Slaughterhouse - I Ain't Bullsh**tin' lyrics

[Hook] I ain't made it this far f**in' round stankin' a** b**hes 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 bullsh**tin' I ain't made this much money doin' bad business Or listenin' to stupid a**, goofy a** n***as So I ain't bout to start right now Said I ain't bout to start right now, I ain't bullsh**tin' [Verse 1 : Royce Da 5'9"] Never hesitate to up-and-touch your foes jaw Bullet proof vest on f**in' hoe's raw Only fear I have is being a has-been Only thing I care about is just who's been laughin' Dig a hole, make a box for soon as this craft ends Or just put my a** in rehab with Charlie Sheen, three tabs And some Jin for you to get mad and then We gon' sniff enough blow in here to k** two and half men n***as think I came up fast in this game laughin' at lames With a map of an immaculate pa**ageway 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 you That's when I tell you b**h to do it for this vine She ain't gon' never say to me, she ain't gon' do it Toast to long journeys, I ride separate, only problem that I have With the big motherf**er's a wide stretcher, in long gurney Then you're gon' see a murder case deflate When my attorneys apply pressure [Verse 2 : Joell Ortiz] And pressure bust pipes but I bet ya' This pipe gon' bust a motherf**er head If ever I catch a wild disrespecter Behind the scenes after playin' the side lines 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 hop scotch or hot twat I'm hot [Hook] [Bridge] Why in the f** would I listen to haters? Knowing damn well let 'em f** with my paper 'til I die, I only listen to Crooked I [Verse 3 : Crooked I] I ain't bullsh**tin' I keep it raw n***as rhymes diluted Prostitutin' for the label n***a your mind's polluted Go ahead try and dispute it They buildin' an army full of n***as willin' to sell their soul and they a**hole That's the kind recruited, a s**er born every second time's computed Just grab a nine and shoot it 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' bout b**hes givin' brain in a coupe I know, but I'm ill a G, like Matrix I'm a trilogy Not three movies I mean something that Pimp C would say, a trill-a-G And I'm sicker than mixin' liquor with Henney-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 key is 23 I'm the biggest thug of them all with a street poetry I leave blood on the wall so the streets know it's me Crooked I, last rapper that won't compromise Real n***a, they probably want me ostracised I'm the n***a 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 n***a that dramatized No need to apologize, put your sorries in your big pocket Make up a dance to have a chance n***a, I rather Big Pac it I'd rather Pun L it, I'd rather Beans Jay it, I rather Em Nas it I don't listen to you goofy n***as take on it That's why the beemer got the temporary plates on it That's why XXL got your n***a's face on it It's 97 Bad Boy, this my Mase moment (Amen)