Slaughterhouse - F5 (Furiously Dangerous) lyrics

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Slaughterhouse - F5 (Furiously Dangerous) lyrics

[Refrain: Claret Jai] We're so furiously dangerous [Verse 1: Ludacris] d**h by lyrical injection, I k** you rappers A lotta green with a yellow complexion Women call me the Green Bay Packer I pack the zero's, meaning mucho dinero So paid, rappers is waitin' on trades And they all gettin' Knicked like Melo Hello, Luda Tell theses other boys double up Cause I got some work all on my waste but I call it a tummy tuck My every records jumpin', or playin' double dutch I sh** on rappers every verse just got the bubble guts [Verse 2: Joe Budden] Let me tell this to the people not understandin' my moxy Animal, watch me if you think it's tangible, stop me But then I hit 'em with a flow that they can't even copy See we don't play that where I'm from it's like fantasy hockey Sup with the dog, thugs want a war Bad GM, what you want to trade slugs with him for While you cuffin 'em all, I'm stuffin' her jaw Then leave 'em for you to rebound Kevin Love on the boards Dog, you and your sk** retard hard from of our squad I'll put you on a crash course in a Smartcar While I'm speedin' not relyin' on the brake pad In a car that you should only drive on a race track So the lines about your phantoms and your Maybach Are ghost tales of the phantom, face facts You ruined hip-hop Slaughterhouse will payback Get in shape and a tatt We done faded to black [Refrain] [Verse 3: Royce da 5'9"] I went from eatin' Top Ramen to bein' Top Rhymer, check full of commas No regrets except for the drama I remember a time when my only perfection was my momma My mind a long erection Now it's time you bow down and erect a monu-ment in my honor Cause b**h I'm bonker, plural In the whip with my Ivanka, pompous girls She on E, feelin' on me, singin' on-key While I'm bumpin', We Are the World Got her sniffin' Britney, no he didn't did he We run this town No he isn't Diddy I feel like tiltlin' the gla** She take a sip with me She from the city of Jackson Call her Mississippi That was pretty witty Your man like a Black man tryna get re-elected He ain't gettin' diddley [Verse 4: Joell Ortiz] Stickin' it to the pedal, pedal to the floor Just whippin' it through the ghetto Metal in the door In case I gotta throw some lead into ya, boy Referee mind state, I'm settlin' the score I don't know what ya'll hatin' for Wait, wait, know what, matter fact I don't know what you're waitin' for I ain't finna say nothin' Turn the ba** up more til the speakers pop I get a kick outta that, like a sneaker spot See I was a little kid with his thumbs in his ears And his tongue in the air going na-na-na-nah-naaar Just when you think it stop na-na-na-nah-naaar Everything I speak is hot Don't be mad at least everything you speak is I can't think of nothing nice to say, you're not nice okay [Verse 5: Crooked I] Rapper, hustler, entrepreneur My sh** fly like I'm launchin' manure Lord of the underground, God of the sewer On Hennessy Black, on Con-to-the-jure Yeah, I'm off the block This ain't work, homie I'm off the clock I'm a syllable Hannibal k**er A cannibal with a mechanical mandible to deliver the flammable Ammo, lyrical animal off the top Rep that West til I walk with Pac We the 2.0 Boys, Tiz, Crook and Joe, Royce New Ghost Rolls Royce pulled off the lot Pop me the only way you could stop me I'm top seed, I clock green at mach speed So watch me if you haven't seen a phenomenon Spit fast as Lamborghini's and Ramadan [Refrain] [Outro: Claret Jai] I suggest you shut down Pack your 'ish and turn around Because tonight we run this town So let your feet swiftly hit the ground We too dangerous for the world

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