
    Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a (Free Willy)
    Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really
    Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily
    None of you kids spit evenly
    You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me
    Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame
    Too many claimin insanity and they so sane
    Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game
    Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine
    Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name
    In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses
    Too many monkey see, monkey doers
    I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster

    [Joe Budden]
    Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone
    Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone
    I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone
    A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone
    Decide who you wan' be on that microphone
    I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones
    Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on
    Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on
    Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off
    I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across
    All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft
    Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off
    Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap
    They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope
    Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet
    Too many blueprints, not enough architects
    Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess
    FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best
    I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test
    I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next
    Too many frontin like y'all that fly
    REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)

    [Royce] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone
    [Crook] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone
    [Joell] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone
    [Joe B] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone

    "The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone" [repeat to fade]

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Joe Budden, D. Wickliffe, J. Ortiz, R. Montgomery y A. Maman

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