Slaughterhouse

Woodstock (hoop Hop)

Slaughterhouse


[Intro: M.O.P.]
Hahaha... they think they rid ourselves
We definitely got to give the drummer somethin (c'mon!)
Slaughterhouse (c'mon!) M.O.P. (c'mon!)
Everybody (c'mon!)

[Joell Ortiz]
H-E- (what?) L-L-O, I'm one hell of a show
I'm the best, you stuck in the middle like L-M-N-O
I'll piss on you, let every toxic elements go
All you pussies is fucked, call me now celibate Joe (ay!)
Ay Slaughterhouse, let's go rock "Ed Sullivan Show"
I literally can't front, I'm back like never befo' (oh!)
I'ma rap my letter to hoes
Dear prostitute, I miss y'all lettin me slap my head on your nose
Where the fuck is my guitar? It couldn't of went far
Oh yeah, I smashed it on homie head in that Brook-lyn bar
Man I'm somewhere in between a crook and a star
Had some more bars but I left my rap book in the car (yo yo yo yo yo)

[Chorus: M.O.P.]
Yo, this that Woodstock hood hop!
Hands up if you fuckin with it
We reppin Brooklyn (c'mon!) Jersey (c'mon!)
Long Beach (c'mon!) Detroit (c'mon!)

[Crooked I]
Geah, spaz out, knock a nigga ass out
Knew he had a paper thin chin and a glass mouth
West Coast shit, seven-deuce glass house
Got a (Lil' Fame) so me and my (Posse Mash Out) (ohh!)
I ain't got a college degree
Just the Circle of Bosses, the Slaughter's in me - pardon me G
I just wanna fuck your daughter and flee
And leave all that married shit in the background like I'm Father MC
Ha ha, cocky, but don't be a copycat
When you see me rockin that, L.A. Kings hockey hat
I'm the king of L.A., do you copy that?

It's time for some change like Obama in a laundry-mat

[Chorus]

[Royce Da 5'9"]
Do y'all want problems with us? I guess not
Broadcastin live from a Pyrex pot
The steeets know that we nice, try your best shot
Speech coded in ice, dialect's hot
Everybody (c'mon) get cool
Beef in big shoes, gun talkin repetitive call it Chip-Fu
You ain't never heard of me mami you excused
I don't only diss dudes
You sleepin on us, that's what it is - just understand
That I ain't gettin a wink of sleep 'til you lookin at the back of your lids
I'm a lyrical ounce of PIFF