Artist: Royce Da 5'9" f/ Slaughterhouse Album: The Bar Exam 4 Song: Chopping Block Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Royce Da 5'9"] Uh, rap niggaz back on the chopping block Come out that house, back to yo' mom and yo' papa's spot Back to the county, back to three hots in a hostel cot Come out them colossal rocks back to yo' Fossil watch My life is foul, sometimes I wish I could write this down To keep your wife from screamin out Jesus Christ she can bite the towel while she receivin pipe from the nicest, my mic is Rikers Isle My mind deep as minin for diamonds, I raise MacGyver brow I'm five minutes from perfect timin, I'm like the price is down A high roller, Cairo'ed like I'm Chyna and Tyga child Mighta fucked one of you silver medalist's 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 nigga a shiner Consider this shit designer to slaughter militant rhymers Hold up, my nigga 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 yo' proper spot We are not friends, we just connected, dot to dot Stomp you 'til you feel like you livin in Waka Flocka's sock I could box, that's why niggaz opt to not Money wide in my pocket mockin that awesome rock may not 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 of 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 clappin I'll have your spinal column out of yo' body right by you and yo' bodyguard lookin like lasagna and cottage fries Retire or apologize, or die, you lookin right in the fire Tryna be hot as me or tryna see eye to eye Obviously honesty's not your policy [Joell Ortiz] I'm two seconds from smackin somebody face hard as hell ... And I know that he listenin But the way shorty neck is positionin while she spittin in the hole of my dick, makes that other pussy not worth it I put my foot in yo' ass with all my old verses It's like my sole purpose is givin my soul's purpose I don't start but I'll finish you with a earth nap E'rybody I turned into ashes believe they earned that Skip rap, let's talk real people To this day I die laughin with niggaz 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 E'ry night mom's prayin that they ain't moppin me up I'm up top gettin mop from Mia, mama mia Now as far as the bars varyin, I'm barbarian He-Man, Hanna-Barbera action figure Arms stiffer than Shawn Marion when he ball-carryin Oh man we in Slaughter mode, Paul Rosenberg, pallbearers and Em Who'd be left if the social media era died? Shit, 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 [KXNG Crooked] Rap niggaz back on the chopping block Kill 'em before they body rot, I'll use they body parts to paint a Basquiat Really I'm savin you, your label's rapin you +Transform+ in Ur-anus like an Autobot ass-fuckin a cosmonaut You prolly like it but keepin it low-key, 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 seein my Jewish homie rockin a swastika during Hanukkah 'stead of rockin his yarmulke While Stevie Wonder gawkin at Rihanna's exotic erotic body through the wrong side of some top dollar binoculars It's obvious, somebody gotta be mockin us None given, I'm out of fucks Uh, I been on another level since I came into the industry still the illest spittin, gettin rid of powder puffs You cowards are out of luck, you Howards know how to +Duck+ 40-caliber loud as fuck, for now it's tucked What? Rap niggaz back on the chopping block Give this bitch 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 dope 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 poppin out of her neck, she give me mad throat cause she a head doctor minus the lab coat And when it come to bein an incredible spitter My nigga I'm Eminem's negative picture, black GOAT I'm nice cuz [Joe Budden] Yeah, rap niggaz back on the chopping block Same goal when niggaz was bumpin Scott LaRock Same goal, though niggaz swear you a shockin jock Screamin "What's poppin now?" Red beam, cockin shots With that said, no proceedin can be lethal And it could be on sight before a nigga 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 askin how they iller than me? It's gettin hot, you could 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? In wash Carhartt jeans, hard as it seem Was all part of goin bored to some bars to barking Beg for your pardoning, your bothersome bar schemes Matter fact, who the FUCK you know is harder than him? Say the gang broke up, well shit it wasn't the gang Fuck a verse, when it's family it just run in your veins Joey [Outro: Joe Budden] It go! Nickel! Happy to be back, guys Crook, Joell, haha