"0 Boys (feat. Joe Budden, Joell Ortiz, Royce Da 5'9", Slaughterhouse and Yelawolf)"

Told you

(Royce da 5'9')

Ryanís a homicidal misfit
I write the solution to biophysics
On the side of a cliff in some hieroglyphics
This my admission to having violent psychotic
Quick devour polish it, politics
By the way Iím higher than the Eiffel Tower tip
I like writiní,
but I will stick this pencil in your ass before I bite your shit
Pause, inhaliní hella kush
Us and Yelawolf like a heavy foot gas pedal push
Felons, crooks, goiní door-to-door like we selliní books
Dolly Parton style, melons mushed
Now my bitch a dancer, Iím íbout as sick as cancer
If you could swallow my style, youíd probíly rip your pants off
If you could bottle my style and sell it to somebody
It probílyíll smell like cologne made out of bits of panther
They call me Anchorman, I hold down the ship
Leave you niggas floatiní in water, then go and drown a fish
Fuck, Iím fuckiní heinous, I make you fuckiní famous
Them lead showers is cominí, fuck is you sayiní?


Fuck, itís fuckiní raininí! Shit, thereís lightning!
Bitch, itís thunderiní, ícause Iím hustliní up a storm if you wonderiní
Shit (Shit), you couldnít muster up enough thought
To take a dump during a brain fart, jump if you want
Urine in your face, all you had to do was say
That you wish you wouldíve just stayed pissed off in the first place
We came to monopolize the game, Illuminati is here
Yeah, human oddities, at odds with us, your squadís gotta be
ĎCause we started out cold in a snowball, we froze
Soon as we rolled up on these hoes, allís we know
Is yíall lowered like bar like limbo, you know who you are
So quit fuckiní the dog Ďfore we start calliní you bizarre
Shit, screw the pooch? Yíall done raped a pit bull
Fell in love with the shih-tzu, this missileís directed directly at you
And this for these hoes who donít know me from a can of paint
You must be huffiní, fuck a ballsack, if the taints cainít
Take you on a date, you mistake me for a gentleman
You 2000 and late, man, and Will I ainít, Iím the bad guy
Type of guy thatíll drag five girls up on stage
Pour ice in their pants, and the first one who pees gets a black eye


Must be outta your mind, you think you fuckiní with us
Suck on these nuts, bitch, hang it up, this game is over

(Joell Ortiz)

Puffiní loosies, watchiní I Love Lucy with Gary Busey
(Crazy!) How the fuck could you son me? (Iím Shady!)
Will there ever come a day when they could slay me?
I donít know, fifth month, black and yellow insect, maybe
ĎTil then I kill the bad man tryna slay me
Everything you kick weak, your spit kung fugazi (Hi-ya!)
All my homeboys, 2.0 Boys
Nickle, I just picked up a Phantom, look how it rolls, Royce!
Even if I wanted to quit, I ainít got no choice
Verses keep cominí, I should invoice my own voice
You should see the kind of asses that my pole hoist
Hoes be like diamonds in your chain, man, so moist
Bang bang, bang bang, House Gang, chainsaw
Here to kill you pussies, donít ask what we came for
I write ítil my right arm veins sore
Forearm feel like Thorís arm in a gang war
You hear that (YAOWA), you know who finna file out
Definitively finish you, my fist stick out that eyeball
Piranha mentality wití a Jaws bite all night
Cominí up, never saw light, but never lost sight

(Joe Budden)

Jets and movers, cesspoolers, meth abusers
You step to us, text Rugers to respect the shooters
My men think in sync, roll with the best crew
Move to the beat of the same drum without Lex Luger
Welcome to Nayhood, big in the Ďjects, G
Cheated death multiple times without rigginí the deck
So Iím well-prepped if you just want war
Thereíll be blood everywhere, you be layiní on the Louboutin floor
Itís raw, you keepiní actiní like you donít know Mouse, nigga
And you goní need the best doctors, House, nigga
Guard your jewels and avoid large tools
ĎCause after I spill you at the light, you be in a car pool
Keep your distance from idiots, ícause the truth told
They food for thoughtís rotten, they gems are foolís gold
Need results from my actions, mistakes Iíll exonerate
Iím Martin King stariní at a picture of Obamaís face
Talkiní funds, niggas ainít never seen stock
I donít need the key to the game, I pick a mean lock

Must be outta your mind, you think you fuckiní with us
Suck on these nuts, bitch, hang it up, this game is over

(Crooked I)

You invited inside of the mind of a psychotic rhymer
Iím kind of a (Dahmer!), Iím grindiní up rappers
Iím lininí up jackers, Iím climbiní up ladders
I buy enough clappers to retire you factors, fire at drama
You liars and actors, Iím the genuine article
But read me wrong, get my gun and split you to particles
(The gold hand) Tell me when and Iím there
Not only heir to the throne, but my chair is suspended in air
Stay fly like a limited fare
You got us pegged wrong, my circle donít fit in with squares
I smell shit and piss, know where itís cominí from
You stepped on number two just to be number one
Now Iíma step on you, bring it to yoí yard
Bogart for arts, we go hard
You frauds just blow hard like broads, I coast guard the west
Iím Mozart, I compose dark shit with no heart


I got no Jim Beam in the liver
Gettiní head like clean clippers,
wití haters on my dick like a jeans zipper
When I throw up 16s like I drink liqour
You think you seen sick? Well, bitch, you ainít seen sicker
Then Iíll crack, and then Iíll hop around in a hospital gown
Poppiní the trunk, my pumper stay cockiní the round
I shit logs and I piss river brown
ĎCause I drink creek water and spit the river Nile
And thatís as close as I get to a pyramid
Shit, they think Iím Illuminati, so fuckiní ignorant
Sick with a grin, here with this pen, so innocent
But when you win, they say you a sin, but in the end
They jump on the bandwagon and dance to the band playiní
Skinny-ass pants sagginí, itís only yourself you playiní
Call me a clown, but you love where the clownís hanginí
And the freakshowís at the county carnival, then you payiní
Bitch, Iím on a trapeze with no legs in the dark
Yelliní ďGo Shady!Ē Driviní slower than an old lady
In an old í89, no piece if you pay me
Gimme peace sign on my grill, no Mercedes
Iím gettiní paid for these shows that I throw lately
Same shows a year ago woulda broken most of you crazies
They call me crazy ícause I made it
Bitch, you crazy ícause you quit, look at my clique lately
You ainít fuckiní wití Budden, you ainít got no choice with Royce
You donít wanna see the Crooked I, well, listen to Ortiz voice
That dirt road hit the 8 Mile, the Point-Oh Boys
And if Marshall want me to clap, then, homie, I deploy
Game over


(Yo, I donít think they heard you, tell Ďem again)

Game over