Artist: Slaughterhouse & DJ Drama f/ SLV Album: On the House Song: Who I Am Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [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 [Chorus] [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~! [SLV] I'll fuck any girl I want! [Chorus]