Slaughter Session lyrics by Slaughterhouse - original song full text. Official Slaughter Session lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Slaughterhouse – Slaughter Session lyrics
[Verse 1: Royce]
If any one of you players in here oppose me
I'll tear your season apart like D. Rose's knee
Call me the original gangster - O. G.
I'll split your head to the white meat - poultry
That's why my legacy starts where your era begins
I've taken over this franchise like Jeremy Lin
Y'all niggas buyin' your own albums, you pay to sell
Who dares to compare an Alpha to a Beta male?
You lames ain't as hot as me, look the other direction
I'll turn your brain to cottage cheese like some butt injections
Baby, that naval piercing just ain't gon' work
If your fuckin' stomach lookin' like some balled-up homework
I'm the flyest nigga flyin' here... Pioneer
Try me here, you're dying here
I am where the guided... Where the iron, where?
It's only Just, me and Tony Touch
Sippin' Patron out a styrofoamy cup

[Verse 2: Crooked]
50 emcees, how many fans can Tony touch?
Special hoes call us testicles, they know we nuts
I'm the opposite of horny s***s - I don't give a fuck
When it come to shootin', I'm Kobe Klutch
Put 'em on mute when they know the boss is speakin'
Our album's comin' out before it's supposed to
That's how I leave 'em leakin'
Pussy, you tampon - I'm in San Juan
With some Puerto Ricans that'll merk you in church
And ignore the deacon
I'm the god of the West Coast
A lot of niggas rappin' over there, I'm the best, though
House Gang... Escrow, nigga, my neck glow
Like odin' on coke, you'll get the death blow
I run these emcees like Master J
Don't get it backwards like Paul Revere
Rest in peace mc Eiht
Aks, semis and long clips, I'm from Long Beach
Eastside, the city of Crips, cous'

[Verse 3: Joell]
You are now tuned in...
Man, I hope you've been tuned into the most influential
Beat-ruining human being on fluid
Puerto Rican speakin', check me out with the... Movement
I'm Mr. Everybody's Favorite Line
Mr. Unofficial Remixer - hop on there and make it mine
Mr. Stage Ripper, send that grip and ain't a place and time
Mr. Never Front On The Hood - no Mercedes sign
Mr. No Missus, just dope bitches takin' fine licks of mine
From-behind stick it 'til they taste the slime
I'm so gangster, prissy chick don't wanna fuck with me
... Like I care, if it's weave in your hair, I've got trees and a beer
Meet me in the stairs
But be careful, 'cause last time you got pee on your gear
I'll never change 'cause I touch cake
Fuck crushed grapes
Give me Dutch papes and a Touch tape, fuck-face
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