Welcome to Detroit

This is the BET Shady 2.0 Cypher 2011

Myself, Slaughterhouse and Yelawolf

White dog (thank you cracker), get 'em

Let's get 'em, yeah

Put these motherfuckers in a box and I send 'em away

Put 'em in a gray 'Lac and pop the trunk

Hey, throw 'em in the back, jack, I dig 'em a grave

Put a brick inside that Xerox, when I print 'em a page

Moving ki's, I can't relate, 'cause I live in a cage

I throw up an A, I take 'em to school, I give 'em a grade

An easy E for effort, that's WWA

White with an attitude, alphabet soup is on my plate

All I got is Z's, they sleeping on me, I can't get 'em awake

I spoon feed 'em a sound in a room full of deceivers and clowns

Who believe they making it rain 'cause all they see is the clouds

And I watch from the couch of the VIP like a potato

With a bunch of meatheads, like, f*ck it, I just feed 'em a cow

Plenty of white boys to pick from this year

But before you pick a pepper, you better pick up your heater

'Cause even Peter Piper could pick up a mic

But what it's like to pick a fight with me

It's like puttin' Nikes on a cheetah, better speed up

Or at least in my case, Adidas

I'm out this bitch, drinkin' Sprite by the 2 liter

Holler, Shady Records (uh)

Now I need the scratch to get me amped, man

(Ayo, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait) I'm 'bout to get 'em

I'm 'bout to get 'em, I'm 'bout to get 'em (wait, wait)

I'm 'bout to get 'em (okay)

Yo, say I'm from the new school

I'ma say, "Check your tone and watch your mouth"

If they teachin' how to dougie, I'm condoning droppin' out

Forced to wile, y'all birthed me and gave me up

I just perfected being hip-hops foster child, now check it

Don't blame y'all for being trash fans and copping it

The radio's the crime scene, the masses are the hostages

In my youth, I'd throw shots, the fam was dodging it

I'm grown, I ain't watchin' the throne, I'm sabotaging it

You see that four-headed monster and the storm looms

Snipe 'em from a distance, the scope got a long zoom

You Super Mario thugs is in the wrong room

Got a figure here, you won't get bigger if you on shrooms

Was left to me, I'd revive what the game be 'bout

I'd have took the wine outta Amy house

Enough raps from you scrub cats 'bout cocking a snub back

Wayne couldn't teach me how to love that

But I got this chick from uptown, she my summer bunny

Both parents broke but she comes from money

Think my bread is her paper to burn

So I lock her out and now she doubt David is Stern

She so bad, I make her hit the telly from a taxi

Then dead her in the Holiday Inn, learnt that from Max B

That's why the haters of every kind wanna send me llamas

I made it right before they eyes like I was Benihanas

Is it me or is what I'm hearing just pitiful?

Airwaves the same, now the stereo's typical

My skin thick so the critics ignored

So unafraid to die, you think I did it before

The boy's Rodman with the trash talk

Magical walk with the black ball, way I bounce off the asphalt

With cat paws, glass jaw

Hoody and mask would be the black folk with no passport

Body be found in the mansion in one of my trap doors

If punks had awards, you status whores category

Probably be that of a war 'tween Michael Rappaport and Kenny Lattimore

I know hip-hop's alive and well

If it died, you other crews wouldn't survive the smell

Ladies and gentlemen (you're scared now)

Make that face at 'em, dawg

Crooked up, get 'em

I spot a victim

The plot'll thicken when the clock is tickin'

I caught 'em slippin'

I gotta give 'em a shot, I hit 'em with proper spittin'

Hottest writtens and compositions

So competition's a contradiction

Did somebody mention they got a Crooked?

Highly fiction, we probably different, got Gotti henchmen

Opposition, our body quick as Bugatti engines

I'm on a mission to get richer

The sickest lyric kicker

Diggin' a ditch for different spitters

Weak lyricists get disfigured

Sip liquor, spit like a sick mixture of Notorious, Pun, and L

Get the big picture

The poster, I'll roast ya'

My mind so deadly, it's just like the beanie is close to a holster

It's over, control my whole coastal region like I'm supposed to

Flow is goin' postal even, open season

Heart close to freezin', ruthless is easy, n***a

Approach, I'm squeezing, believe me

Dopest West coaster breathing

So most y'all hope I'm vegan

No pun, beefing

Rappers need to keep it trill

Give me a beat to kill

Too many people still eating sleeping pills

People sleeping on my ether skills

And y'all ain't even real

You 'bout to die in this cypher

Before you die, you should do the Jada and leave a Will

For real (uh, uh)

Yaooowa (yo)

I ain't a rap dude, I'm a dude who rap

Before this, I was movin' crack

Them killers y'all become when y'all rhyme, I salute and dap

And if I blink, then remove your snaps

You ain't cool, you whack

Wit' your foolish yack

Skinny jeans don't mean your ass shoot, it means your booty claps

Don't play like Tyler Perry, this the Slaughterhouse of pain

Flow brown, tight and heavy

When it comes to 16's, I'm a fiend, fiending a studio

Near a needle with a mean lean

Probably writin' bars to Nas' "Thief Theme"

Gettin' my Yaowa on, may all these Olajuwon's be the dream team

This is an all-day slaughter

They fiendin' for us to break like Beyonce's water

The four quarters doin' all the eating

And y'all gotta know why I made the cut, I'm Puerto Rican

Ortiz keep the fire ready

And tryna put me out's like tryna steal a transvestite from Eddie

Alright, ay yo (yeah Joe?)

Alright go ahead an' rap

Yeah (beautiful miracles)

I'm do or die dope

And you can make the sticker sittin' on the door

Of that Phantom your suicide note

Hi, Rihanna, is Nicki living wit' you? Let me know

So I can buy binoculars and telescopes

Hi, Rihanna, I don't need to know you better

You tell me you love my music again, we go together

Bye, Rihanna, now back to y'all fools

We rock out like the outside of a guitar school

Thousand dollar frames I prefer to see the world through

Don't ask me nothin' 'bout Budden, I beat my girl too

You ask me why do I keep her? I say "It's cheaper to"

That's why I ride around in a Rolls like Wiz Khalifa do

Rappers, I'm your daddy, I tell you straight as this

You don't kill but your father Will like Jaden Smith

I tell you like I tell my Spanish chick

You fly but I ain't goin' down on no landing strip

So get your wax on like Daniel-son

Or I'ma have to run like De La Hoya in drag when cameras come

Point out the greatest rapper alive, I headshot 'em

Smack his girl on the butt and buy her some red bottoms

Bring every deceased rapper back to see his wife

While I'm cyber sexing with Jessica Alba, via Skype

I'm on my d-boy, d-bo thing

Spiritual steelo swing like Cee-Lo Green

Get out the camera with your B Roll bling, you know your flow is whack

We cornered the market like a Wal-Mart in a cul-de-sac

Yeah, this what 2,000,000 singles sold and an album that's gold look like

Without having to sell your soul, Nickle

Oh, wait (Shady)

Wait, go 'head (you better get 'em too)

Go 'head (you the boss, you better get 'em)

Wait, can I rap? (You the boss though, you better...)

Yeah, me rap? (You better represent)

Ayo, lyrical, miracle, spiritual individual, criminal, subliminal

In your swimming pool

Come on man, kick that, kick that s**t I wrote

Drop it

Kick the s**t I wrote that one time, like God bless ya

Yeah yeah yeah

You 'bout to see peace destroyed, it'll never be restored

When I unleash these beastly hoards on your CD stores

Wanna stop it? You gon' need a priest, at least three swords

A license to ill from the Beastie Boys, three Ouija boards

And a squeegee, and please be warned

Don't ask what the squeegees for

Or the holy water, acid rap that'll eat these floors

Eat a hole in a rhyme book, you see these horns?

And as for me, you ask when I'm gone "Will he be mourned?"

Is puke lukewarm? Should Casey Anthony do porn?

Can that chick fit a newborn dead baby inside a freakin' shoebox?

With a shoehorn, smothered in chloroform so she can go get her groove on?

Can she duct tape and Velcro a fetus? Joell, yo

Tell Joe I need his empty box from his old shell toe Adidas

So I can put these babies in the fetal position

They're gettin' elbows to the penis

Yeah, big deal, I took some little kid's big wheel

And spit in his freakin' big kid's meal

Quit tryna bite me and pinch, you wince, sit still

You just put your six inch heel through my Benz windshield?

Is it dust we 'bout to kick up?

Can Yelawolf fit a fifth of rum in a big cup?

Between a stick shift in his freakin' pick up

And drink like a hick, redneck, hillbilly will 'til he gets hiccups?

Flippin' the script up like Mike Vick

Get bit in his junk by a pit, yup, I'm a sick pup

I'd be a horrible magician 'cause I'd f*ck a trick up

Fix your lips up to say something fly, or zip up

A-B? Let's C

You said you're gonna do X-Y-Z

'Til you f*ck around and get dropped like an E

When you add an I-N-G

Don't put a K in front of that though, when I MC

'Cause I'm not the king of this microphone booth

It's more like a phonebooth

Superman in this bitch, kryptonite won't do

It gives me more power

I bump the fat boys and eat rat poison, take meteor showers

Fresh outta the mental hospital and me not flossin' a middle finger

While I hop in a mosh pit, will be like Nas doing gospel or R&B, you crazy?

Me pushin' up daisies? That thought is impossible

As if flashin' across the news, Posdnuos was caught with a prostitute

With a huge Johnson, boobs, and a monstrous tube of lube

And a bra, some boots, some panties, in an aqua blue Mazda

Swallowing a popsicle, playin' tonsil pool

So kill the rumours, it ain't happenin', I'ma rap 'til I'm fossil fuel