Soundoff - Slaughterhouse

You herbs we merged, we’re an alliance

We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?

We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron’s

That boy Crooked I’s equivalent to four arms

Joell Ortiz is the body

The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body

Joe Budden is the pair of legs

He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head

I am the general, bow now

Fuck salutin, I don’t really think y’all niggas get it

Run up on you with an army it is

On 'til it’s done, finished

You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters

Then y’all niggas can come wit it

Me and Joey we a perfect fit

He likes startin shit, I like endin shit

I don’t squash the beef, I don’t bend a bit, it ain’t intricate

I’m gon' shoot yo' stupid ass

You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin

Try whylin I get hostile then I’m violent

I don’t make threats nigga I promise

My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics

If you hear it it’ll lift your spirit

Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but my clique

Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I put my, money on my clique

Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth

I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so

Guess that’s why I’m the torso

I pour sweat when I perform shows

What I record goes down as the best but the vets won’t let that torch go

Y’all could keep it, they got flashlights now

And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now

Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then

Don’t wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends

Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain’t none of you cowards friends

Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten

One two three four five six seven eight

I’m hungry like I never ate

Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I’m 'bout to get a plate

All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak

Me and these dudes never separate, we ain’t married

Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date

I’ll devastate your career, look I’mma demonstrate

Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate

Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don’t try to rhyme

Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I’m divine

And I’m right behind the big guy that shines

All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind

C’mere girl, toma toma, take that take that

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but my clique

Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I put my, money on my clique

Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth

You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things

Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans

The West treat me like I’m really king

I’m Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen

You rappers dressin like you finna sing «Billie Jean»

I gotta intervene, fuck you I’mma intervene

You loud talkin wouldn’t kill a thing

Matter of fact, where’s your head nigga?

I got the guillotine

Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling

I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam

I’ll put your pad on your property fag

Properly rob you and hop in the Jag

If you stoppin the profit the Glock’ll be poppin

Your body’ll rock a colostomy bag

Shot in the abs, moms’ll be sad

Pops’ll be mad, doctor be glad

Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin

Clock runnin out and the outcome bad

Any one of you niggas that’s fuckin with my team

Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam

Sleep on that and get killed while you dream

Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine

Slaughterhouse a regime

I’m gooned up if you know what I mean

Everybody wanna be down with the king

No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but my clique

Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I put my, money on my clique

Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth

My one goal’s to astonish

Tell the president, V.P.

(you could) notify the congress

They say I’m arrogant, pompous but I’m honest

I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished

They still makin threats on your highness

But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass

I think all your mans' Play-Doh

I don’t buy that movie «Fandango»

Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel

Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL

Tell lil' dudes I ain’t mad at y’all

College kids like Asher Roth

Y’all just trying to put food on the table

And I’mma just come and try snatch it off

If it ain’t from me, most young dudes will be angrily

But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy

Wonder what makes lil' muh’fuckers think they’re the same as me

I’m synchronized, you and your mens’ll die

Learn certain shit you ain’t meant to try

Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise

Best bet’s to attempt to fly

Shit’s a gang, you down you in for life

Fuck y’all I ain’t gotta generalize

Y’all ain’t able to write what the pen describes

So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but my clique

Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I put my, money on my clique

Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth