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Artist: Slaughterhouse
Album:  Move On 12"
Song:   Move On
Typed by:

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]
No I don't respond with answers that fit a script 
So the repetition will make a nigga flip 
We in the game of smoke and mirrors 
Those engineering a bigger spliff 
Blowing circles out they mouth getting praise but the shit is shift 
I never lived a myth, if I said it I did it 
Never alleged, word to dead I gripped a fifth 
I made my housing tenement a strip, moving medicine and nicks 
When I seen them coming I jetted from them pricks 
And still to this day, though she clean, I wish my mommy never sniffed 
But the hurt is making me better with this gift 
I'm live with this ink, you could die in a blink and
Y'all got the nerve to ask me why do I drink and
Motherfuckers, sometimes I cry when I'm thinking 
Y'all ain't there when them tears being dried by the sink 
It was cold in the winter, my community centers who gave me dinner 
I ain't mind, my table chairs gave me splinters 
Set up to be a loser but was made to be a winner 
If they paint Hip-Hop I bet my face be in the picture 
If they wrote a rap bible, bet my name be in the scriptures 
If shorty say I'm her idol, bet her face be in my zipper 
I came a long way from the staples in my skrilla 
Stains on my pants hardly had a cut 
The ladies ain't want to dance so house parties would suck 
All my friends on the wall, I'm in the hall with a cup 
Nah I ain't complaining, just telling y'all what it is 
So if y'all going through it now just know that another kid 
Made something out of nothing - well I'm fronting, I was never nothing 
Older ladies used to tell my mother "Ain't he something?"
I look at a lot of you cats and laugh 
Cuz I'm the shit, man, and y'all ain't even passing gas 
When I spit, I'm the definition of mastered craft 
And all y'all ask about is Aftermath 
Motherfucker move on

[Verse 2: Joe Budden]
I got to give my own interview 
Since niggas that do my interviews focus on whatever's miniscule 
And paint me as a cynical 
But the canvas will limit you, you can't go beyond what there's no limit to 
If I think Hip-Hop is dead I think it's being revived 
And that comes from me being inside 
Where the demons get by, see them goodbye 
If I'm vehement here's why 
Come from hearing it and seeing venomous lies 
So the beast in me cries cuz when it's all you hear 
Shit can overbear just when the over in air 
So I try to think straight cuz when you stare in the rear 
Rest in peace Stewart Shakir, nigga yea 
I'm on another label, not that other label 
That mean it's no longer my problem, it's theirs 
Some say it's a conspire
I say if everybody's on the thrown that's just more motive to kill the heir 
Ask me about ‘Pump It Up' and I'm a think you sheep 
Oh you must not know I'm deep 
I'm so off of music so y'all can soundscan every week 
Me? I just got my little man every week 
Jersey City loves me despite y'all beliefs 
Cuz they was baby stepping, I showed them how to leap 
Ask me about swag, 
I'm a change the topic to lyrics and then brag 
Plus look at you like a fag 
I love everybody, don't ask about who I beef with 
They burnt the bridge but they was standing underneath it 
I'm on my grind, Benjamin hunting 
Was old since I was young, call me Benjamin Button 
Stop using slang just for you to be cool 
Cuz I go back to when it was cool to be you 
I'm a hero, no I mean I'm Hiro from Heroes 
Y'all chase zeros 
Motherfucker I just got finished hating me, feeling like a zero 
They played De Niro, never been there though 
So before your next thought, understand 
Know it's much more to me than a man 
Either that or move on

[Verse 3: Royce Da 5'9"]
My rhymes a reflection of Scarface and Prem's soul 
Before Jordan was wearing four five 
I just look like this, I just seemed old 
But I had to bleed the blood of a dirty motherfucker 
To suffer clean clothes and touch what a king holds 
The real estate market is harsh, everything goes 
From folds to who you was doing everything for 
But I cut them off and move on to the new checks 
New friends chasing my new ends with new threats 
Watching my dreams fold like a stack of bills 
In the pocket of who ain't trying to push up daffodils 
But we the super group, you couldn't handle this shit 
If you were standing before us carrying the pooper scoop 
You dealt with shady shit? I dealt with shady shit 
But I'm the only one can truly say I dealt with Shady's shit 
I mean that with all respect to Paul and Sheck 
But Ryan and Marshal is all you get 
My flows superb, I love Pauli Rosenberg 	
What I say in a track those just words 
Baby boy forgive me, I'm just street 
Cuz I can change into anything niggas want me to be like Mystique
I don't got to dig deep to realize 
Slim bought Big Proof a big jeep 
Because he deserved it, how can I mourn 
The same way Shady did over him when he knew him when he attended Osborne?
Marshal I'm sorry, I knew it went left 
I ain't into fucking my family like incest 
If you remember ice used to be my life's interest 
Tell Hailey my wife just had a princess 
Since I made up with Em there's nothing else 
That I can move on from so who wants some 
Like a jar of Grey Poupon 
You have to ask anybody in any car 
Want it? Or move on

[Verse 4: Crooked I]
When fans picture my interviews they think I'm in a swimming pool 
With women who've been abused 
So they turn into strippers making they living in the nude 
One in the middle blowing my inner tube while the interviewers getting ridiculed 
Is this your vision? Cool. Let me give you a little jewel 
Any dude who want to sit in my tennis shoes is missing screws 
Don't get it misconstrued, don't get this shit confused 
I'm two seconds from prison food, I'm a different dude 
Pistol in my reach, man, still in Long Beach, man
Hoping if my grind don't help me get out, my speech can 
I been in the streets longer than Yao Ming's wingspan 
You can be MTV, I'll be C-Span 
I deal with politics, bandannas and hollow tips 
Half you rappers follow this, role models can swallow dick 
Was stressed out over cash flow 
Hip-Hop used to console my soul, now it's a bunch of assholes 
Rap about a dance while I'm targeting cops 
Spit some shit for Oscar Grant, hit the sergeant with shots 
Make him a +ghost+ like he part of The Lox 
I won't stop recording till I'm making songs harder than Pac's 
If it don't happen, at least a nigga know he right there 
Every memory under my Dodger hat's a nightmare 
As a kid I had to steal breakfast 
And now the best question you have to ask me, "Is this a real necklace?"
"Where's your beat from Dre?" "Your feature from Cube?"
These things leave people confused 
Cuz they know I leave speakers abused, I eat the EQs 
I eat through the beat, what's the secret? I think it's the shoes 
Back in Cali, niggas blaze and stress 
Waiting on Detox to save the West 
Even if the shit is dope it ain't giving you niggas hope 
Unless your signature's wrote on the check from Interscope, nope
Move on