Chopping Block-Royce da 5'9/Slaughterhouse

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9''] Rap niggas back on the chopping block Come out that house, back to yo mom and yo papa spot Back to the county, back to three hots in a hostel cot Come out the colossal rocks back to your fossil watch My life is foul sometimes I wish I could write this down To keep your wife from screaming out Jesus Christ she can bite the towel She receiving pipe from the nicest, my mic is Riker's Isle My mind deep as minin' for diamonds, I raise MacGyver brow I'm five minutes from perfect timing I'm like the price is down A highroller, Cairo'ed like I'm Chyna and Tyga child Mighta f**ked one of you silver medalists wifey but I can't fight you cause, you might adjust my Midas touch I can't believe I just sat back and told that lie I put this Tec back and give you a gold black eye, blaow If I give a ni**a a shiner consider the sh*t designer I slaughter militant rhymers, hold up My ni**a Nottz on the beat Somethin' sneakerheads usually leave in the box on the feet, hold up That's right, rappers back on the chopping block Either fact is a Papa Doc's, back to your proper spot We are not friends, we just connected dot to dot Stomp you till you feel like you living in Waka Flocka's sock I could box, that's why niggas opt to not Money wide in my pocket mocking that awesome rock [?] I philosophize, social stylist, them shits so timeless This should be fossilized Y'all just lie, y'all just falsify, y'all should be ostracized Y'all should not be allowed to run alongside my whip with the ostrich eye Come out your house without your pride A coward dies a thousand deaths, tells a thousand lies You see them lames? Tell 'em that I'm contracted A killer on a powder high, Game 7, Lebron clapping, I'll have your Spinal column out of your body right by you and your bodyguard looking like lasagna and cottage fries Retire or apologize, or die, you looking right in the fire Tryna be hot as me or tryna see eye to eye Obviously, honesty's not your policy [Verse 2: Joell Ortiz] I'm two seconds from smacking somebody face hard as hell And I know that he listening But the way shorty neck is positioning While she spitting in the hole of my dick Makes that other p**sy not worth it I put my foot in yo' a** with all my old verses Its like my sole purpose is giving my soul's purpose I don't start but I finish you with a earth nap E'rbody I turned into ashes, believe they earned that Skip rap, let's talk real people To this day I die laughing with niggas who really kill people Mask, gloves, and empties that would conceal diesel Black snub that empty until they seal-freeze you Dice game with the re-up In lobbies where they never mopped the pee up Turn that M.O.P. up Every night mom's praying that they ain't mopping me up I'm up top getting mop from Mia, mama mia Now as far as the bars varying, I'm barbarian He-Man, Hanna-Barbera action figure Arms stiffer than Shawn Marion when he ball-carrying Oh man, we in slaughter mode, Paul Rosenberg, pallbearers and Em Who'd be left if the social media era died? Sh*t, I blew checks before I was verified I know the Dre that did beef before the Dre that did beats Bloggers'll beat on my meat if Detox leak [Verse 3: KXNG CROOKED] Rap niggas back on the chopping block Kill 'em before they body rot I use they bodyparts to paint a Basquiat Really I'm saving you, your label's raping you Transforming your anus like an Autobot Assf**king a Cosmonaut You prolly like it but keeping it lowkey, bottom lock You hit rock bottom and go get your bottom rocked I'm just tryna stop you like my father was tryna stop me Then his condom popped Crooked was born to defeat the odds a lot I really don't understand why these imposters are popular I'm confused like seeing my Jewish homie rocking a swastika During Hanukkah 'stead of rocking his Yamaka While Stevie Wonder gawking at Rihanna's exotic, erotic body through the wrong side of some top dollar binoculars It's obvious, somebody gotta be mocking us None given, I'm out of f**ks, uh I been on another level since I came into the industry Still the illest spitting, getting rid of powder puffs You coward are out of luck, you Howards know how to duck 40 caliber loud as f**k, for now it's tucked What? Rap niggas back on the chopping block Give this b**ch the biz, Markie, I beatbox a lot She just want a confidant, her man want a problem? Stop His days'll be numbered like a calendar, that's the caveat Any given Thursday you gon' get with the church play Holy organs, I mean it in the worst way With the llama I'm a farmer, I'm outstanding in my field My skill is a dead giveaway if you will, now that's wordplay I'm from the era of gang culture and crack smoke I rap d**e 'cause that was an escape for poor black folk 2Pac told us all America eats is babies Since I been in a Mercedes my ladies relate to that quote Upset, veins popping out of her neck, she give me mad throat She a head doctor minus the lab coat And when it come to being an incredible spitter, my ni**a I'm Eminem's negative picture, black GOAT I'm nice, cuz [Verse 4: Joe Budden] Yeah, rap niggas back on the chopping block Same goal when niggas was bumping Scott LaRock Same goal though niggas swear you shocking, jock Screaming "What's popping Ak'?" Red bean, cocking shots With that said, no proceeding, gimme lethal And it could be onsight before a ni**a even see you That's ride by, dash off and we laugh I changed up for the future, my mask was off in the past I heard your album, all sound like filler to me That's why I'm asking how they iller than me? It's getting hot, you can feel the degrees I been as real as could be Different me, same song, Bryson Tiller agrees Who you know is an uncharted team parted with lean And hit parks and bargain a dream and step to the Carter regime And wash Carhartt jeans, hard as it seem Was all part of going bored to some bars to barking Beg for your pardoning, your bothersome bar schemes Matter fact, who the f**k you know is harder than him? Say the gang broke up, sh*t, it wasn't the gang F**k a verse, when it's family it just run in your veins Joey