[Verse 1: Eminem]

Life handed me lemons

I jumped back into the public eye and squirted lemon juice in it

By now you just wish I'd fucking die but I electrify

Get electrocuted, executed by an executioner of my flow

Too quick for the human eye to detect zooming by

(Chick-chick-chick-chick-ah!) Guess who, what's happening guys?

They told me to shit, I fell off that pot

Hopped right back up on that crapper and I

Said "fuck It" with a capital I

Look who's back to antagonize

You don't like it? You can eat shit, fuck off little faggot and die

You're right back like a maggot on my dick grabbing at my,

Shit better get to the back of the line

You wanna get your shot at me what kinda crap is that battle

What kind of rapper would I be-'fore I let another rapper think he's hot

I'll bury my face in his stinky twat and go alalalala!

Girl my head space is limited, ain't even room in the back of my mind

That's why I ain't thinking about you, I don't got time and I told you a thousand times

So how can I find the time to put an alkaline battery in Royce's back

And at the same time put juice in mine?

Goddamn it! Slaughterhouse is signed!

SLAUGHTERHOUSE!

[Verse 2: Crooked I]

I'm a – menace villain, my pen is sitting spilling, my lyrics killing

Then I let you witness shit when it hit the ceiling

The niggas willing to give the listeners the sickest feeling

Like mixing some Benadryl and penicillin

Then I'm filling the clip with a written

Can you picture my pistol drilling?

A million women and children when I'm illing

But it isn't real, it's a rap

On the realest of rap

How could you possibly stop the Apocalypse

When I'm atomic bombing the populous

Shock the metropolis hostile as a kid

Popping the Glock at his moms and his pops

Then he hops in his drop with his iPod rocking the Slaughterish

Documentation and lyrics I write with confidence

Write like a columnist slash novelist

I'm in this game to demolish it, establish my dominance

Over prominent rappers you popping shit 'til you opposite

I can spit ominous so spit politics now I'm Haile Selassie, Gandhi, and Pac

Of this hip hop genre, bitch!

SLAUGHTERHOUSE!

[Verse 3: Royce da 5'9'']

Lyrically I'm a cocaine Altoid

Ability told brain it's a no brain bout boy

Physically I'm literally a cocaine cowboy

Wait wait, did I just go almost four bars without talking about my big dick?

The other day me and your thick bitch had a great date and we ate cake

And then we walked and then she tried to jack me off but she lost

Cause she couldn't handle my shake weight, I sweared

Irony of Ryan is I am bipolar while I'm rhyming

Standing beside a big old (big old) white bear!

Neither one of us fight fair, you are literally looking at Woody and Wesley in a movie

Where the white boy ain't got to jump, nowhere cause I'm here

Nigga I'm on fire yeah! and I'm every bitch's dream

One, two, I'm coming for you, I'm a big old (big old) Nightmare!

Nigga this is slaughter stepping up

I'll pretty much slap your ass and tell you to shut the fuck up!

After that I'll slap your ass again and tell you to shut the fuck up shutting up!

And that's how you body a fucking beat!

SLAUGHTERHOUSE!

[Verse 4: Joell Ortiz]

I should be the one that goes slow, nah!

Get a stopwatch, clock my flow

Hit the button on top watch the drug drop

O O dot dot O, Yaowa

When I drop I go outer space

Blackout like Darth Vader's face

Placed in a molten shower

Say something and get them proper

Mama poppa pouring out vodka

Mama Mia, Em pass me the scissors there's visitors in the Slaughterhouse casa

Better jet boy go home, better jet boy G4 chrome,

Better jet boy Mark Sanchez, Santanio Holmes, I'm not just any old homeboy!

Sitting in a lab picking up a pad

I be spitting bad, I'm a get you mad with this gift I have

Lord duck sufferin' succotash when the trigger blast

I'm a put your beak on your fitted hat

Where the liquor at? Sip of yak

Bad bitch and a vicious track I relididax

Sly Pro Tools to boast Joe smooth I coast to the West like where Crooked livin' at

New York here's a piggyback ride to the motherland

Hold on brotherman, on the other hand get down

I'm gutter fam, gun butt you with the Eagle handle Cunningham

I don't wanna talk, I just wanna beef

I don't want a piece, I want it all baby boy

I don't wanna eat, I wanna feast stuff my cheeks with raw pieces of shit

You done weak, I'm the one, capiche?

SLAUGHTERHOUSE!

[Verse 5: Joe Budden]

Uh, Insane what they call us

How you married to the game but you prolly shouldn't have came to the altar

Every bar like propane for the sawed-off, using a hammer to forge you

Eminem, Mr. Porter, slaughter my sentiment's imminent torture

All of you feminine marauders, that's women at war

Men will assault you, Tommy's and bats that resemble Lasorda

Kidnap your trembling daughter, at least a quarter

Of administering supporters, got an aura more like Sodom and Gomorrah

Normally something's wrong with me

Blame it on the quantity of the porn I see on the pause to me

When I fix the game they'll think shit came with a warranty

How the fuck are they gonna stop when I was born to be

Corner me, shit belong to me, two choices, you can get along with me

Or sit your faggot ass right there in dormancy

Wait, all you missing is heels to be Ru Paul

Ain't nobody that's real ever knew y'all

Second to none and I'm dealing with Marshall

This time I never come down, deal with the blue balls

You ain't gotta fear me but you'll respect me

Niggas who never met me threaten me, want to gillete me

Coming to a sword fight against a machete

Swinging spaghetti like it's heavy some said he deserve an ESPY

In a Chevy like Andretti, put the Dezzy where his chest be

SLAUGHTERHOUSE!