Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Microphone, artist - Slaughterhouse. Date of issue: 10.08.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Microphone |
| Yeah, yeah… |
| Too many Indians and no chiefs |
| I pull out the pistol when I pull no piece |
| I’m the blueprint — I have your clothes |
| lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints |
| When I bless a joint — it’s like Spock |
| came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point |
| I got the voc' in touch |
| I tell my bitch I’ma, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up |
| Too many enemies and no killers |
| Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers |
| I get stacks (stacks) |
| I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap |
| I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope |
| Y’all gotta wait for the transporter to get back |
| So who’s the illest — what you talkin 'bout? |
| (Die Hard) like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it |
| Too many hood guys, not enough good guys |
| The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-i |
| I don’t be fuckin around on that microphone |
| When I’m kickin them flows on that microphone |
| The illest nigga that’s holdin that microphone |
| I put my heart and my soul in that microphone |
| I put it down on that (microphone) |
| Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone |
| But turn it down if you weak on that microphone |
| Lame niggaz shouldn’t speak on that microphone |
| My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone |
| That’s on my momma, I was born with a microphone |
| Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone |
| Like James Brown I’ma DIE on the microphone |
| Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone |
| They on the same bullshit that Mike was on |
| You’re lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard |
| I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!) |
| You’re verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve |
| I lift your skirt like a young perv — knock 'em out! |
| We the mob, homie who need a job? |
| Plus I’m so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob |
| Too many in this industry I need to rob |
| And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob! |
| Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest |
| Listen this hear me spittin think it’s a pissing contest |
| I’m in it for power, if cowards try to stop me |
| they better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness |
| Yes! |
| I got a barrel that’ll spot wussies |
| If you are what you eat, how come I’m not pussy? |
| You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone |
| I’m educated but I’m dumb on that microphone |
| Don’t even bother, you’ll be done on that microphone |
| I turn a father to a son on that microphone |
| I’m a revolver in the slum on that microphone |
| And tell his R’s I don’t need no microphone |
| Too many critics tend to be silly |
| Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies |
| I get it poppin like a ineen milli |
| Now I’m havin a whale of a good time, I’m a (Free Willy) |
| Y’all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really |
| Fans, who their man, I’m they quick pick easily |
| None of you kids spit evenly |
| You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me |
| Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame |
| Too many claimin insanity and they so sane |
| Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game |
| Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine |
| Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name |
| In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses |
| Too many monkey see, monkey doers |
| I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster |
| Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone |
| Y’all don’t know where to begin on that microphone |
| I don’t see how y’all could win on that microphone |
| A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone |
| Decide who you wan' be on that microphone |
| I see a bunch of lil' me’s, micro clones |
| Too many 20 milligram Vic’s I’m on |
| Killed the web, it don’t matter what site you on |
| Save his mouth 'fore he’s runnin off |
| I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across |
| All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft |
| Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off |
| Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap |
| They mic got Alzheimer’s, forgot that they was dope |
| Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet |
| Too many blueprints, not enough architects |
| Rhyme ain’t started yet, still every bar’s a mess |
| FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best |
| I’m the last muh’fucker that y’all should test |
| I’m the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next |
| Too many frontin like y’all that fly |
| REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL) |
| I don’t be fuckin around on that microphone |
| You lame niggaz shouldn’t speak on that microphone |
| You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone |
| Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone |
| «The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone» |