Luyện nghe bài hát Slaughterhouse

[Joell
Aiyyo Joey what you said, 24
cool, I got you

Uhh, I define gutter - every I rhyme
I climb up notch, hip-hop got my spine smothered
But I'll be fine brother - my mind
above all you jive suckers wishin, that's to my mother
You throw a at me, I'm throwin a shot back
Yours is on a joint, whistlin by your top hat
Yeah I'm cool but you violate and cock back
Open the mouth and black out like I do not rap
I'm sick and tired of niggaz
They fifth is lyin in the second drawer next to some bullshit they iron
be makin up stories the little kids is buyin
I do everything my Penn State a Nittany Lion
I ain't gotta the streets on a song
to get in a nigga ass on these beats a thong, pause
Veterans co-sign me, the scared
The pretty go "Papi, here's my underwear!"
in a hundred years I thought I'd be a rapper
But in less than a hundred I knew I'd be a factor
I'm PS4 in HD and the is plasma
You're 2600 with a weak adapter
Between us the so crazy
I'm Gucci, Louis V; Gap, Old Navy
I get in the V, you attract no ladies
You're suburb, I'm gutter where the go crazy!

[Nino
Look, you know,
a lecture, ain't tryin to be Pun's successor
That term's done fucker, what up
You birds is food, I'm about to pluck some
I'm young and clever, clutch under pressure
Yup! Who this better?
Walk around medal all on me like the front of Shredder
I lust for you owe me
Leave holes in vest that'll open your chest like a sunken treasure
I'm somethin, like a
Droppin bombs for fun then dine in hell Ramadan
Whatever I'm rhymin on or
I tear 'em apart; swear on my
No, fear in my heart, shit, been it all
Done swam with the sharks, snapped fins with my
I'm all that, and a bag of the baddest
off of a brick of hash mixed with acid hits like sick cracker
Get back, dumb birds I ignore the
Click-clack, Yung Berg'd if you ice
Dawg, cross me twice, can't the price
cost you, I'll off your life!
You soft, I told you I'm raw when I'm on this mic
Still mourn at night, wanna see mornin light
And I feel like I'm to fight
When the CHiPS are down like Ponch off his bike (AHHH!)
Of course my metaphors are awesome, right?
I got 'em in awe, my aura's Jordan
What's poppin? Who diddy-boppin?
You wasn't really, now you all Common and really
I ain't that silly nonsense, I really pop shit
My gun stay cocked like Biggie's
I, I stay evolvin but grown
On your grave they're carvin "Fucked with the nigga"

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

Da 5'9"]
Nickel!
I hope know I'll show up to your show
I'll show up where you go, up to your do', fo's will explode
shells 'fore they hit the flo', I niggaz know
I got a window flow, I air shit OUT
In the D they used to call me Royce
Now they call me Davis
Guess "Sheeeeeeeeeeee-it"
Cause when it come to them words you know I shit out
I write rhymes like, white lines on a tray
Ice Ice Cube flow like O'Shea
Ridin shotgun with Martin my DJ
Not the boy, but I'm down for the Coldplay
Forever stay violent, stay silent
Hammers stay hummin strummin the mandolin violin
Speakin of, I done played a tune of
More my nigga Charles Hamilton played Sonic
I wrap niggaz up, clap niggaz up, niggaz up
Either that or we slap niggaz up
dirt on you - right before I go
into my Maino 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 livin probe
I'm a lame-ophobe, matter my nigga JumpOff
Can I goin? (Why the fuck not!)
When I was a teen, I to pack a three-eighty
Now I'm spittin between Shady and Jay (ohh!)
I pull the jeans down on my bitch and then
Cause the pussy Max B wavy when she shave
I the booth smellin like somebody ain't sprayed
I would talk about Kimbo but I crazy
I'm like Marty McFly goin in time
and dissin his momma nigga you fade me

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