L.A. Leakers Freestyle Slaughterhouse

[Royce Da 5'9]
Yea, my clique shottas, you ain’t fuckin’ with this roster
My bitch a knockout, head to toe like a kick-boxer
Don’t get boxed up, your chick got her lips cocked up
I pull my dick out of my boxers, then Chris Boshed her
Uh, now that my AK’s out in the open
I put his mind on vacay, I rerouted his focus
Uh, now that the ace spade bottle is open
I’m tryna ménage with J.K. Rowling and Oprah
I’m a soldier, I’m not polite
My G, I’ve got lighters, I don’t care about your life
I don’t need to run the street, I don’t need your block
They don’t call me Royce for nothing, my baby I got Dwight/the white
I put you on the asphalt you try to rip my cash off
I eat your face past the jaw then season it with bath salts
It’s Slaughterhouse and the L.A. Leakers
That’s why you niggas whispering like a Dwele feature

[Crooked I]
We ain’t showin’ no mercy nigga
Percy Miller, thirsty killer
Ask around, homie I’m ‘bout 'bout it
Lost my mind, I’m livin’ fine without it
Money on the trigger, that’s bread on the click
Fuck your wall cause you be dead on your dick
Decapitate you like a backwoods savage
Come back to my hood with your head on a stick
Pussy niggas, that’s the shit I don’t like
2 Glock 9’s at the same damn time
Jump off Joe said the nigga don’t write
On 106 and my nigga ain’t lyin’
Walk in the booth, get to talking the truth
Then I cough in the booth when I draw and I shoot
Sawed off introduced, shout out to the group
Too raw to compute, soft niggas mute
Call for a truce, hop in the coupe
Vodka and juice, boss on the loose
Little mama's caboose like a ox and a moose
Coffed the coupe, I’ma hop in the cooch
Toss her a deuce, toss her a deuce
Yea, east side repping Long Beach
I’m from the east side, yes
And my niggas would kill you before I reach for my weapon
Beneath my leave
Got your 357, pow pow
This Slaughterhouse, shady records on my neck
I’m cashing out
Killing every beat then a negro exit
I guess you could say I’m blacking out