Artist Name: # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Song Title: # A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

Slaughterhouse - I Ain't Bullshittin Lyrics

{"You are now listening to araabMUZIK"}

[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"]
I ain't made it this far fuckin 'round with stankin ass bitches
See I ain't made it this far slippin
So I ain't 'bout to start right now
Said I ain't 'bout to start right now, I ain't bullshittin
I ain't make this much money doin bad business
Or listenin to stupid ass, goofy ass niggaz
So I ain't 'bout to start right now
Said I ain't 'bout to start right now, I ain't bullshittin

[Royce Da 5'9"]
Never hesitate to up-and-touch your foes jaw
Bullet-proof vest on fuckin hoes raw
Only fear I have is bein a has-been
Only thing I care about is just who has been laughin
Dig a hole, make a box for as soon as this craft ends
Or just put my ass in rehab with Charlie Sheen, three tabs and some gin
For you to get maddened in
We gon' sniff enough blow in here to kill +Two and a Half Men+
Niggaz think I came off fast in this game laughin at lames
with a map of an immaculate passageway to spectacular fame
That's how they do you every time, they think you're fake, you ain't the truest
Until you make the papers then they sue ya
That's when I tell your bitch to "Do it for this Vine"
She ain't gon' never say to me she "ain't gon' do it"
Toast along journeys, I ride separate
Only problem that I have with the big motherfucker's a wide stretcher
and long gurney, then you're gon' see
a murder case deflate when my attorneys apply pressure

[Joell Ortiz]
And pressure bust pipes, but I'll betcha
this pipe gon' bust a motherfucker head if ever I catch up
Wild disrespecter, behind the scenes after playin the sidelines dressed up
in thug attire when they soft as a signal when that Wi-Fi messed up
This a hot spot
Yeah right, hater play hopscotch or hot twat
I'm hot!


[Crooked I]
Why in the fuck would I listen to haters
knowin damn well they done fucked with my paper?
'Til I die-ie-ie
I only listen to Crooked I-I-I
I ain't bullshittin, I keep it raw, niggaz rhymes deluded
Prostitutin for the label, nigga your mind's polluted
Go 'head, try and dispute it
They buildin an army full of niggaz willin to sell they soul and they asshole, that's the kind recruited
A sucker born every second time's computed
Just grab a nine and shoot it! (AHH!)
Hyper-feminine rapper claim your troops
Let you lynch me in the orchard before I hang with fruit
Unless they of Islam, I'm just sayin the truth
Rather hear me rappin about bitches givin brain in a coupe
I know, but I'm iller G, like make it some a trilogy
Not three movies, I mean somethin that Pimp C
would say, a triller-G
And I'm sicker than mixin liquor with Henny-cillin
I'm chillin in my coupe with no roof and I could see the moon shinin, like whiskey in Tennessee
No Jordan, but a brick or ki' is 23!
I'm the biggest thug of 'em all with the street poetry
I leave blood on the wall so the streets know it's me (Crooked!)
Crooked I, last rapper that won't compromise
Real nigga, they probably want me ostracized (fuck 'em!)
I'm the nigga you can't colonize, not for dollar signs
I don't care if my profit rise, long as I prophesize
Long as I'm the non-fiction documentary and you the nigga that dramatized
No need to apologize
Put your sorries in your big pocket
Make up a dance to have a chance nigga, I'd rather Big 'Pac it
(Talk to 'em!) I'd rather Pun L it
I'd rather Beans Jay it, I'd rather Em Nas it
Uhh, I don't listen to you goofy niggaz take on it
That's why the Beemer got the temporary plates on it (yeah nigga!)
That's why XXL got your nigga's face on it
It's '97 Bad Boy, this my Ma$e moment (amen)

Slaughterhouse lyrics