Back to the previous page

Artist: Slaughterhouse & DJ Drama f/ SLV
Album:  On the House
Song:   Who I Am
Typed by: 

[Crooked I] House Gang, woo! House Gang
[J. Budden] House Gang
[Crooked I] House Gang
[J. Budden] House Gang, tah
	      And y'all know how we ride, you heard?
	      In that, S-L playin SLV
[DJ Drama] "On the House", get 'em!
[J. Budden] Talk that talk to 'em

[Crooked I]
Uh, guess who's back turnin the track into mince meat
for diabetics with diarrhea thinkin shit's sweet
A thug MC - even though I'm all about money
I found time to +Throw it Away+ with Swizz Beatz
House Gang, hardest fools 'round
Don Juan's up, garden tools down
Black Rolls Royce ridin up the coast
Niggaz left me for dead, I came back in that Ghost
The resurrection, can't spell sex without the letter X
so this is a letter to every ex I'm sexin
I get the best oral, no question
Pectoral shit, we out chea flexin
Yeah, that's the Slaughterhouse team
Lookin down on ballers as if we tall as Yao Ming
Fly is what we are without wings
Like scientists studyin the environment, we all about green

[Chorus: SLV]
I fuck any girl that I want
Vallet keep my car in front
Told me I wouldn't go far
From a nobody to a star
If that's what you take of me
You do it mistakingly
I'm still here amazingly
Every day I thank God for making me who I am

[Joe Budden]
These raps from a smoker's lungs
Climb the ladder to success, get the broken rungs
See I'm now never guessin, was a token bum
Mailbox full of subpoenas, I might open one
Guess the cops didn't learn that these warrants don't phase him
Live in my mind, how could bars ever cage him?
Give me a break, I'm a law abidin citizen
that'll kill his cellmate if enough is at, stake
Some say that I'm mean
Nah they got it fucked up, I just say what I mean
It was never 'bout money, I was chasin a dream
And now I'm proof that rage can beat the machine
I'd take bein the sickest way over bein the richest
If you focus on me I ain't doin half bad
Right hand in the air as Joe I solemnly swear
that the joke was on me but I got the last laugh


[Joell Ortiz]
My real name my rap shit
No bed frame, just a mattress
Tryna light the stove lookin for a book of matches
Listenin to Hov' instrumentals gettin practice flickin 'dro ashes
In a ziplock from an old package
Niggaz better be lucky that I'm so passive
I'ma blow pass it like a coke habit
You afraid of me, the Euphrates River flow massive
I sit and raid a fitted over Beau Jacksons
Jeans horseshoe under the horse polo relaxin
With a horse shotgun and a Porsche
Lettin the horses brag, you be goin hoarse tryna call a cab
I'm everywhere with the New Yorker swag
Got me a Cancer in Massachusetts I be throwin in the +Boston Crab+
Here's a toast to the street
Where they eat your food down to the bon appetit so don't turn your cheek
Ha, my real name my rap shit
The Messiah of real rap shit
Nod your head, make a face like you sittin on the toilet
and it's real hard to crap shit, yeah I make that shit
Put it gat clappers on a sober night
Who opens soda to the right? You know, switch your cap backward
I wrote a track with a Tec in my Jansport
So who the fuck said I don't do this for the backpackers? (c'mon)
One hit of my piff and you cough
If I got pot, top notch at the minimum cost
Do me a favor, take your little nicks and get lost
The only time you get to pee is when I'm pissin you off
I name ring in the borough
E'rybody'll tell you the same thing, I'm thorough
And I could still chill in the field where they kill cause I'm real
Never ran, never will~!

I'll fuck any girl I want!