всё равно не спасёт твою жопу от фрикций! Бойня номер шесть! Это будет жесть! Noize MC уже здесь! Отдавайте честь! Есть! Здесь Вас ожидает месть За бойню номер пять На бойне
Грязь и бычий стон. Возьми нож. Вон, Прочь неси сомнения. Твой удар поставит На колени тварь. Оставь своё сопротивление. Грязь и бычий стон. Возьми топор
Tear drops in the pillow on my bed Still trying to keep my head up Know you'd rather see me dead And the raindrops keep on falling I said they keep on
[Verse 1: Ludacris] Death by lyrical injection I kill you rappers A lot of green with a yellow complexion Women call me the Green Bay packer I pack the
Grind Music bitch! [Sheek Louch] Aiyyo Joell, I'm on this son {"Put some money on it"} Yeah, Don Corlito flyin out a Tito The further I get the ground
Well, I'm headed down the southern trail, I'm goin' chicken huntin' Choppin' red neck chicken necks, I ain't sayin' nothin' To the hillbilly, stick my
I'm dreaming of the lights coming from behind Cloud is getting clearer, closer all the time Darker, taller, bigger, all blackness under wing Reaping holy
Yeah, I said, "Once upon a time in a city that's mine" There was a nigga named Nickel that spit like Big in his prime He got a 52 box, original tick in
[Intro] Here we go yo, here we go Pick it up yo, here we go [Chorus] BACK ON THE SCENE CRISPY AND CLEAN BACK ON THE SCENE CRISPY AND SLAUGHTERHOUSE! [
[Intro: Joe Budden] Ladies and gentlemen! Frequency, I present The new fight club up in this bitch (Slaughterhouse) We go by the name of Slaughterhouse
My triggers is stupid, you thugs is funny My guns be, goin', eh, for the love of money Dumb, fabulous rhymer give you luger lasagna Hula hoop, hold you
Hello hip-hop, goodbye music It's like a love hate relationship Ridin' in the Ferrari while takin' trips Compared to beer takin' sips Sittin' somewhere
Ladies and gentlemen Hey, ho Slaughterhouse Hey, woo Slaughterhouse in the place to be, see And we got what it takes to rock the mic We gon' take it
I'm not afraid of the storm, no It seems like you're slipping away I'm not afraid of the storm, no I'm not afraid of the storm You fuckin' with a killa
[Intro: 50 Cent sample] Fix your motherfuckin face nigga! Look at these fuckin chimpanzees Bunch of fuckin monkeys... (Mr. Porter!) [Chorus: Pharoahe
You herbs we merged, we're an alliance We fight fire with flamethrowers, why would you try us? We an outfit, equivalent to Voltron's That boy Crooked
[Joell Ortiz:] I define gutter, everytime I rhyme I climb up another notch Hip hop got my spine smothered But I'll be fine brother My mind hovers above
Slaughterhouse Sex and drugs and dirty money On the race to rule the world You cut your teeth on fame and diamonds Your time is up now, three, two, one
