Artist: Slaughterhouse Album: House Rules Song: SayDatThen Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Royce Da 5'9"] You got somethin on yo' mind nigga? Say dat then [Crooked I] Well let me say it without worryin about if my label OK it When Weapon Waist whylin out man, give him room Used to have skeletons in my closet but now they sit in my living room Octomom, I picture puttin more niggaz in a hole than that bitch's womb The street sweeper's the wicked witch's broom A silver spoon, I never had it I grew up mad at Anne Frank cause the bitch lived in a better attic (Say dat then) I seen my share of static They say that it made me charismatic Born leader who was born Libra in a foreign two-seater with a porn diva, blowin reefer and pourin liters of vodka, cause the Fed's freezin a nigga bread I'm drinkin thinkin they gon' seize me even when I'm dead (Fuck 'em!) Killers in my backyard In the dark with choppers while I'm sleepin in my bed Dreamin about Slaughterhouse droppin an album that's a chart topper while I got these demons schemin on my head Even though I'm the realest, see it wasn't enough violence in "Menace II Society" to show you how Cali killers be chillin in society And the police, they hate me Long Beach PD, probably wanna kill Eminem for signin me (real talk!) Cause I was supposed to be a statistic A ghost to me is realistic My dead homie said "Say dat then" [Joell Ortiz] Guess this where I'm supposed to vent, huh? Under scrutiny all my opportunity went, huh? Reality is I had more personality bent, huh? Nonsense But honestly my conscience, is dealin with a constant conflict with the bullshit I've been doin that I feel so bad about the second after it's accomplished A compass, I need one of those cause I'm wanderin in darkness But I see straight and it feels great bein clean around this Bein clean around this (say dat then) Bein clean around this garbage, two-steppin through this garden full of frozen cold snakes when you a lion, warm-hearted Bank account comma but still get your undergarments from Target with a penthouse apartment, kinda nigga still ready to piss in that elevator and shake the doorman's hand before you go joggin Yaowa; I'm just a hood nigga, fuck it But I'm a good nigga fuckin after that cat on my tongue But never the cat got my tongue my nigga (say dat then) So I could knock your dome off your neck Get your whole right eye socket broke with a left You could go ape-shit, fake prick And take flicks with eight cliques, you still never posin a threat If you gon' say somethin say it then [Interlude: 2Pac sample] Hahahaha, my biiiig mouth I got a big mouth, I can't help it I talk from my heart I'm real, youknow'msayin? Whatever comes, comes [Royce Da 5'9"] You got somethin on yo' mind nigga? I made a livin off of rhymin 'bout just how I feel at the moment Right at this particular moment, I'm in that zone where I'm wonderin how far I really could get with just my diploma Reflectin on how rap is a blessin Feelin that same feelin before I fucked my first bad bitch that I got right after undressin, feelin like "Am I about to get this?" In yo' head you hear it That voice of confidence that comes down on you from the heavens like "Yeah, you 'bout to get it" Just hope that you don't stick your dick in a dud Cause that bitch can end up your wife or your mistress or a chick the same type as your mistress or a chick that's just gon' draw your name with a stick in the mud Rather intended or unintended It all comes with the territory, no pun intended I fell out with all of my friends like "Is it me or is it them?" Angry like, "Shit everybody can't be wrong, but a lot of these niggaz just can't be right!" Therefore, I'll say it's their fault, say dat then, I fuckin plan to Too many hoes out here niggaz done ran through I'd rather roll through the valley and lay low I done fell out of love and back in love again then out of love and back with my spouse more than Halle and J-Lo If she left me my inner self would shatter I could leave her cause I'm a selfish addict The problem is I just don't want nobody else to have her If we split up consider my health a hazard or else livin in wealth and lavish And as far as THESE NIGGAZ, who wanna kill me you'll never get a chance You a criminal chill with your subliminal Twitter rants You bigger than that, you just ain't bigger than me You are literally killin me figuratively I'm busy thinkin about who hot and how they bit off me If any one of you niggaz jump on me nobody gon' have to tell you that you should probably get off me And that's off rip bruh, your contract killers can sign off wit'cha That little beef y'all talkin is small things to a giant Like Goliath been drinkin that anaconda malt liquor Slaughterhouse, we the nicest four fellas (House Gang!) And if that day should come that we should ever part ways It'll just be an excuse for us to, reunite at Coachella [Joe Budden] I heard them words and they stung, my ear drum Was told that cancer finally made it through his lungs Some of y'all are blessed enough that y'all have no idea what the fuck I'm talkin 'bout cause y'all got no experience So in case you hear this verse and thinkin there's the slightest chance that he'll survive His cancer's on level four (level four) and there's not a five So my mother lose her mother, now my dad is losin his All from miles apart, wildest part is that's not the wildest part What's outlandish is I too would wanna vanish Alcoholic uncle robbin 'em blind and takin advantage My aunt's supposed to be holdin him down, but she's sure to gain (why!) Behind his back just took out another insurance claim ... (Say dat then) Well indeed I will They makin all these alterations to his will He can't even play his poker games in peace, y'all gotta chill Like I can't decide if he's dyin or y'all rather have him killed I know a nigga last breath shouldn't be this way, and if there was I would panic too Tell me what's a man to do Playin devil's advocate, none of it's understandable I walk in the house and feel that energy as if it's tangible Well e'ry rapper got a Cuban on lookin like marks, I'm just busy tryin to get my Mark Cuban on My Lyor, Rick Rubin on, my Nas, 'Pac, Big, Jay, Em, infusion on Could outrap any movement goin Gun on that couch shit, wrong one to be runnin your mouth with Bars, no VH1, it's Mouse shit If a nigga don't spit crack, go back and stock up No harms, sometimes you gotta stir it 'til it rock up Been broken, been rich, been high, sober Fucked almost e'ry model twice over like I was livin my life over These niggaz ain't gotta like me but after a decade in they all respect me Shit, they don't even directly indirect me It's cool though, back to business, stackin these riches means caskets in ditches with my Trues on livin sacrilegious It's Joe, lookin like money all the pretty hoes can't help but look Life hand me lemons, better be what Jordan Belfort took Slaughter la familia, Glocks out over here The +Schoolboy+'s with Kendrick, we dropouts over here Uhh, no offense cause them my niggaz, and that list is short You get the gist, I'm sure Joey