I'll probably be in heaven when the pain stops And the raindrops keep on falling I said they keep on falling Tear drops in the pillow on my bed Still trying to keep my head up Know you'd rather see me dead And they keep on falling (Slaughterhouse yo)

"You're no good I have to cut you loooooose, you loooooose" Woo! Hello hip-hop, goodbye music It's like a love-hate relationship Ridin' in the Ferrari while takin' trips Compared to beer takin' sips Sittin somewhere in a Camaro with racin' strips Either

Get over yourselves, fucker Get over yourselves, sucker We made it, we made it, we made it But we did it our way, our way, our way Though it took some time but we finally made it Now can you truly say that you made it? Your Way Rap rap niggas We them

I don't need a hook for this one I'm, cuckoo! My triggers is stupid, you thugs is funny My guns be, goin "eh" for the love of money Dumb, fabulous rhymer give you Luger lasagna Hula hoop, hold ya, I'll put your noodles behind ya Take your takeaway, show

The lunatics now run the asylum The doctors are dead, nurses are tied up They've taken it over and barricaded themselves inside it I said the lunatics now run the asylum I walk around with OJ's glove knowing it fit Fif to the toilet we taking over this

I don't need a hook for this one I'm, cuckoo! My triggers is stupid, you thugs is funny My guns be, goin "eh" for the love of money Dumb, fabulous rhymer give you Luger lasagna Hula hoop, hold ya, I'll put your noodles behind ya Take your takeaway, show

And no more gods No more pain Release from rotten thoughts Under the ice you will be free Welcome to the slaughterhouse Under the ice you will believe Released from rotten thoughts Remember the oath Try to understand

This is my motherfucking life (my life, oh yeah) Jets fly private, nigga S5 hybrid, baby test drive my whip This is my motherfucking life S-l-a u-g-h t-e-r-h-o-u-s-e Yes we are the best in the biz The west in the bitch This eastside money over coochie

I don't be fuckin' around on that microphone Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone "The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone" Too many Indians and no chiefs I pull out the pistol when I pull no piece I'm the blueprint, I have your clothes Lookin'

Back on the scene Crispy and clean Slaughterhouse! back on the scene Here we go yo, here we go Pick it up yo, here we go Slaughterhouse family, ridin' like a taxi And yeah, I'm like Dres, I am like the black sheep