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letra de dj green lantern "d.o.a." freestyle part 1 - slaughterhouse

[verse 1: royce da 5’9″]
i’m from a grimy city from a bunch of miles away
with no regard for the laws, i’m from a sovereign state
from a murderous block, swerving in the convertible drop
hoping n-ggas heard my proverbial plots
i’m trying to take over the world like pinky the brain
my ‘preme mistress is a b-tch like pinky with brains
or roxy reynolds, i stick d-ck into her
she suck c-ck for a living, tongue kiss with murs
but i don’t feel anger
so like the frame of the nickel-plated chrome four-five, i’mma still bang her
original renegade, n-ggas been afraid
more n-ggas follow than ashton kutcher’s twitter page
chowder time — y’all write, i sprinkle powder lines
if kelly beat his case, my lawyer gonna swallow mines
so put your nines on the cr-p table
you like gambling — i’m patron sipping, signed to black label
champagne wishes become realities
bad b-tches, fly minus the travel needs
my d-ck is the biggest thing on my anatomy
i dis n-ggas for nothing like, “why you mad at me?”
nickel is still reckless
the last n-gga got k!lled that made me feel threatened
who really cares what a rapper talking?
the only feeling that ain’t familiar is after losses
i shoot a n-gga dead in the head, and go back to boston
with a trunk full of white, i call it asher roth’n
feel honored if i talk about your -ss often
you should wanna sleep in the bed i was jacking off in
it’s a reason these motherf-ckers is backing off ‘im
he floyd mayweather, paul williams, and chad dawson
all rolled up in one, his money trash-talking
amongst bosses, hanging out in the cash office
n-gga, you testing the one — nickel second to none
i’m hotter than texas at three, i’m effecting the sun
i don’t just sound raw
i disconnect your sh-t, have you walking around with bobby brown jaw
and then whitney said crack was wack
and it offended me like, floozy, why you dissing my music?
and you can ask proof, we come from chopper city
minus the wack suit and the beef with ness
forever inhaling the smell of that sweet success
that calico talking, saying, “we the best!”
i’m the fed-teaser
this b-tch said, “who the f-ck died and made you god?”
i said jesus
i’m in the zone, i feel like a star
and n-gga, you know what to do if you feel like a frog
go on, jump in that traffic, you playing frogger
i ain’t no blogger, i’m mr. rearrange-your-aura
n-ggas thinking all we got is internet soldiers
’09 is the fear year — respect’s over
the o.g.s taught me how to do it one way
so i ain’t down for no games unless it’s gunplay
n-ggas’ll murder judges over murder grudges
i don’t put money on heads, i just refer to cuz’s
i drop dope records that’s hot like a furnace
the needle on that record player is hypodermic
receive food from an intravenous tube
k!ll your -ss in private, between me and you
i’m sick enough to go up in your house
sickening rhymes, i spit ’em and throw up in my mouth
you f-cking round with the slaughterhouse conglomeron
like catching your parents f-cking, i leave you traumatized
the beef live til the drama dies
my daughter can get struck by lightning if i ain’t down for homicide

[verse 2: joe budden]
i’m one of one
i promise there ain’t another n-gga built in my pedigree
rappers ain’t a threat to me
take my words how you wanna — it’s the easiest extortion you gonna ever see
just worship, mission won’t get diverted
say mouse, you’re f-cking with n-ggas that you know’ll get murdered
started in my youth, i blame streetfighter 2
back when winning wasn’t nothing, n-gga had to get a perfect
roasting me, zero is what they gross to me
no ratchet on ‘im, i’m protected by a rosary
i don’t pay mind to the vets and what they throw at me
i ain’t hear a word they say, it’s deaf poetry
call l.a. reid, craig kallman, rifkind, sylvia, e1 and get alan
alert the geek squad and call the goons
all the bullsh-t in the game, only thing they wanna k!ll is f-cking autotune
but before you gun it down
know they only say hip hop is dead — the dope sh-t is underground
radio, shotty to its wig
and tell fab i can’t put it in a bag cause the body too big
listen, some haters out there wanna sn-tch me up
working with half they head, got a c-ssie cut
aware of the scene
they don’t look my way, i mirror dreams
they car note and rent is my pair of jeans
street, i don’t be around those narcs
bloggers keep typing as if they could download heart
let’s begin with common sense, don’t make it sound so sharp
n-gga, if you see a fin, you around those sharks
this a funeral, this how fans cry for the beat
tired of hearing how you hired with the heat
every verse lame, about his great aim and how he snipe in the streets
but every time he take a p-ss, end up wiping the seat, pause
i make sure it’s no women, no kids in sight
phone call’ll make his address demolition site
yes-men do whatever your battery say
a dream can’t tell make up — my anatomy’s gray
n-gga, tell me who keep it hotter for jerz
y’all picked the wrong group to bother with words
think n-ggas got a lot of nerve
it’s magic, you skip
i’m jameer, my spot’s reserved
your spot’s a reserve
n-ggas is scared of the truth
look in my eyes, you stare at the truth
they doing interludes in any interview
talking bout how they prepared to shoot
how thoughtful, won’t resort to getting near a booth
thought so — what i do to ’em unlawful
boss dude, ain’t got a higher-up to resort to
just giving yourself a bad name
yakety-yak them threats; in fact, it’s that lame
if you can’t tell that act’s arranged
think i’m wearing a bulls-eye and just all them cats got bad aim?
i’ll explain — i’m past real, n-ggas is past phony
avoid the personal and physical attacks on me
i remain cool — relaxed, homie
brand new, i ain’t got a scratch on me
so what your squad gon’ do?
lay a hand on me, i lay a hollow on you
chain sn-tch, tap his pockets, take his wallet, go through
every club in new york and pop bottles on you
better tell him what reluctance is
i’m controlled by uncontrolled substances
truth be told, i show em what substance is
i know i’m nice, so when i boast i’m only rubbing it in
n-ggas got beat up, ignored in school
signed a deal, n-ggas thought you was cool
only take one quarter to slaughter your crew
if they resumes got deaded today
they’d call you a fool
got all them years rapping, nothing else happening
you need a new day-to-day
old heads in the game with no other way to get paid
they gasping, time out, gon take a break from the clay
and grab a gatorade
bad contract, team can’t make a trade
majors f-cking you in the -ss, you gonna stay a slave
5’9″ in my ear saying, “hey, behave”
but sh-t is f-cked up, and i blame it on the way it was paved
i’ll chill for the sake of your age
you great live, but let me know when that stage get appraised
all in, raising the stakes
swear you and your label should pray to god i was placed in this decade by mistake
i don’t belong here
dad f-cked mom in the wrong year
wrong n-gga amongst fans with wrong ears
wrong trends, with funny sounds every song’s weird
wrong fashion, it’s like every n-gga’s gone queer

[verse 3: joell ortiz]
mic check, one thing that i could do is spit
i’ll hammer you mcs quick, y’all ain’t too legit
you interfere with my guap, your medulla’s split
y’all wilding, my stomach growling like the rudest pit
for being so smart, i stay on some stupid sh-t
but if dummies make a smart comment, i’m dumping ruger clips
and i keep it true with fifths
i give your eye a cookie
and punch the cookie, just see just how black and blue it gets
yaowa! i’m in tune with what the gutter loves
i hop on beat and son n-ggas like a mother does
they hear me, they like, “hey yo, that brother’s bug”
they hear you, they like, “oh no, not another thug”
you chase the b-tches who don’t wanna scrub
i done f-cked project b-tches on my roof with a rubber glove
we two different dudes
i be praised, you be getting booed
i feed n-ggas, you just n-ggas’ food
all you do is get chewed like wack grits
every time i get chewed, it’s a bad b-tch
oh, i’m fronting — sometimes i choose some average
but that’s six jacks and c0ke in the spot, and she the last b-tch
and i just couldn’t bag sh-t
she just stuck around cause she on my fat–ss d-ck
ha! i’m just f-cking ’round, green
but i feel good, basically jay-z in the underground scene
listen — i’m in a zone of my own, my condolences
to anyone or any group that’s opposing this
this ain’t a song, this a movement — we controlling this
you can’t beat us, we don’t want you to join us
so move over, b-tch
it’s our time, the tides done came in
please exit the water, you’ll die if you can’t swim
this music’s a novel, you still on page ten
i read it, rewrote it, and published it, called it amen
see, ortiz is the lord’s gift to this four-fifth bullsh-t that y’all worship
i’m a lyrical warship
and god forbid i should fall from up off this boat
i’ll land in the water, come up and finish you with a swordfish
this hip-hop is my office, believe i go to work
and when i promote it, this cd’s almost over, jerk
i sit there and write to a track until my shoulders hurt
and when both arms is done, i put my toes to work
you gotta hear what i gotta say, i’m just like that
from what i’m hearing this day and age, i don’t like rap
i was a fan, i used to love this sh-t
but y’all getting away with murder, like the glove don’t fit
y’all either flossing or talking like savages
i don’t mention a coffin or doggie, i’m not having it
you n-ggas rapping is fractions below average
i don’t care what the f-ck you can do with a little half a brick
i did some things i ain’t proud of to support mine
left that on the street — on beat ain’t where you talk crime
plus you lying — whenever you on the court line
it’s to pay a ticket for parking your whip on the wrong side
thugs is somewhere doing what it is that thugs do
rappers is rapping, and y’all ain’t doing that — what the f-ck is you?
you’re bluffing, you’s nothing, you’re stuffing on thanksgiving
my tummy is hungry, i’ll put you on a plate — listen
i’m making it hard like a bl-wj-b with great rhythm
i know joey gon’ pause me, but i ain’t even trying to play with ‘im
feed ’em this money, they handing out a changed living
project is ugly, i daily barely escaped prison
i was starting to feel pinned down like a rape victim
wishing for a deal, trying to deal with the fact that i hate wishing

- slaughterhouse

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