Slaughterhouse - Ya Talkin Lyrics
[Intro]SlaughterhouseDramaIt's "On the House"Some niggas talk that real shitOthers exude itSome niggas get real braggadocious with itOthers just go where they goWhere they go, it go, y'knaw'mean?You only acknowledge that shit if its dead, niggaI ain't got enough to say about itBut Royce does[Verse 1: Royce da 5'9"]These niggas acting like I reached my primeThey keep yapping, let me speak my mindWhile y'all keep talking, I try to stay calmThinking how can you let a few negative comments make you perspire by your armpitsWhen you got your idol right by your arm, shitAnd you're only surrounded by monstersGetting haunted just for celebrating what I've accomplishedAnd get shit stillGot my dick in the back of her mind right around by her tonsilsFor those who try to rush greatness, today is your bedtimeBefore I spew wack hooks and dead lines, I will do fed timeAnd give me time to rap over your deadlineIf it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen***** it, I've been bubbling from thugging and rappingCapturing, publishing, traveling through the underground quietly under their noses like Tubman and ChaplinYou new school shooters, you're nothing, I'm from the old school like Mullin and PaxsonYou bugged out 'til you're bugging assassinI'm dead accurate, run into me, I'm a lead accidentPardon my Bergdorf threads if I don’t appear passionateThey hear that last shit and think that I’m here for fashionJust to take off my glasses and hat, and that shirtScreaming "***** the whole goddamn Earth"I'm bear backing itI'd rather listen to the sound of spitting 13 shellsThan to hear clowns talking first week salesThey don’t know what they’re talking 'boutRiders inside the slaughterhouse, the liars decided to walk it out'Long as we're real, we know that the fake won't employ usWe believe in fate, though the fake won’t destroy usAnd Muddy Waters, as long as Satan’s tongue is avoidedWe don’t give a ***** if Pitchfork don’t support usThey say that Paul and Marshall finally restored orderWhy they're rolling over a dollar looking for change, now I'm here, and I'm providing their four quartersCourtesy of my boy, PorterAs I’m submerged in this coy sporterProbably riding around with a bird in boy shorts swerving in a Panamera four door PorschePressing the pedal to the metal to let it breatheI ***** her and tell her we can never be and she should let it beDrop her off wherever and drive home to the nagging-est***** ever, tell her she’s the queen and I will never leaveAnd that's my life, hate it or love it, I'm likeWhen reality and likeness strikes at the same damn timeCause I came from above it, meaning this gameIf you’re discussing meaningless changeThen ***** you, this discussion just ain’t in the budgetMe and insane completely the sameMy brain just retains genius thangsEven thought my memory sucks, all I remember to do is get *****edGet sucked and just bang my enemies upSomething like that; I can't remember, dangI came from pennies to upFrom Denny’s to dinner with PuffLike ***** Denny’s, I’m famous, I’m paying my duesBy paying for shoes and trucks for my cuz, that’s what I doI'd rather count cash than to do mathAll I need to know is if you're losing you're on the negative, and winning's a plusI’m the general of the tick tick teamWhich means your 15 minutes is up, I’m sprintingAnd yeah, that dust you’re chasing, that’s mines and you’re in itAnd I ain't gotta say who win itThe only time I slow down is when and whereI turn around and said, "Eat my dust," after I finish my cupYou rap new jacks who rapYou can do like Pookie from New JackAnd go to the other side after you finish my dustGet burnt up by the other side like PookieYou’ll end up another actor that died because he liedAnd now he resides inside of an urn from trying to earn trustI earn cause I don’t trust nothing but my gunAnd my gut, this is how I’m cutRich enough to cut one of you little bitty biting ass niggasThen you’ll be rich from just getting a little bitty bit of my cutMy ***** fly, bruhI’m hovering over you while I’m *****ing over youI’m holding her thighs upTell your homies and friends that I’m *****ing the friendly skies upDon’t think since kid Vish driving while I’m nodding out ignorantThat I ain’t riding around and I’m getting itLike 2 Chainz, in order for one of you lames to hit meYou gotta find me and bomb me like I’m Saddam HusseinI can just keep doing it
