Sound Off

One two three four five six seven eight

I'm hungry like I never ate

Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate

All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak

Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married

Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date

I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate

Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate

{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme

Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine

And I'm right behind the big guy that shines

All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind

C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but my clique

Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I put my, money on my clique

Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth

You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things

Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans

The West treat me like I'm really king

I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen

You rappers dressin like you finna sing "Billie Jean"

I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene

You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing

Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine

Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling

I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam

I'll put your pad on your property fag

Properly rob you and hop in the Jag

If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin

Your body'll rock a colostomy bag

Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad

Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad

Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin

Clock runnin out and the outcome bad

Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team

Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam

Sleep on that and get killed while you dream

Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine

Slaughterhouse a regime

I'm gooned up if you know what I mean

Everybody wanna be down with the king

No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but my clique

Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I put my, money on my clique

Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth

My one goal's to astonish

Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress

They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest

I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished

They still makin threats on your highness

But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass

I think all your mans' Play-Doh

I don't buy that movie "Fandango"

Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel

Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL

Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all

College kids like Asher Roth

Y'all just trying to put food on the table

And I'mma just come and try snatch it off

If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily

But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy

Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me

I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die

Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try

Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise

Best bet's to attempt to fly

Shit's a gang, you down you in for life

Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize

Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes

So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but my clique

Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I fuck with, nothin but gangstas

Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)

I put my, money on my clique

Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth