Joell Ortiz - We Go Hard lyrics

*Freestyle over 'Brooklyn Go Hard' by Jay-Z [Intro] [Royce talking]: Slaughterhouse movement. Y'all n***as ain't with us then what the f** is y'all doin'? b**hes! [Crooked I talking]: Yeah Brooklyn go hard. So does Long Beach. Uh "Brooklyn we go hard, we go hard" Crooked he go hard, he go hard (ya love hip hop) Crooked he go hard, he go hard We still love this sh**. What's up my n***as? I gotta re-educate my young n***as. It's ya boy! 20 and under. We bout to flip this sh** over again. Listen [Verse One] [Crooked I]: I grind hard, treat a cop like an irrelevant wuss So many pounds in the trunk call it elephant kush You evidence givin' Sammy Gravanos, couldn't step in my Ferragamos Even if you threw 'em at president Bush I'm back To start my controversy then pa** to Rick Warren Whup a**, you ba*tards spit borin' You have to get quaran- -tined, from the wack disease I lean back with ease, S-Cla** with six warrants Strapped with deez Guns costin' an arm and a leg like amputees I go hard And I ain't tryin' to say nothin' to rappers gettin' money But I got a message for west coast DJ's With C.O.B. in the club, I better hear some f**in' 'G-Thang' And I don't wanna hear no auto tune if it ain't T-Pain Wait, I like that 'Ye sh**, I must admit You other n***as...nah, f** that sh**! The miseducation of this generation for revenue They missed innovation, this information they never knew Why I gotta dumb down? Take a look at my house n***a I'm in my master bedroom like a house n***a Your crib on the hill ain't f**in' with ours I'm so close to the Little Dipper the stripper I'm f**in' her nipples is touchin' the stars Nah, I ain't flossin' in a recession I'm talkin' to rappers f**in' off our profession If I can't spit bars and still live large And still whip cars, I'm k**in' who's in charge Even when I drop simple sh** The most intricate j**els are in every line I just hide 'em behind the instruments Instrumentals Maybe I'm sentimental Bumpin' Nas when I'm in the rental I'll k** a pig, come visit me cause I'm in a kennel Gangsta rap I'm gangsta plus I rap Strictly coincidental I grew up around Crips with prison tats Dealers who made a k**in' in the hood but they ain't givin' back But they come to my show, I gotta give 'em that They will kidnap n***as dissin' my fitted cap Long Beach n***as doin' drive-bys in hybrids You like a dick in a dykes privates You never go in I go all out Pull a sawed off out Make you go the alternative route I mean Fall Out Boy Y'all know who I am I'm ill as yellow sneakers fam sh** god damn [Verse Two] [Royce Da 5'9"]: I'm a from a grimy city, from a bunch of miles away With no regards for the laws, I'm from a sovereign state From a murderous block Swervin' in a convertible drop Makin' sure you heard my proverbial plot I'm tryin' to take over the world like Pinky The Brain My dream mistresses is a b**h like pinky with brains Or Roxy Reynolds, I stick dick into her She s** co*k for livin', tongue kiss with Murs But I don't feel anger So like the frame of the nickle plated chrome 4-5, I'mma still bang her Original renegade, n***as still afraid Mo' n***as follow than Ashton Kutcher's Twitter page Chowder time, y'all write, I sprinkle powder lines If Kelly beat his case, my lawyer gon' swallow mines So put your nines on the crap table You life gamblin', I'm patron sippin', signed to black label Champagne wishes become realities Bad b**hes fly minus the travel needs My dick is the biggest thing on my anatomy I diss n***as for nothin' like why you mad at me? Nickle is definitely still reckless The last n***a done got k**ed that made me feel threatened Who really cares what a rapper talkin'? The only feelin' that ain't familiar is after losses I shoot Edo G in the head and go back to Boston With a trunk full of white, we call it Asher Rothin' Feel honored if I talk about your a** often You should wanna sleep in the bed I was jackin' off in There's a reason these motherf**ers are backin' off him He Floyd Mayweather, Paul Williams and Chad Dawson All rolled up in one His money trash talkin' Amongst bosses, chillin' out in the cash office n***a you testin' the one, Nickle second to none I'm hotter than Texas at three, I'm effecting the sun I don't just sound raw I'll disconnect your sh**, have you walkin' around with Bobby Brown jaw And then Whitney said crack was wack And it offended me like, floozy Why you dissin' my music? And you can ask Proof We come from Chopper City Minus the wack suit And the beef with Ness Forever inhalin' the smell of that sweet success That Khaled coke talkin', sayin' "We the best!" I'm a fan teaser This b**h said, "Who the f** died and made you God?" I said, "Jesus" I'm in the zone, I feel like a star And n***a you know what to do if you feel like a frog Go and jump in that traffic You playin' Frogger I ain't no blogger I'm Mr. Rearrange Your Aura n***as thinkin' all I got is internet soldiers '09 is the fear year, respects over The O.G.'s taught me how to do it one way So I ain't down for no games unless it's gun play n***as will murder judges Over murder grudges I don't put money on heads, I just refer to cousins I drop dope records that's hot like a furnace The needle on that record player is hypodermic They feed food from an intravenous tube k** your a** in private, between me and you I'm sick enough to go up in your house Sick of them rhymes, I spit 'em and throw up in my mouth You f**in' around with the Slaughterhouse conglomerad Like catchin' your parents f**in', I'll leave you traumatized The beef lives till the drama dies My daughter can get struck by lightening if I ain't down for homicide You don't believe in me, you an atheist thug My b**h p**y delicious as the Flavor Of Love f** what they say I tattoo your face Danger, but it ain't For The Love Of Ray J I got a Carhartt, I call my penis Dickie Before I let you bullsh** me, I let Serena kick me And she got thunder thighs I can just be so Heartless I can give you the business but I ain't from the Chi A product of the boards where Berry Gordy records I'm talkin' A-1 yola that's totally pure I flow bodies of waters, dead fishermen haunt me I got the temper of a trigger, the dick of a donkey I'm a soldier boy Yeah, I'm the last breathin' No need to turn on my swag, c'mon I'm swag sleepin' Y'all flows are old, y'all sound like last weekend I'm Marty, Delorean party with a bad 'Rican [Royce talking]: Slaughterhouse in this b**h n***a. s**a free, f** a b**h n***a [Joell Ortiz]: Brooklyn! Let me get a shot at that, holla back Down the block from Marcy and Cooper, this guy can rap Ortiz, I'm an animal, flow sh** sick Had midgets in the hospital a few blocks from you Wood Hall, I stood tall in every battle Hip hop's like football, I'm hard to tackle I'm from where they clap a mac at you then have a Snapple The Rotten part of the Apple, abandoned tabernacles Ten speeds, being peddled by chain snatchers Good greed, we truck pedal and aim ratchets If you from my berg you know we insane ba*tards so On the hottest day we sport rain jackets Get your brain splattered for a c**aine package For a little chump change they push your Rogaine backwards I don't know where you from, but where I'm from it's no good Better take the back streets to check a chick in my hood