Loud Noises

[Intro: Brick Tamland] LOUD NOISES!!!! [Verse 1: Eminem] Life handed me lemons, I jumped back in the public eye And squirted lemon juice in it by now you just wish I’d fuckin' die But I electrify, get electrocuted, executed by the execution Of my flow too quick for the human eye to detect zoomin' by (Choom chigga choom choom choom choom waa) Guess who, what’s happenin' guy? They told me to shit, I fell off that pot hopped right back on that crapper and I Said fuck it with a capital I, look who’s back to antag-g-onize You don’t like it? you can eat shit, fuck off little faggot and die You right back like a magnet on my dick grabbin' at my Shit better get to the back of the line, If you wanna get your shot at me what kinda crap is that battle What kind of rapper would I be fore I let another rapper think he’s hot I’ll bury my face in a stinky twat and go... Girl my head, space is limited, so I ain’t even room in the back of my mind That’s why I ain’t thinking about you, I don’t got time I done told you a thousand times So how can I find the time to put an alkaline battery in Royce's back And at the same time put juice in mine? Goddammit Slaughterhouse is signed! [Crooked I] SLAUGHTERHOUSE! [Verse 2: Crooked I] I’m a menace villain, my pen is sick and spilling, my lyrics killing Then I let you witness shit when it hit the ceiling A niggas willing to give the listeners the sickest feeling Like mixing some Benadryl and penicillin then I’m filling the clip With a written, can you picture my pistol drilling A million women and children when I’m illing but it isn’t real, it’s a rap On the real, it’s a wrap, how could you possibly stop the Apocalypse When I’m atomic bombing the populous Shock the metropolis hostile as a kid popping the Glock at his moms And his pops then he hops in his drop with his iPod rocking his slaughterish Documentation of lyrics I write with confidence Write like a columnist slash novelist I’m in this game to demolish it, establish my dominance Over prominent rappers you popping shit to ya opposite I can spit ominous so spit politics Now I’m Haile Selassie, Gandhi and Pac of this hip hop genre, bitch! [Crooked I] SLAUGHTERHOUSE! [Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"] Lyrically I’m a cocaine Altoid Ability so brain it’s a no brain bow boy (fresh) Physically. I’m literally a cocaine cowboy Wait-wait, did I just go almost four bars without talking about my big dick? The other day me and your thick bitch had a great date and we ate cake And then we walked and then she tried to jack me off but she lost Cause she couldn’t handle my Shake Weight, I swear, the irony of Ryan is I am Bipolar while I’m rhyming standing beside a big ole white bear Neither one of us fight fair, you are literally looking at Woody and Wesley In a movie where the white boy ain’t got to jump nowhere cause I’m here Nigga I’m on fire, yeah and I’m every bitch’s dream One, two I’m coming for you, I’m a big ole nightmare Nigga, this the slaughter, step it up I’ll pretty much slap your ass and tell you to shut the fuck up After that, I’ll slap your ass again and tell you to shut the fuck up shutting up And that’s how you body a fucking beat (Goodbye) [Crooked I] SLAUGHTERHOUSE! [Verse 4: Joell Ortiz] I should be the one that goes slow Nah, get a stopwatch, clock my flow, hit the button on top Watch your jaw drop, 00:00 (oh oh dot dot oh) Yaowa When I drop I go outer space Blackout like Darth Vader’s face, placed in a molten shower Say something and get done proper, mama poppa pouring out vodka Mama mia Em pass me the scissors there’s visitors In the Slaughterhouse casa Better jet boy go home, better jet boy G4 Chrome Better jet boy, Mark Sanchez, Santanio Holmes I’m not your any old homeboy Just sitting in the lab picking up a pad, I be spitting bad I'mma get you mad with this gift I have little ducks Sufferin succotash when the trigger blast I’ma put your beak on your fitted hat Where the liquor at? Sip a yac bad bitch and a vicious track I relididax slide pro-tools to both so smooth I coast to the West Like where Crooked living at? New York, here’s a piggy back ride to the motherland, hold on brother man On the other hand, get down, I’m gutter fam Gun butt you with the Eagle handle Cunningham I don’t wanna talk, I just wanna beef, I don’t want a piece I want it all baby boy I don’t wanna eat, I wanna feast Stuff my cheeks with rough beats and shit You done, weak, I’m the one, capisce? [Verse 5: Joe Budden] Insane what they call us, how you married to the game But you probably shouldn’t of came to the alter? Every bar like propane for the sawed-off you shoulda hang and they'll fault ya Eminem, Mr. Porter, slaughter my sentiments, eminent torture All of you feminine marauders, they're swimming that water, men will assault ya Tommy's and bats to resemble Lasorda Kidnap your trembling daughter At least a quarter of my I’ma menacing supporter It's got an aura more like Sodom and Gomorrah Normally something’s wrong with me Blame it on quantity of the porn I see on the pawns to me When I fix the game y’all think shit came with a warranty How the fuck are they gonna stop what I was born to be? Corner me shit belong to me Two choices, you can get along with me Or sit your faggot ass right there in dormancy Wait, all he missing is heels to be RuPaul Ain’t nobody that’s real ever knew y’all And I’m second to none and I’m dealing with bums Whose time never comes, now deal with the blue balls You ain’t gotta fear me but you respect me niggas who never met me Threaten me, want to Gillette me, coming to a sword fight against a machete Swinging spaghetti like it’s heavy Some said he deserve an ESPY in a Chevy like Andretti Put the desi where his chest be [Crooked I] SLAUGHTERHOUSE!