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See Dead People

See Dead People Lyrics Slaughterhouse

Mixtape: On the House

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"]
I say different days, same sick language
You a game, I’m a game of Russian roulette
Pain and Kurt Cobain mixed with Bane drenched in purple rain
I rearrange your prints, cut your fingers off
Mail them to your son's kindergarten class
In a Remy Martin glass
Note attached saying Billy, call your dad
Signed sincerely, he really caught it bad
He clearly can not dial you
The alcoholic induced me in a coma can sleep
The hostile you, see murder, my style true
Basquiat, Reebok shoe
Our guns ain’t coming out if we not shooting
Yours? Yours is coming out with Detox 2
When we shot, woo, we shock
Which one of y’all niggas wanna box the King Cobra?
I'll mop your team sober
I’m not stoppin’ till they drop me in a box in a mausoleum
Saying here lies an artist with an audience broader than Joselyn’s shoulders
Peep how I play with the flow, related to Poe
I'm the greatest to go n favor Patron
Maybe record a poem with Oprah and play it back for Raven Simone
Later niggas!
I got a crush on Queen Latifah cuz I had a dream
We got our fuck on without the Monie Love
I'm wildin' on these drugs
It’s just me and my team and an obscene amount of girls
You can eat our dust, we playing ring around the world

[Hook]
I said you know
That we are
So crazy (I I see dead people)
(I I I see dead people)
And plus, we know (I I see dead people)
That we are (I I I see dead people)
So crazy (I I I see dead people)
(I I I see dead people)

[Verse 2: Crooked I]
Yea, I see them too with my sixth sense
They prowling while I’m browsing through your housing
With the authority to do you horribly
Leave you in 8 sections like fixed rent
While your bitch bent over extending my dick’s lenght
Doggy style literally when she make my cock expand yo
You barking up the wrong tree again
Nothing’s three-dimensional, different plain of existence
The only world a clairvoyant human being can see me in
My theatrics need, psychiatrics right
Like these raps getting ghost-written
By somebody psychopathic residing inside of my psyche’s attic
Inspiring rap shit that the coke get in
Or it might be acid, constipation
No shit and it might be magic, that’s it!
Speaking of magic
All I need is a package of the Magnums and a thick
Snow bunny to pull off the illest rabbit in hat trick
I’m throwing verbals at you before my circle slapped you
Hey, guess what I heard
If you anti snitch it can bring down even the greatest person, that true?
I guess so, go ask Joe Paterno statue I'm (Crazy nigga!)
That instrumental loop and I sit in a mental institution
With screws loose in my temple, sending you simpleton illusions
Confusing your views with simple distribution
Of lyrics I’m using to abuse you

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Joell Ortiz]
Y’all crazy man, I ain’t crazy man, tell them Swayze man
They think I’m nuts like a squirrel baby hands
Patting the ground, burying my ex-girl’s new man’s left testicle
Next to two Stans, yelling Shady fans
Starting a Rescue Ranger van that Dale painted grey and tan
But that ain’t the case man, I’m just tryna save fans
From the same damn million and 80 gram
3-80 blam bars while I wipe my Raybans sunny cuz they can’t mummy
I mean rap, y’all get the point like E.T. back in the 80’s
So ease back when Ortiz rap, it’s Navy, Air Force, Army and Marines packed
In an ABC opposition operative robot
Built by the fans who feel y'all so not
That ill so they scream YAOWA when your show start
We'll devour you cowards, firing rounds from high powered go karts
Till your entire towns in a shower and the soap dropped
Fuck! Like the last slut who sucked my blow pop
Cuz I’m charming and shlong felt like King Kong’s arm in her poor twat
Antibiotics, my psychotic is sick
Recite The Bible on the toilet cuz my God im the shit
Grab my iPod and it skips
All you hear is the house like sittin’
On Amityville couch sayin’ Michael you a bitch see
See? Pump him with thorozine, I can’t see
Sido, e-mail from horror scenes, Sí! Sí!
Doctor, I see red people or like CC Sabathia's contract
Maybe it’s a whole bunch of dead people

[Hook]

[Verse 4: Joe Budden]
Wonder why he different from his boys
My temperament’s annoyed, Sigmund Freud
Belligerent on Ritalin and 'Roids don’t
Look for a reason, all sentiment is void
Oh and pencil-in, I'm coy, when I enter and destroy
Watch the tape slow mo it took the stand, face bland
Raise my left hand, spit on the Bible as I approached it
Grab the mic screamed it’s over for you roaches we can close this
Only thing can make me crazy, they can’t figure out a motive
Say I’m bipolar you'll minimalize my mental stride
Memorize the track enterprise as if I’ve been inside
In my eyes flesh is meat tenderized
My heart winterized
If God put my sins aside I swear I’ll start genocide
My funeral should look like a general died
Dog’s there, let the kennel inside
And they’ll say he insane though
Me, I’d agree with that claim though
Peep my angle, cause some would say he is an angel
Never gave a fuck y'all gave way too many
In my state of serenity he'd get mangled
How can me and him be in the same boat
Ain't no, Choke slam Fantasia with the Reading Rainbow
Peeing, flee in the same clothes
Just Joe 20-12 Lou Ferrigno on just blow
Head in a fish bowl
Headed to hell, dipped in crisco
And walk over to your click, show me where it is
He was eating turned into Al Green with a phobia of grits
I know dudes that never took a fall for they body
Skipped childhood perhaps couldn’t afford an Atari
Record to harm me call for Robbie LaFours if you try to mawl the real Paul McCartney
You might have thought this out awkwardly
Not neurotic, it's perpetual
And home boy that ain’t saliva, it’s last week’s Molly residue
That demon I carry is heavy
So whoever said that’s a hard pill to swallow must never met me
My new nickname’s Approach With Caution
You owe me money, I resurrect if you approach that coffin
Take my kindness for weakness it'll be your last error
I wrote my thin line between love and hate in mascara
Give me gasoline, plyers, clever, don’t forget the wrench
More oil on his tongue, easier to get him pinched
Slaughterhouse fuck tared and leaves you ain’t get the hint
Basement full of insides, freezer full of ligaments
Let that be a warning if you eager to get 'em lynched
Gut you niggas whole use Febreze just to rid the stench
Your devoured, work magic with a weapon
And I’m just indecisive as D Howard you bleed coward
Be certain if you see a guy lurking through your blinds and curtains
It’s Tyler Durden, and Verbal Kint merging, emerging
As if it's just artificial insemination
Only here for revenge cause to him it's ventilation
Pissed off and annoyed he was born in incineration
By a virgin man menstruating as a nurse continue racing
Truman Show his whole life, watch the demonstration
And that’s one way of fuckin’ the world, no penetration
Don’t know what to make of you
The Six Sense's sequel in life form but way more than Unbreakable

[Outro]
The game of the super groups been shake right now, my nigga
That’s right Parks, let me talk my shit before we go up
Alright Parks I guess that’s enough shit talking
Y’all know, right?

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