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letra de party - slaughterhouse

[intro: crooked i & (royce da 5’9″)]
what the f-ck you talking ’bout?
(you ain’t in my lane, n-gg-)
this is slaughterhouse
(me and you ain’t the same, n-gg-)

[verse 1: crooked i]
why you think your b-tch on my d-ck?
cause i’m a paid n-gg-
made n-gg- deep in her p-ssy like a grave digga
i’m so high that i can chill on the roof
pop a oxycontin pill in the booth, give ’em the truth
tell the world them lyrical killers still on the loose
if i make the crowd bounce my n-gg- eminem’ll recoup
that’s why the rhymes crooked i spit is making a mosh pit
fly sh-t, sicker than hospice, takin’ ’em hostage
yeah, we don’t party like you n-gg-s do
we don’t party like them n-gg-s do
4 a.m. 20 groupies on the tour bus
on a c-ke high, waitin’ to f-ck the 4 of us
nah, we don’t party like you n-gg-s do
nah, we don’t party like you n-gg-s do
put some blue dolphins off in a rocket
i’m ’bout to blast off, now i’m feelin’ proper
we don’t party like you n-gg-s do
we don’t party like you n-gg-s do

[hook: royce da 5’9″]
wadadadang wadadadadang
wadadadang wadadadadang

[verse 2: royce da 5’9]
f-ck you nerds doing everything cause jay z done said it
f-ck you and your new urge to be a fake sneaker head
f-ck you and your ball game floor seats
if you just there with a broad, neither one of y’all ain’t scorekeep
‘prolly thought lebron was a cornerback
heat game, wearing grape 5’s and a h-rnets hat
f-ck you and your leather jerseys and hairy arms
n-gg-s bald then they get big headed like barry bonds
f-ck you and the crowd you perform in front of
like you was born a stunna, your money reformed a runner
your instagram got pictures saying i heard he’s rich
so you just f-cked your first bad b-tch at 36
that’s what i call fake felt, never saw a weight scale
shirt tucked in in front, showin’ off your h belt
this one of them moments where your money ain’t the issue
i can call you corny cause corny n-gg-s get rich too
still a sucker, corny n-gg-s get rich too
we don’t party like you n-gg-s do

[hook: royce da 5’9″]
wadadadang wadadadadang
wadadadang wadadadadang

[verse 3: joell ortiz]
man f-ck you f-ckboys, you boys f-ckin’ with the wrong one
f-ck your fake high, don’t give a f-ck if you’re on one
f-ck that broad you’re f-ckin’, that p-ssy prolly smell cray
f-ck, you ain’t a g, who give a f-ck what your belt say?
f-ck you and your section and your bottles and your sparklers
and your shades that look like night vision goggles, f-ck you
knock off, enough with all the narcotics you knock off
the hood jump off the only time you get your rocks off
snap, in fact you never pop off, your block’s soft
man i’ll knock everybody on your block’s block off
you fake gat clapper, mad actor
i’m backwards, watch how this pump give you mad asthma
put your punk story in it’s last chapter
i f-cked the pumps off a d but you a cat stacker
no party’s like a house party, yeah
you know a shorty’s sleepin’ on that couch, prolly dead
that’s what we get into, why even knock? you’ll never get into
a house party, we don’t party like you n-gg-s do

[hook: royce da 5’9″]
wadadadang wadadadadang
wadadadang wadadadadang

[verse 4: joe budden]
i know a couple new n-gg-s tried to start this
lemme help you out dawg, trickin’ is still trickin’ regardless
we not in the same, you funny to us, i use mouth for my jeans, you need your money to f-ck

- slaughterhouse

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