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Artist: Slaughterhouse
Album:  Party {S}
Song:   Party
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Crooked I] + (Royce)
What the fuck you talkin 'bout? (You ain't in my lane nigga)
This is Slaughterhouse (me and you ain't the same nigga)
Why you think your bitch on my dick? Cause I'm a paid nigga
Made nigga deep in her pussy like a gravedigger
I'm so high that I can chill on the roof
Pop an Oxycontin pill in the booth, give 'em the truth
Tell the world them lyrical killers still on the loose
If I make the crowd bounce my nigga Eminem will recoup
That's why the rhymes Crooked I spit, is makin a mosh pit
Fly shit, sicker than hospice, takin them hostage
Yeah, we don't party like you niggaz do
Cardi, we don't party like them niggaz do
4 AM, 20 groupies on the tour bus
On a coke high, waitin to fuck the four of us
Nahhh, we don't party like you niggaz do
Nahhh, we don't party like you niggaz do
Put some blue dolphins off in the vodka
I'm 'bout to blast off, now I'm feelin proper
We don't party like you niggaz do
We don't party like you niggaz do

[Chorus: Royce Da 5'9"]
Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang - blaow!
Wa da da dang, wa da da da dang

[Royce Da 5'9"]
Fuck you nerds doin everything cause Jay Z done said
FUCK you and your new urge to be a fake sneaker head
FUCK you and your ball game floor seats
If you just there with a broad, neither one of y'all ain't scorekeep
Probably thought LeBron was a cornerback
Heat game, wearin Grape 5's and a Hornets hat (fuck you)
Fuck you and your leather jerseys and your hairy arms
Niggaz bald then they get big-headed like Barry Bonds
Fuck you and the crowd that you perform in front of
Like you was born a stunna, your money reformed a runner
Your Instagram got bitches sayin "I heard he rich"
So you just fucked your first bad bitch at 36
That's what I call fake felt, never saw a weight scale
Shirt tucked in in front, showin off your H belt
This one of them moments where your money ain't the issue
I can call you corny cause corny niggaz get rich too
Still a sucker - corny niggaz get rich too
Sucker - we don't party like you niggaz do

[Chorus]

[Joell Ortiz]
Man fuck you fuckboys, you boys fuckin with the wrong one
Fuck your fake high, don't give a fuck if you on one
Fuck that broad you're fuckin, that pussy probably smell cra'y
Fuck, you ain't a G, who give a fuck what your belt say?
Fuck you and your section and your bottles and your sparklers
and your shades that look like night vision goggles (fuck you)
Knock off, enough with all the narcotics you knock off
The hood jumpoff's the only time you get your rocks off
Snapple fact you never pop off, your block's soft
Man I'll knock e'rybody on your block block off
You fake gat clapper, mad actor
I'm backwards, watch how this pump give you mad asthma
Put your punk story in its last chapter
I fucked the pumps off a diva, you a Kat Stack'r
No party's like a house party kid
You know what shorties sleepin on that couch probably did
That's what we get into, why even knock? You'll never get into
a house party, we don't party like you niggaz do

[Chorus]

[Joe Budden]
Yeah; I know a couple new niggaz tried to start this
Let me help you out dawg, trickin is still trickin regardless
We not in the same, you funny to us
I use my mouth for my G, you need your money to fuck
You do a lot of that, talkin down, I'm done when I bust
Take community pussy and be the dummy to cuff
It's like e'rything you do with the opposite sex
is the opposite of correct, we ain't gotta give you respect
So, whoever raised you ain't practiced for real
Type to buy a bitch a phone, be all checkin the bill
I've seen your type, corndog, wack as a fuck
Type to pass your man a hoe, then get mad when he fuck
Like you do all the shit that a real nigga don't
All that shit that a real nigga won't
Since I don't know if this sucka shit is contagious, you the nigga we see and run
No you ain't gettin no bitches, you busy bein one
And one last thing for the record 'fore I get out of here
We don't party like you niggaz do