Lyrics:

You get more for your money when you fuck wit Mr. Porter


JOELL ORTIZ
As long as I got my pen
I don't need a friend
We got ends that we each
Will lend eachother
My brother just holla'd
At me again
He said he tired of all the lyin deceiving and dick riding the people providing
On every beat but when
I do it it's stupid
I bruise it like a bad itch
I lose it
my musics a movement
and they just mad stiff
I told em its mathematical
When this pad lift
Point em out
And i will subtract em
Wit an add lib
See the fact is
I'm a bastard
How could I not be macho man
I'm a savage
In the past I was passive
But now im mad bitch
I'm spazzin
You get an adidas classic
For your asses

ROYCE
Nigga linked to won it all
Snatch your vocal cords out
Then plug em in my wall
You a knife at a gun fight
My shit is raw
You a square
You silverware in a civil war
The Slaughterhouse wolfpack
Riders under the moon
The reason you itchin
Witcha lighter under ya spoon
Im a lover
The lead bustin is over with
You put your hand on the butt
I head butt the ovaries
God did me in war paint
For all weathers
I'm Mr spill my liquors
On my alcohol temper
No need to ride wit anybody
I feel the heat can help me
Your jeans skinnier than
Em is when he eatin healthy

Joe Budden
Outnumbered, outspoken
Outcasted, outweighted Outrageous odds are outlasted
Outlandish
So i learned to outwit em
Outsmart em, out grow em
And outfit em
Cream, outbid em
Team, cant outspit em
Keep sleepin
Your wet dream is out wit em
Doin a lil yoga
A lil kamasutra
Steak outs nigga
Used to be a ramen noodle
Heavy on B & Es
Was a common shooter
Compton ruger
Moms call me con and lose ya
I suggest you and your mans
To regroup
Bet against ya
But probably cant recoup

Crooked I
I point a pistol
At ya mama mia
Im sick as Tyson
In the ring at the colluseum
Wit gonnarhea
Fuck a rap
When my clap
Is as black is Mama Dia
Fuck you R&B bitches
Shutup you not Aaliyah
When Mr. Porter
Record a piano
Producers may wanna
Order some ammo
Im a California
Corner reporter
Your boy wasnt
Born wit a quarter
Bein poor was a horror
Now my aura
Is sorta Soprano
Look here
We reinvent the wheel
To have a good year
And yall tired
We like Tyler Perry
Mixed wit Everlast
The house of pain
Slaughterhouse gang nigga!