Slaughterhouse - Back The f** Up lyrics

[Hook: Royce da 5'9"] What the f** are you looking for? Can't a young n***a get money anymore? Can y'all bums get funny anymore? Can my life get sunny anymore? Back the f** back 'fore I f** you up Ay! Back the f** back 'fore I f** you up You better back the f** back 'fore I f** you up (Slaughterhouse!) I came, I saw I conquered, I'm a monster Back the f** back 'fore I f** you up You better back the f** back 'fore I f** you up [Verse 1: Royce da 5'9"] Feeling like the greatest, Motor City's finest My crew looking Jamaican, I'm rolling with the grinders They calling me Old Head, but so what the [cards?] young I set the bar with the bars even though I'm bar none Hot car, top's off, hot broad, rockstar Watch not flawed, tell y'all to watch dogs knock it off I'm too pretty to fight, this gonna end fast My clip long as Sinbad's when it's on it's tenth blast f** y'all radio play, f** y'all radio stations Long as I'm paid, my lady built like a long-legged alien If it all ended today, I can honestly say I performed and recorded with the greatest, word on The Chronic to Dre Now I'm as polished as Obama wiping down a diamond With the a** of Diamond from Crime Mob After she's had a shiny Armani hind-job I'm a be straight And you can pick a rapper, any rapper, and line up the date I'm in a zone where the f** is the ref with the whistle? Don't gotta impress you, I just diss you The press pretzels the issue My homie Joey showed me the net And I went and got me a gross net fiscal I'll stretch you like the tek is a Bowflex pistol So don't bet You would prefer me to be coming with you like phone s** With a s**y electrician whose next mission Is to cut your buzz off if you don't rap right I ain't wrapped tight but I'm just that gift Crack piff, mac spit, Cadilac flips We can match whips, battle rap dick I'd rather have an actress on my mattress Who giving me brain so long she don't know jack sh** But how to do that dick Fact sh** confidence of a fat chick Caught onto fashion from catchin bodies at Saxs and Fifth I came, saw, and I conquered, pig gang Y'all talkin I'm chainsawing your tonsils [Hook] [Verse 2: Joell Ortiz] Out for lunch with my accountant Back the f** back down to Chase doing counting My b**h back the f** back it up when I'm pounding Y'all funny style watching Broke-the-f**-back-Mountain Y'all tuned into the Slaughters, the group fathers hate Cause we move in on their daughters, with sh** news reporters Holding their hand when they trying to get interviews in order That's a chico stick mami, come chew me I'm a quarter Of the House Gang, call it the crib, mami These n***as running trying to get in our seat, a bunch of Mitt Romney's But I stand at the podium with the fifth by me Screaming out "Yes we can, open yo sh** Papi" I rap well so I'm a bit co*ky From Maxwell blank tapes with the tissue in it to disc copies To downloads in one click I'll be Still rhyming when music is telepathic you can come sit by me I'll stare at you with the rawest thoughts CNN? Y'all think news, CNN? I think War Report I say "Big L, " you say "weed", I say Harlem's boss A legend I'm repping for him and all that my sport has lost Hip-Hop ain't just a way of life It's all I know, it's what fill up my kid's cutty day and night When it got soft, y'all conformed, man I stand to fight Y'all went bathing apes I went ape in my favorite Nikes Back the f** back bredren I brought it back when rap was defective, please don't ask me no questions Friend or foe, speak quick Or I'll put this foot back the f** back where you leak sh** [Hook]