Lyrics:

We’ve been back, back, niggers,
Rap, rap, niggers,
You’ll be talking shit about it all day.
And in the underground, niggers,
I’m in to let you on the loud, what’s to make worse your way.
Get over yourselves, fuckers,
Get over yourselves, fuckers.

Guess that we the bad niggers,
Rap, rap, niggers,
Who will never sell a record, no way.

We made it, we made it, we made it
But we did it our way, our way, our way
Going through some times and we finally made it
Now can you truly say that you made it? No way.

Do you miss the end and be all the opinion,
Fuck what you’re saying, you’ve got fans and we’ve got millions,
Plus Eminem that stands like an arena, I wouldn’t seen him
From abroad to back home, you all got the clap, we’re gonna make this track.
Clap, clap, platform,
Let me take your back, we turn one song to a group, to a concept, to a record deal
Yes, it feels more like carpentry than out the street password, let’s get real.
All you hybrid niggers don’t like 52 why we in the 62
But it ain’t no industry business I ain’t differ to
And forgot niggers just try the flow,
Just lay down and picture your soul over your body.

Get over yourselves, fuckers,
Get over yourselves, fuckers.

Guess that we the bad niggers,
Rap, rap, niggers,
Who will never sell a record, no way.

We made it, we made it, we made it
But we did it our way, our way, our way
Going through some times and we finally made it
Now can you truly say that you made it? No way.

Check my rhyme, timeline, I took time with every line
I ain’t out of rhyme unless I check your sign
My bank account, it don’t look bad,
I got house, gang, hood, swag,
Don’t crook and I jump off with five nines on good jet.
Hell yeah, I could brag, do they never switch
Whether the boo from the street, I kept a mac in my book bag
You mad lord nigger, ‘cause I’m holding a belt
Do some mad lips, nigger, get over yourself.

I’m here for the duration, you’re here for repetition,
Slide the trace over your shirt, prepare your ears for devastation
‘cause if y’all want that motherfucker, y’all go in,
Y’all be mad, go write that, but once again,

Get over yourselves, fuckers,
Get over yourselves, fuckers.

Guess that we the bad niggers,
Rap, rap, niggers,
Who will never sell a record, no way.

We made it, we made it, we made it
But we did it our way, our way, our way
Going through some times and we finally made it
Now can you truly say that you made it? No way.

As opposed to jeffa photoshop, my whole image was wrong
Straight out of movie, took a pill and all my limit was gone
Had to mention the best and you got to argue, son
Close, I used to borrow some last named drugs
Just so may day could see how far I come
Changing the tab with the women they know me to keep mine in labels
Ass that ain’t great, judging of shape, session keep ‘em instable.
They left him for dead, took him to watch me resurrect, that’s shoot pathetic
Showed them the blade, it’s a shame and a crime, say, to give me credit
I got kitchens and the masters, the fish tank as a wall,
I got couches in the closets, my estate is confuse
When you say that play in me for the fool in this with a blessing that’s still
There’s no other out come one to question my will.

Get over yourselves, fuckers,
Get over yourselves, fuckers.

Guess that we the bad niggers,
Rap, rap, niggers,
Who will never sell a record, no way.

We made it, we made it, we made it
But we did it our way, our way, our way
Going through some times and we finally made it
Now can you truly say that you made it? No way.

They say I’d never make it, never make it
My rhyme scheme is a crime scene, buckle all and tape it
For lyrical murder, I’m on the verge of my next murder
Had to call before I walk so after I ex gurb I take you a step further.
I took over the web service,
I took over the west world to this fresh words and rolled away with the web surfers.
A circus- that’s what this industry makes me think about
Selling out and shortcuts, integrities to see me grow
But who would never seen a cruel better team
While you forever sleep we’re doing everything you fuckers dream about
Suckers.
Slaughterhouse is what they scream and shout
Knock the crowd, I mean you bitch now.

Get over yourselves, fuckers,
Get over yourselves, fuckers.

Guess that we the bad niggers,
Rap, rap, niggers,
Who will never sell a record, no way.

We made it, we made it, we made it
But we did it our way, our way, our way
Going through some times and we finally made it
Now can you truly say that you made it? No way.