Joe Budden - Party lyrics

[Intro: Crooked I & Royce Da 5'9"] What the f** you talking 'bout? (You ain't in my lane, n***a) This is Slaughterhouse (Me and you ain't the same, n***a) [Verse 1: Crooked I] Why you think your b**h on my dick? Cause I'm a paid n***a Made n***a deep in her p**y like a grave digga I'm so high that I can chill on the roof Pop an Oxycontin pill in the booth, give 'em the truth Tell the world them lyrical k**ers still on the loose If I make the crowd bounce my n***a Eminem'll recoup That's why the rhymes Crooked I spit is making a mosh pit Fly sh**, sicker than hospice, takin' 'em hostage Yeah, we don't party like you n***as do We don't party like them n***as do 4 a.m. 20 groupies on the tour bus On a coke high, waitin' to f** the 4 of us Nah, we don't party like you n***as do Nah, we don't party like you n***as do Put some blue dolphins off in a rocket I'm 'bout to blast off, now I'm feelin' proper We don't party like you n***as do We don't party like you n***as do [Bridge: Royce Da 5'9"] Wadadadang wadadadadang (blao) (x2) [Verse 2: Royce Da 5'9] f** you nerds doing everything cause Jay Z done said it f** you and your new urge to be a fake sneaker head f** you and your ball game floor seats If you just there with a broad, neither one of y'all ain't scorekeep 'Prolly thought LeBron was a cornerback Heat game, wearing Grape 5's and a Hornets hat f** you and your leather jerseys and hairy arms n***as bald then they get big headed like Barry Bonds f** you and the crowd you perform in front of Like you was born a stunna, your money reformed a runner Your Instagram got b**hes saying "I heard he's rich" So you just f**ed your first bad b**h at 36 That's what I call fake felt, never saw a weight scale Shirt tucked in in front, showin' off your H belt This one of them moments where your money ain't the issue I can call you corny cause corny n***as get rich too Still a s**er, corny n***as get rich too We don't party like you n***as do [Bridge: Royce Da 5'9"] [Verse 3: Joell Ortiz] Man f** you f**boys, you boys f**in' with the wrong one f** your fake high, don't give a f** if you're on one f** that broad you're f**in', that p**y prolly smell cray f**, you ain't a G, who give a f** what your belt say? f** you and your section and your bottles and your sparklers And your shades that look like night vision goggles, f** you Knock off, enough with all the narcotics you knock off The hood jump off the only time you get your rocks off Snapple fact you never pop off, your block's soft Man I'll knock everybody on your block's block off You fake gat clapper, mad actor I'm backwards, watch how this pump give you mad asthma Put your punk story in it's last chapter I f**ed the pumps off a diva, you a Kat Stack'r No party's like a house party, yeah You know a shorty's sleepin' on that couch, prolly dead That's what we get into, why even knock? You'll never get into A house party, we don't party like you n***as do [Bridge: Royce Da 5'9"] [Verse 4: Joe Budden] I know a couple new n***as tried to start this Lemme help you out dawg, trickin' is still trickin' regardless We not in the same, you funny to us I use my mouth for my G, you need your money to f** You do a lot of that talkin', I'm done when I bust Take community p**y and be the dummy to cuff It's like everything you do with the opposite s** Is the opposite of correct, we ain't gotta give you respect So whoever raised you ain't practiced for real Type to buy a b**h a phone, be all checkin' the bill I've seen your type, corndog, wack as a f** Type to pa** your man a ho, then get mad when he f** Like you do all the sh** that a real n***a don't All that sh** that a real n***a won't Since I don't know if this s**a sh** is contagious You the n***a we see and run No you ain't getting no b**hes, you busy being one And one last thing for the record 'fore I get out of here We don't party like you n***as do