Champion

Album cover art for "Champion" by Slaughterhouse

Slaughterhouse - Rap

Champion

2 Plays

View Artist

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz] I start this record, not knowing how Imma start this record This that drop-out hood talk with the Harvard effort Hear me out, you niggas got a second, your boy is unsteady I'm tired of talking already And I ain't said shit, but here goes My life is hectic, my mother's a diabetic, her sugar be high, I'm headed To doctors with her to fire questions, I hope the replying message ain't dialysis I'm cry and let it out, my mother die, forget it I'll fire shots and get it in for every lying shot of insulin and keep my finger itching for that finger prick Because stupid ass, wack ass gadget that kept her finger dripping blood Me and my moms was different in that kitchen smoking bud cause she ain't want me outside rolling them while cops is outside rolling Couldn't see her boy behind them bars She said 'boy, your whole life gon change behind them bars Or sixteens or whatever yall call them, my boy's a star' I do so much praying, I've been hurting my knees How such a sweet lady, gets such a hurtful disease I guess for sweet ladies, this is the perfect disease But please don't take my mommy God, please just be her bodyguard I'll lose it if she's gone, definitely won't be doing music while I mourn Probably end up doing something stupid, don't respond The thought of it got me staring at this Ruger And guess who's the person I would use it on You've been warned God! I hope you listening close, you take Michelle from me And you'll be getting us both I know suicide is a sin, but let me grab that pound and just fire it in Either that or stick around and die within Or you can make her better... Said you can make her better Why won't you make her better, I know she can't live forever I just need a lil more time for us to play together She my best friend [Verse 2: Royce Da 5'9"] I asked "was it all a dream?" at the start of this Cause now I'm sitting inside of an Alcoholic Anonymous meeting being the farthest thing from anonymous I'm thinking that the game kind of ill Seems like yesterday we signed a deal We all signed our names on the same dollar bill and agreed it was time to kill And then I did a project on the side with Marshall that took off and then I did a million-dollar spiral down a hill Guess all a player that's eating can do is say his grace And you niggas that's judging me should stay away Cause if our roles were reversed you niggas would probably throw your soul in the dirt for a tweet from Drayaface Niggas take you to court when they can't extort Just cause' you came through in a Porsche they can't import You either understand my pain or you ain't important My nigga Joey told me "everybody changes and everybody's pain just ain't being recorded" and I thank you for it We might as well since we never had the opportunity to do it in front of you and just thank the awards (Nigga fuck the awards) I'm grabbing the wheel of my career in my bare hands and Standing there while they're dancing Resembling some shit out the good book Spit out by the gods of rap While they prayer answering This ain't no braggadocio rap This that go away and come back again You can put loyalty in front of everything and somebody will come around you and go make that an acronym A lot of questions I ain't answer Mostly just n**gas crying about they finances Bitches must be on some PCP shit Fake pregnancy shit Having they friend push on the EPT stick To eat free Uh uh, But ya'll tripping I'm already having alcoholic withdrawal symptoms Hands shaking too much to handshake It was all a dream when I first started this [Verse 3: KXNG Crooked] All I wanted to be was the illest nigga to spit it Live it and give it to you vivid In exchange, I'd be the realest nigga invented That was really a nigga's incentive to pen sentences So all of my niggas serving pen sentences can feel it Not just the Lou' Vuitton, red bottom rocking niggas The top ramen pot, downtrodden, forgetten niggas You new slaves don't get it You cotton-picking niggas, wait a cotton picking minute Selling out just to be a cash earner So rap's Sojourners and rap's Nat Turners get pushed to the back burner I'm a fast learner, I see what going on man Yeah yeah yeah, I see what's going on Yeah, that green shit got you weaker than Clark Kent Banned from ya hood so you creeping in dark tint It's secret, meanwhile the g's keep it, one hunnid Even when sitting on more green than a park bench This is a story about a dying culture Hip-hop ain't dead but I can see all of the flying vultures Art of war, this is the war of art And your world'll be over just like the Mayans told ya Album flopped, you can't pay your mortgage or Watching your shit get auctioned off on Storage Wars You forgot that you was poor before and you can't take it Begging door to door like "Por favor?" One hit wonders die, you was in tune Now your future's is in a sarcophagus, entombed End doomed, out of luck, now you handing niggas napkins at the hottest club in the men's room They wipe they hands with your career, nigga That's what you get cause you was in fear, nigga Wolf tickets you was selling the youth Dr. Cornel West said niggas die for telling the truth And even my mama knew it Said, "Dom don't do it Don't want you shot up in a box, filled with embalming fluid" I wonder if Dr. Khalid Muhammed knew it After his brain aneurysm He tried to save the world like Noah's ark Cause black muhfuckas be some wack muhf- [Outro: KXNG Crooked] Don't stop the music! Till I stop talking...

Rate this song

Rate this song

0/5.0 - 0 Ratings

5
0.0% (0)
4
0.0% (0)
3
0.0% (0)
2
0.0% (0)
1
0.0% (0)

Loading comments...

Credits

Writers
  • Joell Ortiz
  • Royce Da 5'9"
  • KXNG Crooked
  • Slaughterhouse