Текст песни: The Warriors + перевод

Check the scene boppers

Slaughterhouse, still standing

There was a murder last night

And the shit didn’t really sit right with me

So I had to tell a story, ohh, baby!

Blood on the walls, street life

America’s worst nightmare, ahead by light years

Hip hop’s only shining star in the night’s air

Right here, don’t fight fair, what I write, yeah

Might there, throw 'em off like they Bobby Knight’s chair

I been where you tryna be, I’m already hot

All about cake, Betty Crock' and spit ready rock

They know my bar came venom in a bezzie rock

Kicks from Fight Club, outfit from Eddie Brock

I’m going for the kill, focused on a steady plot

John Wilkes the Booth like when he dead aimed his nezzie shot

You listening to hip hop’s finest

You rewind this, Slaughterhouse behind this

I like rap, this shit is cool, I’m better than mad niggas

But I’m just as good a crack pitcher as a pad ripper

I say that to say this, don’t let mad liquor

Turn me to a bodybag zipper and not a ad-libber

Couple joints ago I was right on that ave with ya

Mad bigger than the catch David Tyree had last winter

I’m not a made-up character, that’s a Puerto Rican Brooklynite

With two kids y’all see in them mag pictures

And however I gotta feed 'em I will

All they ever gon' need in life is just, me and my will

Interfere with that it’s gon' be more than a beat that I kill

Disrespect with an indirect and you will see if I’m real

Fuck you blood-sucking parasites

I’m bringing the terror right in front of your parents' sight

You parents' eyes and yeah, I wear a pair of pipes

I wear 'em like cellulite on a pair of thighs

I’m Eric Wright, I’m Ruthless, I terrorize

You’ll either perish or be paralyzed, I’m a thousand degrees Fahrenheit

I’m even keeping them heaters when we perform

On stage rocking like we from Korn, the people roar

What they don’t know it’s a secret war

Inside of a rider I’m seeking revenge on the world for bein born!

And the desert eagle is mi amor, she’ll fuck you to death

Blow your brains, either or cause she a whore

Allow me to reassure your stripe’s worthless

Like a pair of Diadora’s when it leaves the Adidas store

Don’t be comparing us to rappers

Compare us to the Arabs, this a terrorist attack, uh, boom!

Lord have mercy, we here to destroy everything

You niggas is butter in front a fucking machete swing

Mothafucka I’m fly, I ain’t no scary goon

Try me and I guarantee you I’mma see you very soon

Leave a nigga ass out like Prince, take his bitch

Put my Graffiti Bridge right Under Her Cherry Moon

We notorious, pushing them Porsches

Y’all niggas the orphans — us? We the warriors

Ohh, wait a minute boppers

Royce, slow it down baby

This rap shit is a workout on my legs

A nigga going hard on his bike but too many dudes is jumping on the pegs

They know when that raw shit get recorded

Either let your speakers enforce it or lay down in a moshpit

Of course it’s the bosses, acting like officers

Running in these corporate offices

Hungry looking for a four-course dish no matter what the cost is

Like the world’s lawless so we don’t know what remorse is

Cause the V need like a thousand horses

Slaughterhouse hoodie on, that’s my new couture shit

It’s Jumpoff! He be the best

Computers rank me number one, blame the BCS, it’s they fault

Ask about your boy, I’m nice with my hands

Maybe that’s why, every last thing I write is a jam

Minus the fans, the flights to Japan, I am the man

Anyone who feel they could see me is in dire need of a eye exam

My mind expands wider than the fanbase of a fire band

And what I release from my diaphragm, sticks to you

Like the wrists of Spiderman, fool a average listeners

What you liars can do but you will die a scam

When I die they will retire my entire hand

For years of scripted whoop-ass, making intruders try a can

I guess the moral of the story is Joell’s victorious

And everything’s all gravy like Notorious

I left a nigga dead cause he said he was ready for I

Let the Beretta give him wings since he said he was fly

I’m in my Chevy riding to «Bar Exam» and «Mood Muzik»

They the closest to «Reasonable Doubt» and «Ready to Die»

Crooked I, watch for snitches and wire devices

My 45th, fire in crisis, lift you higher than prices

All my ice, and on the mic, I am the nicest

Me and my bitch ride for life like Osirus and Isis

Yeah, word to Run-D.M.C. I’m Tougher Than Leather-face

Never threw a gun in the trash but they call me Weapon Waist

It’s like you moving from the projects to the Hamptons

The way my hammers be sending bastards to a better place

Let me set it straight, they fans been led astray

Niggas keep gassing with guns with unleaded spray

They don’t know they one flow, one medic away

From being taken away from here in the leaded state

I handle all of my serious issues with metal

I stick you so deep in the earth your zipper can tickle the devil

I’m skipping the pick and the shovel, I’m picking you up

And I’m shoving your head in the mud 'til your kickings is level

Pardon I live for the moment, you rhymin I give the atonement

Like the Indians, I scalp and I wig the opponent

But I’m a chief, matter fact I’m a beast

I’m a mothafuckin' Slaughterhouse G, boom!