Luyện nghe bài hát Slaughterhouse

[Joell
Joey what you said, 24 right?
cool, I got you

Uhh, I define gutter - time I rhyme
I climb up another notch, got my spine smothered
But I'll be brother - my mind hovers
above all you jive suckers wishin, that's to my mother
You throw a at me, I'm throwin a shot back
is on a joint, mine's whistlin by your top hat
Yeah I'm cool but you and I'll cock back
Open the mac's mouth and black out I do not rap
I'm sick and of niggaz lyin
They fifth is lyin in the drawer next door to some bullshit they iron
Y'all be makin up stories the kids is buyin
I do everything my Penn State like a Lion
I ain't gotta mention the streets on a
to get in a nigga ass on these beats a thong, pause
Veterans co-sign me, the up-and-comers
The pretty go "Papi, here's my underwear!"
Never in a hundred I thought I'd be a rapper
But in less than a hundred bars I knew I'd be a
I'm PS4 in HD and the screen is
You're 2600 with a weak adapter
Between us the gap's so
I'm Gucci, Louis V; Gap, Old Navy
I get in the V, you attract no ladies
You're suburb, I'm where the gats go crazy!

Bless]
Look, you know,
Fuck a lecture, tryin to be Pun's successor
That done fucker, what up whatever
You birds is food, I'm about to pluck feathers
I'm young and clever, clutch under pressure
Yup! Who does this
Walk around with medal all on me the front of Shredder
I lust for you owe me
Leave in your vest that'll open your chest like a sunken treasure
I'm somethin, a phenomenon
Droppin for fun then dine in hell during Ramadan
Whatever I'm on or whoever
I tear 'em apart; swear on my
No, fear in my heart, shit, been it all
Done swam with the sharks, fins with my jaws
I'm all that, and a bag of the piff
off of a brick of hash mixed with acid hits like sick cracker
Get back, dumb birds I the hype
Click-clack, Berg'd if you flossin ice
Dawg, cross me twice, afford the price
It'll cost you, off your life!
You soft, I told you I'm raw when I'm on this mic
Still mourn at night, don't wanna see mornin
And I like I'm forced to fight
When the CHiPS are like Ponch fallin off his bike (AHHH!)
Of course my are tight awesome, right?
I got 'em in awe, my aura's Jordan
really poppin? Who diddy-boppin?
You wasn't really, now you all and really conscious
I ain't with that silly nonsense, I pop shit
My gun cocked like Biggie's optics
I, I stay evolvin but bitter
On your they're carvin "Fucked with the wrong nigga"

I]
I don't write I kill a pen, its blood on the page
I breathe bars oxygen locked my lungs in a cage
Instrumentals get on the stage
A pedophile I dig in the crates and fuck with somethin my age
Forever vow, to never smile when I'm at
Only when I'm eatin the deceased like
Only when my enemy's organs are a smorgasbord in a feast
The Dahmer melanin led 'em in the belly of the beast
You'll be missin until fishermen see corpse
I'll be in Michigan a chicken in my Michelin
ready to pigeon pitch from Switzerland to New York
I was whippin Bentleys them pictures up in the Source
I'm a behind these bars, on some zoo shit
Shoot you while you're on some news camera crew's shit
Sicker flyin in past tense on some flu shit
Day-old flow, I drop new shit!
Exclusive! You want it in fact
I'll have the operatin on the front of your back
to keep your stomach intact
The spiritual you, leavin body, he don't wanna go back
That's when the tunnel go black; I your soul to the atmosphere
Fuck here, and your ringtone rap career!
It's Crooked I, the face of Eastside Long
Put your ear to the street so you can hear my

Da 5'9"]
Nickel!
I hope niggaz I'll show up to your show
show up where you go, show up to your do', fo's will explode
shells 'fore they hit the flo', I know know
I got a window flow, I air shit OUT
In the D they used to call me Mayor
Now they me Clay Davis
Guess "Sheeeeeeeeeeee-it"
Cause when it come to them words you I wear shit out
I rhymes like, white lines on a nose tray
Ice cold Ice flow like O'Shea
shotgun with Chris Martin my DJ
Not the white boy, but I'm down for the
Forever stay violent, better stay
Hammers stay hummin like strummin the mandolin
Speakin of, I done a tune of violence
than my nigga Charles Hamilton played Sonic
I niggaz up, clap niggaz up, scrap niggaz up
Either that or we slap niggaz up
Dump dirt on you - before I go
my Maino mode if I smell the scent of Yung Berg on ya
'Til it ain't no mo', no dough
Get into his ass cause I ain't opposed, I'm a anal probe
I'm a lame-ophobe, matter fact my JumpOff
Can I keep goin? (Why the not!)
When I was a teen, I used to a three-eighty
Now I'm spittin sittin between and Jay (ohh!)
I pull the jeans on my bitch and then wave
Cause the pussy Max B wavy when she ain't
I leave the booth smellin like somebody ain't
I would talk Kimbo but I ain't crazy
I'm like Marty McFly goin back in
and dissin his momma nigga you can't me

[Joe
say he a bastard for real, then they see the ass on his girl
So wonderin, why's he so mad at the world?
I it out on tracks, I R.I.P. it
So to the producer it's hard to I.D. it
Bars tremendous, in your best interest
I insist your men just, do your Bush rendish
Endless, move more than two
My blood'll boil like I got a big cyst
So end or see me ma