[Intro: DJ Premier]
Yo wassup y'all. This is Dj Premier, and I bring to you raw lyrics, raw skills, in the backroom. Slaughterhouse
[Pre-Verse: Joe Budden]
Eight-twenty-eight, Welcome to: Our House. Shady House Gang. We go. Check this, look...
[Verse 1: Joe Budden]
If the motto of the lotto is a dollar and a dream
I don't play it every day it's just insomnia and cream
Fools lookin' for Joe they need a tapper with a beam
Don't make a bad point like Mike Conley's on your team
(Bdatt, Bdatt) Writing's on the wall, know the languages
Learned from Denzel, even a safe house is dangerous
You watch me, I might appear like I do robberies
Brain introduced cocky, don't misconstrue the mirage, B
Flip side, strangers think I'm cool probably
See him throwin' pool parties, bad broads and nude bodies but
My script was edited, I had a ton of change
Project X now, but it started as a Hunger Game
Your bars backed up, pink I'll keep strokin'
But you without a release, tell me how we gon' come the same?
I'm watching paraplegic's sayin' they run the game
I'll be in the cut, let 'em claim what they wanna claim
[Verse 2: Royce da 5'9]
Uhh, my clique shottas, you ain't fuckin' with this roster
My chick a knockout, head to toe like a kick-boxer
Don't get boxed up, your chick got her lips cocked up
I pulled my dick outta my boxers and Chris Bosh'd her
Uh, now that my AK's out in the open
I put his mind on vacay, I rerouted his focus
Yeah, now that the ace spade bottle is open
I'm tryna ménage with J.K. Rowling and Oprah
I'm a soldier, uh, I'm not polite my G
I got lighters, I don't care about your life
I don't need to run the streets, I don't need yo plot
They don't call me Royce for nothin' my baby I got the white
I'll put you on the asphalt, you try to rip my cash off
Rip ya face off and season it with bath salts
I know my way around here like if I designed a compass
When my girl come around here I feel like I jumped inside of a trumpet
I got it locked like I laid my vocal booths in the vault
Especially when it's dark I get desolate with thoughts
I'm gettin' green like Brian Pumper under water
With his whole jewel collection on, wrestlin' the Hulk
Talkin' bout they bust a heater
But when I see 'em, they be more like Justin Bieber
I be with flussers, skeezers, diva..
(Joell, you're supposed to help me out man!)
Yo wassup y'all. This is Dj Premier, and I bring to you raw lyrics, raw skills, in the backroom. Slaughterhouse
[Pre-Verse: Joe Budden]
Eight-twenty-eight, Welcome to: Our House. Shady House Gang. We go. Check this, look...
[Verse 1: Joe Budden]
If the motto of the lotto is a dollar and a dream
I don't play it every day it's just insomnia and cream
Fools lookin' for Joe they need a tapper with a beam
Don't make a bad point like Mike Conley's on your team
(Bdatt, Bdatt) Writing's on the wall, know the languages
Learned from Denzel, even a safe house is dangerous
You watch me, I might appear like I do robberies
Brain introduced cocky, don't misconstrue the mirage, B
Flip side, strangers think I'm cool probably
See him throwin' pool parties, bad broads and nude bodies but
My script was edited, I had a ton of change
Project X now, but it started as a Hunger Game
Your bars backed up, pink I'll keep strokin'
But you without a release, tell me how we gon' come the same?
I'm watching paraplegic's sayin' they run the game
I'll be in the cut, let 'em claim what they wanna claim
[Verse 2: Royce da 5'9]
Uhh, my clique shottas, you ain't fuckin' with this roster
My chick a knockout, head to toe like a kick-boxer
Don't get boxed up, your chick got her lips cocked up
I pulled my dick outta my boxers and Chris Bosh'd her
Uh, now that my AK's out in the open
I put his mind on vacay, I rerouted his focus
Yeah, now that the ace spade bottle is open
I'm tryna ménage with J.K. Rowling and Oprah
I'm a soldier, uh, I'm not polite my G
I got lighters, I don't care about your life
I don't need to run the streets, I don't need yo plot
They don't call me Royce for nothin' my baby I got the white
I'll put you on the asphalt, you try to rip my cash off
Rip ya face off and season it with bath salts
I know my way around here like if I designed a compass
When my girl come around here I feel like I jumped inside of a trumpet
I got it locked like I laid my vocal booths in the vault
Especially when it's dark I get desolate with thoughts
I'm gettin' green like Brian Pumper under water
With his whole jewel collection on, wrestlin' the Hulk
Talkin' bout they bust a heater
But when I see 'em, they be more like Justin Bieber
I be with flussers, skeezers, diva..
(Joell, you're supposed to help me out man!)
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