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Loud Noises

This song is by Bad Meets Evil, features Slaughterhouse and appears on the EP Hell: The Sequel (2011).

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(Intro: Brick Tamland)
Loud noises!

(Verse 1: Eminem)
Life handed me lemons, I jump back into the public eye
And squirted lemon juice in it by now you just wish I'd fucking die
But I electrify, get electrocuted, executed by an executioner
Of my flow too quick for the human eye to detect zooming by
Guess who, what's happening guys? They told me to shit
I fell off that pot hoped right back up on that crapper and I
Said fuck you with a capital I, look who's back to antagonize
You don't like it? You can eat shit, fuck off little faggot and die
You right back like a maggot on my dick grabbing at my shit better get to the back
Of the line, нou wanna get your shot at me what kinda crap is that battle
What kind of rapper would I be before I let another rapper think he's hot
I'll bury my face in his stinky twat and go...
Go 'head, space is limited, ain't even room in the back of my mind
That's why I ain't thinking about you, I don't got time and I told you a thousand times
So how can I find the time to put an alkaline battery in Royce's back
And at the same time put juice in mine? Goddammit Slaughterhouse is signed


(Verse 2: Crooked I)
I'm a menace villain, my pen is sitting spilling, my livers killing
Then I let you witness shit when it hit the ceiling
The niggas willing to give the listeners the sickest feeling
Like mixing some Benadryl and penicillin then I'm filling the clip
With a written, can you picture my pistol drilling?
A million women and children when I'm illing but it isn't real, it's a rap
On the real, it's a wrap, how could you possibly stop the Apocalypse
When I'm atomic bombing the populous
Shock the metropolis hostile as a kid popping the Glock at his moms
And his pops then he hops in his drop with his iPod rocking the Slaughterish
Documentation and lyrics I write with confidence
Write like a columnist slash novelist
I'm in this game to demolish, establish my dominance
Over prominent rappers you popping shit till you opposite
I can spit ominous so spit politics now I'm Haile Selassie
Gandhi and Pac of this hip hop genre, bitch


(Verse 3: Royce)
Lyrically I'm a cocaine Altoid
Ability to bring (?) it's a no brain bout boy
Physically I'm literally a cocaine cowboy, wait-wait
Did I just go almost four bars without talking about my big dick?
The other day me and your thick bitch had a great day and we ate cake
And then we walked and then she tried to jack me off but she lost
'Cause she couldn't handle my shit, wait I sweared, irony of Ryan
Is I am bipolar while I'm rhyming standing beside a big old white bear
Neither one of us fight fair, you are literally looking at Woody and Wesley
In a movie with a white boy ain't got to jump no where 'cause I'm here
Nigga I'm on fire yeah and I'm every bitch's dream
One, two I'm coming for you, I'm a big old nightmare
Nigga this the slaughter stepping up
I'll pretty much slap your ass and tell you to shut the fuck up
After that I'll slap your ass again and tell you to shut the fuck up shutting up
And that's how you body a fucking beat


(Verse 4: Joell Ortiz)
I should be the one that goes slow... nah, get a stopwatch, clock my flow
Hit the button on top, watch the jaw drop, oh-oh, that's that
Aww Yaowa, when I drop I go outta space
Blackout like Darth Vader's face, placed in a molten shower
Say something and get them proper mama poppa pouring out vodka
Mama Mia, Em pass me the seeds in this Slaughterhouse casa
Better yet boy go home, better yet boy G4 Chrome, better jet boy
Mark Sanchez, Santanio Holmes, I'm not just any old homeboy
Sitting in a lab picking up a pad
I be spitting bad, I'mma get you mad with this gift I have
Lord duck sufferin succotash when the trigger blast
I'mma put your beak on your fitted hat
Where the liquor at? Sip of yak that bitch and a vicious track (?)
Sly Pro tools to boast Joe smooth I coast to the West like we're tired of living at
New York here's a piggyback ride to the motherland, hold on brotherman, on the other hand
Get down, I'm gutter fam, gun butt you with the Eagle handle Cunningham
I don't wanna talk, I just wanna beef, I don't want a piece, I want it all baby boy
I don't wanna eat, I wanna feast up (?) rough piece of shit, you done weak, I'm the one, capiche?

(Verse 5: Joe Budden)
Insane what they call us, ain't married to the game
But you probably shouldn't have came to the altar
Every bar like propane for the sawed-off, using (?) to forge you
Eminent Mr. Porter, slaughter my sentiments imminent torture
All of you feminine marauders, that's women at war
Men will assault ya, Tommy's and bats that resemble Lasorda
Kidnap your trembling daughter, at least a quarter
I'm administering supporters, got an aura more like Sodom and Gomorrah
Normally something's wrong with me
Claiming a quantity of the porn I see on the pause to me
When I fix the game they'll think shit came with a warranty
How the fuck are they gonna stop what I was born to be, corner me, shit belong to me
Two choices, you can get along with me or sit your faggot ass right there in dormancy
Wait, all you missing is heels to be RuPaul
Ain't nobody that's real ever knew y'all
Second to none and I'm dealing with Marshall
This time I never come down, deal with the blue balls
You ain't gotta fear me but you'll respect me
Niggas who never met me threaten me, want to gillete me
Why don't you let me come (?) I got some machetes
Swinging spaghetti like it's heavy some said he deserve an ESPY
In a Chevy like Andretti, put the Dezzy where his chest be


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