[Joell Ortiz]
As long as I got my pen I don�t need a friend
We got ears that we each�ll lend each other, my brother just hollered at me again
He said he tired of all the lyin, deceivin and
dick-ridin the people providin on every beat but when
I do it it�s stupid, I bruise it like a bad bitch
I lose it, my music�s a movement and they just mad stiff
I told �em it�s mathematical in this pad lift
Point �em out and I will subtract him, with an ad lib
See the fact is (what) I�m a bastard
How can I not be (Macho, Man)? I�m a (Savage)
In the past I was passive, now I�m mad bitch
I�m spazzin, you get an Adidas classic where yo� ass is
[Royce Da 5'9"]
Eh-eh, eh-eh, Nickel ain�t the one at all
Snatch your vocal chords out then plug �em in my wall
You a knife at a gun fight, our shit is raw
You a square, you�re silverware in a civil war
The Slaughterhouse wolf pack, riders under the moon
The reason you itchin wit�cha lighter under your spoon
I�m a lover, the lead bustin is old to me
You put your head in her butt, I headbutt the ovaries
God dipped me in war paint for all weathers
I�m Mr. spill the liquor on my alcohol tether
No need to ride with nobody, I feel the heat can help me
Your jean�s skinnier than Em is when he eatin healthy, hahaha
[Chorus]
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, Shaaady!
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA
{�Mr. Porter-r-r-r-r��}
[Joe Budden]
Outnumbered, outspoken, outcasted
Outweighed outrageous odds and outlasted
Outlandish, so I learned to outwit �em
I outsmart �em, outgrew �em, I outdid �em
Cream, out-bid �em, team can�t out-spit him
(You could) Keep sleepin, your wet dream is out with him
(See) Do a lil� yoga, a lil� kama sutra
Steakhouse nigga, used to be a Ramen Noodler
Heavy on B and E�s, was a calm intruder
Pumped a Ruger, moms called me con and loser
I suggest you and your mans�ll regroup (why?)
Bet against it, and probably can�t recoup � out!
[Crooked I]
I point a pistol at your mamma mia
I�m sick as Tyson in the ring at the Colosseum with gonorrhea
Fuck a rapper, my clapper black as Muhammadiya
Fuck you R&B bitches, shut up! You not Aaliyah
(Ha ha!) When Mr. Porter record a piano
Producers may wanna order some ammo
I�m a California corner reporter
Your boy wasn�t born with a quarter bein poor as a whore and I�m an aura
It�s sorta Soprano; look here
We reinvent the wheel to have a (Good Year) � and y�all tired
We like Tyler Perry mixed with Everlast
The House of Payne/Pain, Slaughterhouse gang nigga!
[Chorus]
As long as I got my pen I don�t need a friend
We got ears that we each�ll lend each other, my brother just hollered at me again
He said he tired of all the lyin, deceivin and
dick-ridin the people providin on every beat but when
I do it it�s stupid, I bruise it like a bad bitch
I lose it, my music�s a movement and they just mad stiff
I told �em it�s mathematical in this pad lift
Point �em out and I will subtract him, with an ad lib
See the fact is (what) I�m a bastard
How can I not be (Macho, Man)? I�m a (Savage)
In the past I was passive, now I�m mad bitch
I�m spazzin, you get an Adidas classic where yo� ass is
[Royce Da 5'9"]
Eh-eh, eh-eh, Nickel ain�t the one at all
Snatch your vocal chords out then plug �em in my wall
You a knife at a gun fight, our shit is raw
You a square, you�re silverware in a civil war
The Slaughterhouse wolf pack, riders under the moon
The reason you itchin wit�cha lighter under your spoon
I�m a lover, the lead bustin is old to me
You put your head in her butt, I headbutt the ovaries
God dipped me in war paint for all weathers
I�m Mr. spill the liquor on my alcohol tether
No need to ride with nobody, I feel the heat can help me
Your jean�s skinnier than Em is when he eatin healthy, hahaha
[Chorus]
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, Shaaady!
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA
WHOA, WHOA, WHOA, WHOA
{�Mr. Porter-r-r-r-r��}
[Joe Budden]
Outnumbered, outspoken, outcasted
Outweighed outrageous odds and outlasted
Outlandish, so I learned to outwit �em
I outsmart �em, outgrew �em, I outdid �em
Cream, out-bid �em, team can�t out-spit him
(You could) Keep sleepin, your wet dream is out with him
(See) Do a lil� yoga, a lil� kama sutra
Steakhouse nigga, used to be a Ramen Noodler
Heavy on B and E�s, was a calm intruder
Pumped a Ruger, moms called me con and loser
I suggest you and your mans�ll regroup (why?)
Bet against it, and probably can�t recoup � out!
[Crooked I]
I point a pistol at your mamma mia
I�m sick as Tyson in the ring at the Colosseum with gonorrhea
Fuck a rapper, my clapper black as Muhammadiya
Fuck you R&B bitches, shut up! You not Aaliyah
(Ha ha!) When Mr. Porter record a piano
Producers may wanna order some ammo
I�m a California corner reporter
Your boy wasn�t born with a quarter bein poor as a whore and I�m an aura
It�s sorta Soprano; look here
We reinvent the wheel to have a (Good Year) � and y�all tired
We like Tyler Perry mixed with Everlast
The House of Payne/Pain, Slaughterhouse gang nigga!
[Chorus]