Luyện nghe bài hát Slaughterhouse

[Joell
Aiyyo what you said, 24 right?
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 - my mind hovers
above all you suckers wishin, that's word to my mother
You throw a shot at me, I'm throwin a back
Yours is on a joint, mine's by your top hat
Yeah I'm cool but you violate and cock back
Open the mac's mouth and out like I do not rap
I'm sick and of niggaz lyin
They fifth is lyin in the second next door to some bullshit they iron
Y'all be makin up stories the little kids is
I do everything my Penn like a Nittany Lion
I ain't mention the streets on a song
to get in a nigga ass on beats like 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 bars I knew I'd be a
I'm PS4 in HD and the screen is
You're Atari 2600 with a weak
Between us the so crazy
I'm Gucci, Louis V; you're Gap, Old
I get coochie in the V, you attract no
You're suburb, I'm gutter where the go crazy!

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

I]
I write I kill a pen, leak its blood on the page
I breathe bars oxygen locked my lungs in a cage
get fucked on the stage
A pedophile unless I dig in the crates and with somethin my age
Forever vow, to never when I'm at peace
when I'm eatin the deceased like quiche
Only when my enemy's internal organs are a in a feast
The Dahmer with melanin led 'em in the belly of the
You'll be missin until see your corpse
I'll be in Michigan stickin a 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 gorillas these bars, on some zoo shit
Shoot you while you're talkin on news camera crew's shit
Sicker than 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
Tryin to keep 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
outta here, and your ringtone rap career!
It's Crooked I, the face of Eastside Long
Put your ear to the so you can hear my heartbeat

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

Budden]
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 even to the producer it's to I.D. it
Bars tremendous, it's in best interest
I your men just, do your best Bush rendish
Endless, move than two inches
My blood'll boil like I got a big skin
So end or see me ma