Sito Ufficiale
Italiano di Eminem

Testo Y´all Ready Know


Yo, yo, yo

This your man Royce Da 5'9"

This your dude Crooked I

Man, Jump off Joe Beezy

Yaowa – It's Joell Ortiz

[Hook: Joell Ortiz]

Ya'll ready, ya'll ready, y'all ready know, Slaughterhouse

[Verse 1: Joell Ortiz]

Little niggas get your weight up fuck y'all, pay up

My bars just as slick as my dick and both stay up

Nicer than me, say what? Wait up, straight up

I finish niggas right off the bat like a layup

I seen a lot of come, I seen a lot of go

But y'all know where I'm from, B-R double O

You know the rest pimpin', yeah, I was bred different

Here come pops with the NY bop, you know, the leg limpin'

My ice mug frozen till it's stiff

Grimy nigga, might wanna hold onto your bitch

I got a way with women, I faithfully play with women

Let 'em suck on this bottle and pray that I throw a baby in 'em

I might just throw on my gold fronts

Pour up a cup of E & J and light up a dro blunt

I was never soft, never saw me flinchin' when they lettin' off

Never had to retaliate cause I set it off


[Verse 2: Royce Da 5'9]

Ya'll know my name, bitch, never change up my language

I'm just a rich nigga from a city that's bankrupt

First we take oath, then I'm pulling turquoise strings

In my Lebron corks, in Turks and Caicos

I came from wicker chair fame wearin' short sets

I learned that money can't buy happiness

But I decided I'd rather do all my cryin' in the Corvette

Make a dollar, buy a suit

Have a child, and have 'em follow suit

Wavin' that weather change thing

Make the winter fall, coming through with everything to lose

Taking everything from you know

Let him finish his fall in his draws

And pray that he land on that minute hand in my Hublot

I'm about that Art Of War gospel

That Basquiat Picasso drawing a roscoe

Using the blood of a usual thug who was told die slow

Your money on me, bet it all, you know I'mma set it off


[Verse 3: Joe Budden]

Let's skip the small talk and get right to the wealth

Truth is I give a fuck, but it's right to myself

Fuck fame, keep the shit I write to myself

If what I do is therapeutic, man, the slightest shit helps

Made angel dust my freshman year

Gave it a try, cool, little did I knew

Had the wrong meaning of high school

Teachers called him a sociopath and a liar

Fuck them, only went to class for the cyphers

Now I'm gettin' bills for

The same thinking they tried to prescribe pills for

They said I needed a wrench, I'm a loose screw

Vital, suicidal, said I would kill me or more

Wasn't speakin' in French, said I'd let it off

Never know who or what you might get

Main reason they never want me to set it off

You now dealing with four niggas that's never off

All bets off, so nah, you won't be better off


[Verse 4: Crooked I]

Jewish tats on my arm like a Semitic boss

Egyptian art hanging, that's my Kemetic cross

Slaughterhouse set it off

Even got bitches wavin' our flag, Betsy Ross

Old school Chevy, the head is off

Decapitated Impala

Heavy 'lac from the weight of the llama

Still bear arms like a shaven koala

How you thinkin' like a faded neurology student

Is prudent when chasin' a dollar

So never mind, a clever rhyme

I'd rather find a better grind, forever times

Sittin' behind me because I'm ahead of mine

In this era I'm livin' outside of the paradigm

I'm comin' outside with a pair of dimes

Sharon and Caroline

Share a line then they share a 9 inch, never mind

I probably shouldn't even keep going

Cause these rappers keep hoein' with their teeth showing

I set it off



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