[{"id":1032910,"name":"Microphone","trackName":"Microphone","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse","duration":283.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\nYeah, yeah\nToo many Indians and no chiefs\nI pull out the pistol when I pull no piece\nI'm the blueprint, I have your clothes\nLookin' like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\nWhen I bless a joint, it's like Spock\nCame up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\nI got the voc' in touch\nI tell my bitch I'ma, give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\nToo many enemies and no killers\nToo many that hate snitchin' but know squealers\nI get stacks (stacks)\nI blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\nI spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\nY'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\nSo who's the illest, what you talkin 'bout?\n(Die Hard) like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\nToo many hood guys, not enough good guys\nThe way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\nI don't be fuckin' around on that microphone\nWhen I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\nThe illest nigga that's holdin' that microphone\nI put my heart and my soul in that microphone\nI put it down on that (microphone)\nTurn up the motherfuckin' sound on that microphone\nBut turn it down if you weak on that microphone\nLame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\nMy ultrasounds show me holdin' a microphone\nThat's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\nGroupies love Crooked I on the microphone\nLike James Brown I'ma die on the microphone\nToo many rappers need to leave this mic alone\nThey on the same bullshit that Mike was on\nYou're lookin' at the unseen, missin' and to the unheard\nI kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\nYou're verbally flirtin' with murder, you got some nerve\nI lift your skirt like a young perv, knock 'em out!\nWe the mob, homie who need a job?\nPlus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\nToo many in this industry I need to rob\nAnd if eatin' niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\nFuck props, nigga this a different conquest\nListen this hear me spittin' think it's a pissing contest\nI'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\nThey better off usin' a fishin' pole to reel in the Lock Ness\nYes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\nYou lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\nI'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\nDon't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\nI turn a father to a son on that microphone\nI'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\nAnd tell his are's I don't need no microphone\nToo many critics tend to be silly\nToo many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\nI get it poppin like a ineen milli{?}\nNow I'm havin' a whale of a good time, I'm a (Free Willy)\nY'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\nFans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\nNone of you kids spit evenly\nYou body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin' me\nHa ha, too many fantasies and no fame\nToo many claimin' insanity and they so sane\nLess than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\nRappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\nYour career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\nIn any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\nToo many monkey see, monkey doers\nI slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\nNiggaz know I get it in on that microphone\nY'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\nI don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\nA pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\nDecide who you wan' be on that microphone\nI see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\nToo many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\nKilled the web, it don't matter what site you on\nSave his mouth 'fore he's runnin' off\nI tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a fuck how I come across\nAll these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\nGun go off, havin' like a good show, just spun 'em off\nTreat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\nThey mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\nToo many dogs, not enough barkin' yet\nToo many blueprints, not enough architects\nRhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\nFuck record sales or who the machine markets best\nI'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\nI'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\nToo many frontin' like y'all that fly\nReach it, cause we set the bar that high (fool)\nI don't be fuckin' around on that microphone\nYou lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\nYou lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\nNiggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\"","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.38] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n[00:06.81] Yeah, yeah\n[00:08.02] Too many Indians and no chiefs\n[00:13.63] I pull out the pistol when I pull no piece\n[00:16.85] I'm the blueprint, I have your clothes\n[00:18.31] Lookin' like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n[00:21.31] When I bless a joint, it's like Spock\n[00:23.51] Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n[00:26.68] I got the voc' in touch\n[00:28.04] I tell my bitch I'ma, give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n[00:31.95] Too many enemies and no killers\n[00:34.69] Too many that hate snitchin' but know squealers\n[00:37.77] I get stacks (stacks)\n[00:38.90] I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n[00:42.58] I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n[00:45.14] Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n[00:47.81] So who's the illest, what you talkin 'bout?\n[00:50.38] (Die Hard) like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n[00:53.11] Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n[00:55.72] The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n[00:58.73] I don't be fuckin' around on that microphone\n[01:01.31] When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n[01:03.91] The illest nigga that's holdin' that microphone\n[01:07.35] I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n[01:09.67] I put it down on that (microphone)\n[01:11.72] Turn up the motherfuckin' sound on that microphone\n[01:14.47] But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n[01:17.46] Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[01:20.12] My ultrasounds show me holdin' a microphone\n[01:22.65] That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n[01:25.50] Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n[01:27.92] Like James Brown I'ma die on the microphone\n[01:30.57] Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n[01:33.06] They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n[01:35.76] You're lookin' at the unseen, missin' and to the unheard\n[01:38.98] I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n[01:41.41] You're verbally flirtin' with murder, you got some nerve\n[01:44.03] I lift your skirt like a young perv, knock 'em out!\n[01:46.74] We the mob, homie who need a job?\n[01:49.07] Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n[01:51.73] Too many in this industry I need to rob\n[01:54.20] And if eatin' niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n[01:57.20] Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n[01:59.82] Listen this hear me spittin' think it's a pissing contest\n[02:02.56] I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n[02:04.91] They better off usin' a fishin' pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n[02:07.52] Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n[02:10.71] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[02:13.24] You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n[02:15.85] I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n[02:18.62] Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n[02:21.30] I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n[02:24.07] I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n[02:26.63] And tell his are's I don't need no microphone\n[02:29.89] Too many critics tend to be silly\n[02:32.06] Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n[02:34.65] I get it poppin like a ineen milli{?}\n[02:37.46] Now I'm havin' a whale of a good time, I'm a (Free Willy)\n[02:39.93] Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n[02:42.64] Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n[02:45.39] None of you kids spit evenly\n[02:47.62] You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin' me\n[02:50.68] Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n[02:53.44] Too many claimin' insanity and they so sane\n[02:56.09] Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n[02:58.45] Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n[03:01.39] Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n[03:03.83] In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n[03:07.17] Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n[03:09.34] I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n[03:12.00] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[03:14.82] Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n[03:17.26] I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n[03:20.03] A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n[03:22.62] Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n[03:25.45] I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n[03:28.44] Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n[03:30.84] Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n[03:33.47] Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin' off\n[03:35.51] I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a fuck how I come across\n[03:38.42] All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n[03:40.27] Gun go off, havin' like a good show, just spun 'em off\n[03:44.06] Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n[03:46.44] They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n[03:49.03] Too many dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n[03:52.00] Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n[03:54.51] Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n[03:56.90] Fuck record sales or who the machine markets best\n[04:00.26] I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n[04:02.66] I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n[04:05.80] Too many frontin' like y'all that fly\n[04:07.91] Reach it, cause we set the bar that high (fool)\n[04:10.59] I don't be fuckin' around on that microphone\n[04:13.54] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[04:16.04] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[04:18.69] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[04:21.22] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\"","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse\n  duration_ms: 283000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]'\n  start_ms: 1380\n  end_ms: 6810\n- text: Yeah, yeah\n  start_ms: 6810\n  end_ms: 8020\n- text: Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  start_ms: 8020\n  end_ms: 13630\n- text: I pull out the pistol when I pull no piece\n  start_ms: 13630\n  end_ms: 16850\n- text: I'm the blueprint, I have your clothes\n  start_ms: 16850\n  end_ms: 18310\n- text: Lookin' like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  start_ms: 18310\n  end_ms: 21310\n- text: When I bless a joint, it's like Spock\n  start_ms: 21310\n  end_ms: 23510\n- text: Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  start_ms: 23510\n  end_ms: 26680\n- text: I got the voc' in touch\n  start_ms: 26680\n  end_ms: 28040\n- text: I tell my bitch I'ma, give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 28040\n  end_ms: 31950\n- text: Too many enemies and no killers\n  start_ms: 31950\n  end_ms: 34690\n- text: Too many that hate snitchin' but know squealers\n  start_ms: 34690\n  end_ms: 37770\n- text: I get stacks (stacks)\n  start_ms: 37770\n  end_ms: 38900\n- text: I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  start_ms: 38900\n  end_ms: 42580\n- text: I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  start_ms: 42580\n  end_ms: 45140\n- text: Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  start_ms: 45140\n  end_ms: 47810\n- text: So who's the illest, what you talkin 'bout?\n  start_ms: 47810\n  end_ms: 50380\n- text: (Die Hard) like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  start_ms: 50380\n  end_ms: 53110\n- text: Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  start_ms: 53110\n  end_ms: 55720\n- text: The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  start_ms: 55720\n  end_ms: 58730\n- text: I don't be fuckin' around on that microphone\n  start_ms: 58730\n  end_ms: 61310\n- text: When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  start_ms: 61310\n  end_ms: 63910\n- text: The illest nigga that's holdin' that microphone\n  start_ms: 63910\n  end_ms: 67350\n- text: I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  start_ms: 67350\n  end_ms: 69670\n- text: I put it down on that (microphone)\n  start_ms: 69670\n  end_ms: 71720\n- text: Turn up the motherfuckin' sound on that microphone\n  start_ms: 71720\n  end_ms: 74470\n- text: But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 74470\n  end_ms: 77460\n- text: Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 77460\n  end_ms: 80120\n- text: My ultrasounds show me holdin' a microphone\n  start_ms: 80120\n  end_ms: 82650\n- text: That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  start_ms: 82650\n  end_ms: 85500\n- text: Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  start_ms: 85500\n  end_ms: 87920\n- text: Like James Brown I'ma die on the microphone\n  start_ms: 87920\n  end_ms: 90570\n- text: Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  start_ms: 90570\n  end_ms: 93060\n- text: They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  start_ms: 93060\n  end_ms: 95760\n- text: You're lookin' at the unseen, missin' and to the unheard\n  start_ms: 95760\n  end_ms: 98980\n- text: I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  start_ms: 98980\n  end_ms: 101410\n- text: You're verbally flirtin' with murder, you got some nerve\n  start_ms: 101410\n  end_ms: 104030\n- text: I lift your skirt like a young perv, knock 'em out!\n  start_ms: 104030\n  end_ms: 106740\n- text: We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  start_ms: 106740\n  end_ms: 109070\n- text: Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  start_ms: 109070\n  end_ms: 111730\n- text: Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  start_ms: 111730\n  end_ms: 114200\n- text: And if eatin' niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  start_ms: 114200\n  end_ms: 117200\n- text: Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  start_ms: 117200\n  end_ms: 119820\n- text: Listen this hear me spittin' think it's a pissing contest\n  start_ms: 119820\n  end_ms: 122560\n- text: I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  start_ms: 122560\n  end_ms: 124910\n- text: They better off usin' a fishin' pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  start_ms: 124910\n  end_ms: 127520\n- text: Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  start_ms: 127520\n  end_ms: 130710\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 130710\n  end_ms: 133240\n- text: You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  start_ms: 133240\n  end_ms: 135850\n- text: I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  start_ms: 135850\n  end_ms: 138620\n- text: Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  start_ms: 138620\n  end_ms: 141300\n- text: I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  start_ms: 141300\n  end_ms: 144070\n- text: I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  start_ms: 144070\n  end_ms: 146630\n- text: And tell his are's I don't need no microphone\n  start_ms: 146630\n  end_ms: 149890\n- text: Too many critics tend to be silly\n  start_ms: 149890\n  end_ms: 152060\n- text: Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  start_ms: 152060\n  end_ms: 154650\n- text: I get it poppin like a ineen milli{?}\n  start_ms: 154650\n  end_ms: 157460\n- text: Now I'm havin' a whale of a good time, I'm a (Free Willy)\n  start_ms: 157460\n  end_ms: 159930\n- text: Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  start_ms: 159930\n  end_ms: 162640\n- text: Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  start_ms: 162640\n  end_ms: 165390\n- text: None of you kids spit evenly\n  start_ms: 165390\n  end_ms: 167620\n- text: You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin' me\n  start_ms: 167620\n  end_ms: 170680\n- text: Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  start_ms: 170680\n  end_ms: 173440\n- text: Too many claimin' insanity and they so sane\n  start_ms: 173440\n  end_ms: 176090\n- text: Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  start_ms: 176090\n  end_ms: 178450\n- text: Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  start_ms: 178450\n  end_ms: 181390\n- text: Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  start_ms: 181390\n  end_ms: 183830\n- text: In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  start_ms: 183830\n  end_ms: 187170\n- text: Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  start_ms: 187170\n  end_ms: 189340\n- text: I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n  start_ms: 189340\n  end_ms: 192000\n- text: Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  start_ms: 192000\n  end_ms: 194820\n- text: Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  start_ms: 194820\n  end_ms: 197260\n- text: I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  start_ms: 197260\n  end_ms: 200030\n- text: A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  start_ms: 200030\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205450\n- text: I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  start_ms: 205450\n  end_ms: 208440\n- text: Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  start_ms: 208440\n  end_ms: 210840\n- text: Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  start_ms: 210840\n  end_ms: 213470\n- text: Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin' off\n  start_ms: 213470\n  end_ms: 215510\n- text: I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a fuck how I come across\n  start_ms: 215510\n  end_ms: 218420\n- text: All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  start_ms: 218420\n  end_ms: 220270\n- text: Gun go off, havin' like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  start_ms: 220270\n  end_ms: 224060\n- text: Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  start_ms: 224060\n  end_ms: 226440\n- text: They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  start_ms: 226440\n  end_ms: 229030\n- text: Too many dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  start_ms: 229030\n  end_ms: 232000\n- text: Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  start_ms: 232000\n  end_ms: 234510\n- text: Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  start_ms: 234510\n  end_ms: 236900\n- text: Fuck record sales or who the machine markets best\n  start_ms: 236900\n  end_ms: 240260\n- text: I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  start_ms: 240260\n  end_ms: 242660\n- text: I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  start_ms: 242660\n  end_ms: 245800\n- text: Too many frontin' like y'all that fly\n  start_ms: 245800\n  end_ms: 247910\n- text: Reach it, cause we set the bar that high (fool)\n  start_ms: 247910\n  end_ms: 250590\n- text: I don't be fuckin' around on that microphone\n  start_ms: 250590\n  end_ms: 253540\n- text: You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 253540\n  end_ms: 256040\n- text: You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n  start_ms: 256040\n  end_ms: 258690\n- text: Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  start_ms: 258690\n  end_ms: 261220\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\"'\n  start_ms: 261220\nplain: |-\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n  Yeah, yeah\n  Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  I pull out the pistol when I pull no piece\n  I'm the blueprint, I have your clothes\n  Lookin' like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  When I bless a joint, it's like Spock\n  Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  I got the voc' in touch\n  I tell my bitch I'ma, give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  Too many enemies and no killers\n  Too many that hate snitchin' but know squealers\n  I get stacks (stacks)\n  I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  So who's the illest, what you talkin 'bout?\n  (Die Hard) like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  I don't be fuckin' around on that microphone\n  When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  The illest nigga that's holdin' that microphone\n  I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  I put it down on that (microphone)\n  Turn up the motherfuckin' sound on that microphone\n  But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  My ultrasounds show me holdin' a microphone\n  That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  Like James Brown I'ma die on the microphone\n  Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  You're lookin' at the unseen, missin' and to the unheard\n  I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  You're verbally flirtin' with murder, you got some nerve\n  I lift your skirt like a young perv, knock 'em out!\n  We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  And if eatin' niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  Listen this hear me spittin' think it's a pissing contest\n  I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  They better off usin' a fishin' pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  And tell his are's I don't need no microphone\n  Too many critics tend to be silly\n  Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  I get it poppin like a ineen milli{?}\n  Now I'm havin' a whale of a good time, I'm a (Free Willy)\n  Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  None of you kids spit evenly\n  You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin' me\n  Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  Too many claimin' insanity and they so sane\n  Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n  Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin' off\n  I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a fuck how I come across\n  All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  Gun go off, havin' like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  Too many dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  Fuck record sales or who the machine markets best\n  I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  Too many frontin' like y'all that fly\n  Reach it, cause we set the bar that high (fool)\n  I don't be fuckin' around on that microphone\n  You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n  Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\"\n"},{"id":21812424,"name":"Microphone","trackName":"Microphone","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse","duration":303.780279,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n\n[Royce Da 5'9\":]\nYeah, yeah...\nToo many Indians and no chiefs\nI pull out the pistol when I promote peace\nI'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\nLookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\nWhen I bless a joint - it's like Spock\nCame up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\nI got the voc' in touch\nI tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\nToo many enemies and no killers\nToo many that hate snitchin but know squealers\nI get stacks (stacks)\nI blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\nI spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\nY'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\nSo who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n+Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\nToo many hood guys, not enough good guys\nThe way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\nI don't be fuckin around on that microphone\nWhen I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\nThe illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\nI put my heart and my soul in that microphone\nI put it down on that (microphone)\nTurn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n\n[Crooked I:]\nBut turn it down if you weak on that microphone\nLame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\nMy ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\nThat's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\nGroupies love Crooked I on the microphone\nLike James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\nToo many rappers need to leave this mic alone\nThey on the same bullshit that Mike was on\nYou're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\nI kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\nYou're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\nI lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\nWe the mob, homie who need a job?\nPlus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\nToo many in this industry I need to rob\nAnd if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\nFuck props, nigga this a different conquest\nListen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\nI'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\nThey better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\nYes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n\n[Joell Ortiz:]\nYou lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\nI'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\nDon't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\nI turn a father to a son on that microphone\nI'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\nAnd tell his R's I don't need no microphone\nToo many critics tend to be silly\nToo many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\nI get it poppin like a ineen milli\nNow I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\nY'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\nFans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\nNone of you kids spit evenly\nYou body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\nHa ha, too many fantasies and no fame\nToo many claimin insanity and they so sane\nLess than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\nRappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\nYour career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\nIn any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\nToo many monkey see, monkey doers\nI slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n\n[Joe Budden:]\nNiggaz know I get it in on that microphone\nY'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\nI don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\nA pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\nDecide who you wan' be on that microphone\nI see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\nToo many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\nKilled the web, it don't matter what site you on\nSave his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\nI tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\nAll these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\nGun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\nTreat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\nThey mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\nToo many dogs, not enough barkin yet\nToo many blueprints, not enough architects\nRhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\nFUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\nI'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\nI'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\nToo many frontin like y'all that fly\nREACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n\n[Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\n\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.01] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n[00:02.36] [Royce Da 5'9\":]\n[00:02.97] Yeah, yeah...\n[00:10.99] Too many Indians and no chiefs\n[00:13.86] I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n[00:16.25] I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n[00:18.12] Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n[00:21.43] When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n[00:23.36] Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n[00:26.82] I got the voc' in touch\n[00:28.40] I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n[00:32.47] Too many enemies and no killers\n[00:34.93] Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n[00:37.52] I get stacks (stacks)\n[00:38.95] I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n[00:42.54] I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n[00:45.53] Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n[00:48.20] So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n[00:50.18] +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n[00:53.33] Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n[00:56.26] The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n[00:59.20] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[01:01.77] When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n[01:04.12] The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n[01:06.71] I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n[01:10.07] I put it down on that (microphone)\n[01:12.24] Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n[01:14.59] [Crooked I:]\n[01:15.27] But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n[01:17.42] Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[01:20.02] My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n[01:22.83] That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n[01:25.54] Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n[01:28.09] Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n[01:30.95] Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n[01:33.34] They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n[01:35.80] You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n[01:39.18] I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n[01:41.68] You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n[01:44.05] I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n[01:46.69] We the mob, homie who need a job?\n[01:48.86] Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n[01:52.10] Too many in this industry I need to rob\n[01:54.65] And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n[01:57.40] Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n[01:59.66] Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n[02:02.30] I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n[02:04.87] They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n[02:08.46] Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n[02:10.95] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[02:13.55] [Joell Ortiz:]\n[02:14.41] You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n[02:16.19] I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n[02:18.24] Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n[02:20.73] I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n[02:23.77] I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n[02:26.11] And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n[02:29.56] Too many critics tend to be silly\n[02:32.11] Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n[02:34.44] I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n[02:37.00] Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n[02:40.13] Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n[02:42.96] Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n[02:45.40] None of you kids spit evenly\n[02:47.48] You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n[02:50.71] Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n[02:53.34] Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n[02:55.99] Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n[02:58.53] Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n[03:01.40] Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n[03:03.87] In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n[03:07.30] Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n[03:09.85] I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n[03:12.12] [Joe Budden:]\n[03:12.87] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[03:14.50] Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n[03:16.97] I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n[03:19.76] A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n[03:22.62] Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n[03:25.24] I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n[03:27.94] Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n[03:30.42] Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n[03:33.27] Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n[03:35.24] I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n[03:38.25] All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n[03:40.94] Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n[03:43.95] Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n[03:46.72] They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n[03:48.95] Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n[03:52.09] Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n[03:54.53] Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n[03:57.13] FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n[03:59.79] I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n[04:02.33] I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n[04:05.50] Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n[04:07.70] REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n[04:10.29] [Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[04:12.68] [Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[04:15.55] [Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[04:18.18] [Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[04:21.23] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]\n[04:31.32] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse\n  duration_ms: 303780\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]'\n  start_ms: 1010\n  end_ms: 2360\n- text: '[Royce Da 5''9\":]'\n  start_ms: 2360\n  end_ms: 2970\n- text: Yeah, yeah...\n  start_ms: 2970\n  end_ms: 10990\n- text: Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  start_ms: 10990\n  end_ms: 13860\n- text: I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n  start_ms: 13860\n  end_ms: 16250\n- text: I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n  start_ms: 16250\n  end_ms: 18120\n- text: Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  start_ms: 18120\n  end_ms: 21430\n- text: When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n  start_ms: 21430\n  end_ms: 23360\n- text: Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  start_ms: 23360\n  end_ms: 26820\n- text: I got the voc' in touch\n  start_ms: 26820\n  end_ms: 28400\n- text: I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 28400\n  end_ms: 32470\n- text: Too many enemies and no killers\n  start_ms: 32470\n  end_ms: 34930\n- text: Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n  start_ms: 34930\n  end_ms: 37520\n- text: I get stacks (stacks)\n  start_ms: 37520\n  end_ms: 38950\n- text: I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  start_ms: 38950\n  end_ms: 42540\n- text: I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  start_ms: 42540\n  end_ms: 45530\n- text: Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  start_ms: 45530\n  end_ms: 48200\n- text: So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n  start_ms: 48200\n  end_ms: 50180\n- text: +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  start_ms: 50180\n  end_ms: 53330\n- text: Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  start_ms: 53330\n  end_ms: 56260\n- text: The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  start_ms: 56260\n  end_ms: 59200\n- text: I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  start_ms: 59200\n  end_ms: 61770\n- text: When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  start_ms: 61770\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66710\n- text: I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  start_ms: 66710\n  end_ms: 70070\n- text: I put it down on that (microphone)\n  start_ms: 70070\n  end_ms: 72240\n- text: Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n  start_ms: 72240\n  end_ms: 74590\n- text: '[Crooked I:]'\n  start_ms: 74590\n  end_ms: 75270\n- text: But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 75270\n  end_ms: 77420\n- text: Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 77420\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82830\n- text: That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  start_ms: 82830\n  end_ms: 85540\n- text: Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  start_ms: 85540\n  end_ms: 88090\n- text: Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n  start_ms: 88090\n  end_ms: 90950\n- text: Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  start_ms: 90950\n  end_ms: 93340\n- text: They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  start_ms: 93340\n  end_ms: 95800\n- text: You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n  start_ms: 95800\n  end_ms: 99180\n- text: I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  start_ms: 99180\n  end_ms: 101680\n- text: You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n  start_ms: 101680\n  end_ms: 104050\n- text: I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n  start_ms: 104050\n  end_ms: 106690\n- text: We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  start_ms: 106690\n  end_ms: 108860\n- text: Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  start_ms: 108860\n  end_ms: 112100\n- text: Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  start_ms: 112100\n  end_ms: 114650\n- text: And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  start_ms: 114650\n  end_ms: 117400\n- text: Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  start_ms: 117400\n  end_ms: 119660\n- text: Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n  start_ms: 119660\n  end_ms: 122300\n- text: I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  start_ms: 122300\n  end_ms: 124870\n- text: They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  start_ms: 124870\n  end_ms: 128460\n- text: Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  start_ms: 128460\n  end_ms: 130950\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 130950\n  end_ms: 133550\n- text: '[Joell Ortiz:]'\n  start_ms: 133550\n  end_ms: 134410\n- text: You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  start_ms: 134410\n  end_ms: 136190\n- text: I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  start_ms: 136190\n  end_ms: 138240\n- text: Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  start_ms: 138240\n  end_ms: 140730\n- text: I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  start_ms: 140730\n  end_ms: 143770\n- text: I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  start_ms: 143770\n  end_ms: 146110\n- text: And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n  start_ms: 146110\n  end_ms: 149560\n- text: Too many critics tend to be silly\n  start_ms: 149560\n  end_ms: 152110\n- text: Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  start_ms: 152110\n  end_ms: 154440\n- text: I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n  start_ms: 154440\n  end_ms: 157000\n- text: Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n  start_ms: 157000\n  end_ms: 160130\n- text: Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  start_ms: 160130\n  end_ms: 162960\n- text: Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  start_ms: 162960\n  end_ms: 165400\n- text: None of you kids spit evenly\n  start_ms: 165400\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170710\n- text: Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  start_ms: 170710\n  end_ms: 173340\n- text: Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n  start_ms: 173340\n  end_ms: 175990\n- text: Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  start_ms: 175990\n  end_ms: 178530\n- text: Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  start_ms: 178530\n  end_ms: 181400\n- text: Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  start_ms: 181400\n  end_ms: 183870\n- text: In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  start_ms: 183870\n  end_ms: 187300\n- text: Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  start_ms: 187300\n  end_ms: 189850\n- text: I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n  start_ms: 189850\n  end_ms: 192120\n- text: '[Joe Budden:]'\n  start_ms: 192120\n  end_ms: 192870\n- text: Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  start_ms: 192870\n  end_ms: 194500\n- text: Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  start_ms: 194500\n  end_ms: 196970\n- text: I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  start_ms: 196970\n  end_ms: 199760\n- text: A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  start_ms: 199760\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205240\n- text: I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  start_ms: 205240\n  end_ms: 207940\n- text: Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  start_ms: 207940\n  end_ms: 210420\n- text: Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  start_ms: 210420\n  end_ms: 213270\n- text: Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n  start_ms: 213270\n  end_ms: 215240\n- text: I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n  start_ms: 215240\n  end_ms: 218250\n- text: All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  start_ms: 218250\n  end_ms: 220940\n- text: Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  start_ms: 220940\n  end_ms: 223950\n- text: Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  start_ms: 223950\n  end_ms: 226720\n- text: They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  start_ms: 226720\n  end_ms: 228950\n- text: Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n  start_ms: 228950\n  end_ms: 232090\n- text: Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  start_ms: 232090\n  end_ms: 234530\n- text: Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  start_ms: 234530\n  end_ms: 237130\n- text: FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n  start_ms: 237130\n  end_ms: 239790\n- text: I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  start_ms: 239790\n  end_ms: 242330\n- text: I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  start_ms: 242330\n  end_ms: 245500\n- text: Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n  start_ms: 245500\n  end_ms: 247700\n- text: REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n  start_ms: 247700\n  end_ms: 250290\n- text: '[Royce Da 5''9\":] I don''t be fuckin around on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 250290\n  end_ms: 252680\n- text: '[Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn''t speak on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 252680\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: '[Joell Ortiz:] You lil'' niggaz need to come off that microphone'\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258180\n- text: '[Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 258180\n  end_ms: 261230\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]'\n  start_ms: 261230\n  end_ms: 271320\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271320\nplain: |-\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n\n  [Royce Da 5'9\":]\n  Yeah, yeah...\n  Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n  I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n  Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n  Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  I got the voc' in touch\n  I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n  Too many enemies and no killers\n  Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n  I get stacks (stacks)\n  I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n  +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n  I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  I put it down on that (microphone)\n  Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n\n  [Crooked I:]\n  But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n  That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n  Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n  I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n  I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n  We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n  I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n\n  [Joell Ortiz:]\n  You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n  Too many critics tend to be silly\n  Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n  Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n  Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  None of you kids spit evenly\n  You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n  Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n  Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n\n  [Joe Budden:]\n  Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n  I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n  All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n  Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n  I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n  REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n\n  [Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  [Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  [Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n  [Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]\n"},{"id":33152383,"name":"03 Microphone","trackName":"03 Microphone","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse","duration":283.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n\n[Royce Da 5'9\":]\nYeah, yeah...\nToo many Indians and no chiefs\nI pull out the pistol when I promote peace\nI'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\nLookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\nWhen I bless a joint - it's like Spock\nCame up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\nI got the voc' in touch\nI tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\nToo many enemies and no killers\nToo many that hate snitchin but know squealers\nI get stacks (stacks)\nI blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\nI spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\nY'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\nSo who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n+Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\nToo many hood guys, not enough good guys\nThe way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\nI don't be fuckin around on that microphone\nWhen I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\nThe illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\nI put my heart and my soul in that microphone\nI put it down on that (microphone)\nTurn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n\n[Crooked I:]\nBut turn it down if you weak on that microphone\nLame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\nMy ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\nThat's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\nGroupies love Crooked I on the microphone\nLike James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\nToo many rappers need to leave this mic alone\nThey on the same bullshit that Mike was on\nYou're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\nI kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\nYou're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\nI lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\nWe the mob, homie who need a job?\nPlus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\nToo many in this industry I need to rob\nAnd if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\nFuck props, nigga this a different conquest\nListen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\nI'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\nThey better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\nYes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n\n[Joell Ortiz:]\nYou lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\nI'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\nDon't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\nI turn a father to a son on that microphone\nI'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\nAnd tell his R's I don't need no microphone\nToo many critics tend to be silly\nToo many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\nI get it poppin like a ineen milli\nNow I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\nY'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\nFans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\nNone of you kids spit evenly\nYou body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\nHa ha, too many fantasies and no fame\nToo many claimin insanity and they so sane\nLess than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\nRappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\nYour career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\nIn any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\nToo many monkey see, monkey doers\nI slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n\n[Joe Budden:]\nNiggaz know I get it in on that microphone\nY'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\nI don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\nA pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\nDecide who you wan' be on that microphone\nI see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\nToo many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\nKilled the web, it don't matter what site you on\nSave his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\nI tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\nAll these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\nGun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\nTreat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\nThey mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\nToo many dogs, not enough barkin yet\nToo many blueprints, not enough architects\nRhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\nFUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\nI'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\nI'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\nToo many frontin like y'all that fly\nREACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n\n[Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\n\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]","syncedLyrics":"[00:04.29] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n[00:10.37] [Royce Da 5'9\":]\n[00:12.08] Yeah, yeah...\n[00:12.85] Too many Indians and no chiefs\n[00:14.11] I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n[00:16.48] I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n[00:18.35] Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n[00:21.68] When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n[00:23.63] Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n[00:26.98] I got the voc' in touch\n[00:28.17] I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n[00:33.11] Too many enemies and no killers\n[00:35.06] Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n[00:37.91] I get stacks (stacks)\n[00:39.02] I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n[00:43.07] I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n[00:45.48] Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n[00:48.04] So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n[00:50.54] +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n[00:53.68] Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n[00:56.28] The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n[00:58.95] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[01:01.58] When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n[01:04.25] The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n[01:06.82] I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n[01:09.29] I put it down on that (microphone)\n[01:12.45] Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n[01:14.05] [Crooked I:]\n[01:14.53] But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n[01:17.66] Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[01:20.25] My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n[01:23.19] That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n[01:25.88] Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n[01:28.39] Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n[01:31.13] Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n[01:33.69] They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n[01:36.57] You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n[01:39.06] I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n[01:41.88] You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n[01:44.25] I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n[01:47.14] We the mob, homie who need a job?\n[01:49.03] Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n[01:52.01] Too many in this industry I need to rob\n[01:54.45] And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n[01:57.01] Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n[01:59.96] Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n[02:03.11] I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n[02:05.12] They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n[02:08.26] Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n[02:10.98] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[02:13.36] [Joell Ortiz:]\n[02:13.91] You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n[02:16.16] I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n[02:18.77] Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n[02:21.36] I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n[02:24.28] I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n[02:26.95] And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n[02:29.67] Too many critics tend to be silly\n[02:32.33] Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n[02:35.01] I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n[02:37.03] Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n[02:40.13] Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n[02:42.95] Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n[02:45.78] None of you kids spit evenly\n[02:47.73] You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n[02:51.04] Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n[02:53.60] Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n[02:56.16] Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n[02:58.51] Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n[03:01.49] Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n[03:04.05] In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n[03:07.53] Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n[03:09.69] I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n[03:12.08] [Joe Budden:]\n[03:12.46] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[03:14.96] Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n[03:17.53] I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n[03:20.13] A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n[03:22.98] Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n[03:25.70] I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n[03:28.50] Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n[03:31.08] Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n[03:33.40] Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n[03:35.53] I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n[03:38.66] All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n[03:41.18] Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n[03:44.28] Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n[03:46.56] They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n[03:49.23] Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n[03:52.33] Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n[03:54.83] Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n[03:57.18] FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n[04:00.33] I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n[04:02.94] I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n[04:05.69] Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n[04:08.12] REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n[04:11.18] [Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[04:13.48] [Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[04:16.15] [Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[04:18.80] [Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[04:21.54] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]\n[04:41.48] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 03 Microphone\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse\n  duration_ms: 283000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]'\n  start_ms: 4290\n  end_ms: 10370\n- text: '[Royce Da 5''9\":]'\n  start_ms: 10370\n  end_ms: 12080\n- text: Yeah, yeah...\n  start_ms: 12080\n  end_ms: 12850\n- text: Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  start_ms: 12850\n  end_ms: 14110\n- text: I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n  start_ms: 14110\n  end_ms: 16480\n- text: I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n  start_ms: 16480\n  end_ms: 18350\n- text: Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  start_ms: 18350\n  end_ms: 21680\n- text: When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n  start_ms: 21680\n  end_ms: 23630\n- text: Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  start_ms: 23630\n  end_ms: 26980\n- text: I got the voc' in touch\n  start_ms: 26980\n  end_ms: 28170\n- text: I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 28170\n  end_ms: 33110\n- text: Too many enemies and no killers\n  start_ms: 33110\n  end_ms: 35060\n- text: Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n  start_ms: 35060\n  end_ms: 37910\n- text: I get stacks (stacks)\n  start_ms: 37910\n  end_ms: 39020\n- text: I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  start_ms: 39020\n  end_ms: 43070\n- text: I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  start_ms: 43070\n  end_ms: 45480\n- text: Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  start_ms: 45480\n  end_ms: 48040\n- text: So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n  start_ms: 48040\n  end_ms: 50540\n- text: +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  start_ms: 50540\n  end_ms: 53680\n- text: Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  start_ms: 53680\n  end_ms: 56280\n- text: The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  start_ms: 56280\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 61580\n- text: When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  start_ms: 61580\n  end_ms: 64250\n- text: The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n  start_ms: 64250\n  end_ms: 66820\n- text: I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  start_ms: 66820\n  end_ms: 69290\n- text: I put it down on that (microphone)\n  start_ms: 69290\n  end_ms: 72450\n- text: Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n  start_ms: 72450\n  end_ms: 74050\n- text: '[Crooked I:]'\n  start_ms: 74050\n  end_ms: 74530\n- text: But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 74530\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80250\n- text: My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n  start_ms: 80250\n  end_ms: 83190\n- text: That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  start_ms: 83190\n  end_ms: 85880\n- text: Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  start_ms: 85880\n  end_ms: 88390\n- text: Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n  start_ms: 88390\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93690\n- text: They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  start_ms: 93690\n  end_ms: 96570\n- text: You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n  start_ms: 96570\n  end_ms: 99060\n- text: I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  start_ms: 99060\n  end_ms: 101880\n- text: You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n  start_ms: 101880\n  end_ms: 104250\n- text: I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n  start_ms: 104250\n  end_ms: 107140\n- text: We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  start_ms: 107140\n  end_ms: 109030\n- text: Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  start_ms: 109030\n  end_ms: 112010\n- text: Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  start_ms: 112010\n  end_ms: 114450\n- text: And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  start_ms: 114450\n  end_ms: 117010\n- text: Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  start_ms: 117010\n  end_ms: 119960\n- text: Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n  start_ms: 119960\n  end_ms: 123110\n- text: I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  start_ms: 123110\n  end_ms: 125120\n- text: They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  start_ms: 125120\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 130980\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 130980\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: '[Joell Ortiz:]'\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 133910\n- text: You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  start_ms: 133910\n  end_ms: 136160\n- text: I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  start_ms: 136160\n  end_ms: 138770\n- text: Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  start_ms: 138770\n  end_ms: 141360\n- text: I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  start_ms: 141360\n  end_ms: 144280\n- text: I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  start_ms: 144280\n  end_ms: 146950\n- text: And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n  start_ms: 146950\n  end_ms: 149670\n- text: Too many critics tend to be silly\n  start_ms: 149670\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 155010\n- text: I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n  start_ms: 155010\n  end_ms: 157030\n- text: Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n  start_ms: 157030\n  end_ms: 160130\n- text: Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  start_ms: 160130\n  end_ms: 162950\n- text: Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  start_ms: 162950\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: None of you kids spit evenly\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 167730\n- text: You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n  start_ms: 167730\n  end_ms: 171040\n- text: Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  start_ms: 171040\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176160\n- text: Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  start_ms: 176160\n  end_ms: 178510\n- text: Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  start_ms: 178510\n  end_ms: 181490\n- text: Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  start_ms: 181490\n  end_ms: 184050\n- text: In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  start_ms: 184050\n  end_ms: 187530\n- text: Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  start_ms: 187530\n  end_ms: 189690\n- text: I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n  start_ms: 189690\n  end_ms: 192080\n- text: '[Joe Budden:]'\n  start_ms: 192080\n  end_ms: 192460\n- text: Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  start_ms: 192460\n  end_ms: 194960\n- text: Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  start_ms: 194960\n  end_ms: 197530\n- text: I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  start_ms: 197530\n  end_ms: 200130\n- text: A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  start_ms: 200130\n  end_ms: 202980\n- text: Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  start_ms: 202980\n  end_ms: 205700\n- text: I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  start_ms: 205700\n  end_ms: 208500\n- text: Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  start_ms: 208500\n  end_ms: 211080\n- text: Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  start_ms: 211080\n  end_ms: 213400\n- text: Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n  start_ms: 213400\n  end_ms: 215530\n- text: I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n  start_ms: 215530\n  end_ms: 218660\n- text: All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  start_ms: 218660\n  end_ms: 221180\n- text: Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  start_ms: 221180\n  end_ms: 224280\n- text: Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  start_ms: 224280\n  end_ms: 226560\n- text: They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  start_ms: 226560\n  end_ms: 229230\n- text: Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n  start_ms: 229230\n  end_ms: 232330\n- text: Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  start_ms: 232330\n  end_ms: 234830\n- text: Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  start_ms: 234830\n  end_ms: 237180\n- text: FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n  start_ms: 237180\n  end_ms: 240330\n- text: I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  start_ms: 240330\n  end_ms: 242940\n- text: I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  start_ms: 242940\n  end_ms: 245690\n- text: Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n  start_ms: 245690\n  end_ms: 248120\n- text: REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n  start_ms: 248120\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: '[Royce Da 5''9\":] I don''t be fuckin around on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 253480\n- text: '[Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn''t speak on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 253480\n  end_ms: 256150\n- text: '[Joell Ortiz:] You lil'' niggaz need to come off that microphone'\n  start_ms: 256150\n  end_ms: 258800\n- text: '[Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 258800\n  end_ms: 261540\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]'\n  start_ms: 261540\n  end_ms: 281480\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 281480\nplain: |-\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n\n  [Royce Da 5'9\":]\n  Yeah, yeah...\n  Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n  I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n  Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n  Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  I got the voc' in touch\n  I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n  Too many enemies and no killers\n  Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n  I get stacks (stacks)\n  I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n  +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n  I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  I put it down on that (microphone)\n  Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n\n  [Crooked I:]\n  But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n  That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n  Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n  I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n  I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n  We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n  I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n\n  [Joell Ortiz:]\n  You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n  Too many critics tend to be silly\n  Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n  Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n  Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  None of you kids spit evenly\n  You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n  Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n  Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n\n  [Joe Budden:]\n  Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n  I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n  All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n  Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n  I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n  REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n\n  [Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  [Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  [Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n  [Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]\n"},{"id":1032911,"name":"Microphone","trackName":"Microphone","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse (Bonus Track Version)","duration":283.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n\n[Royce Da 5'9\":]\nYeah, yeah...\nToo many Indians and no chiefs\nI pull out the pistol when I promote peace\nI'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\nLookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\nWhen I bless a joint - it's like Spock\nCame up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\nI got the voc' in touch\nI tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\nToo many enemies and no killers\nToo many that hate snitchin but know squealers\nI get stacks (stacks)\nI blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\nI spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\nY'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\nSo who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n+Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\nToo many hood guys, not enough good guys\nThe way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\nI don't be fuckin around on that microphone\nWhen I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\nThe illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\nI put my heart and my soul in that microphone\nI put it down on that (microphone)\nTurn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n\n[Crooked I:]\nBut turn it down if you weak on that microphone\nLame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\nMy ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\nThat's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\nGroupies love Crooked I on the microphone\nLike James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\nToo many rappers need to leave this mic alone\nThey on the same bullshit that Mike was on\nYou're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\nI kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\nYou're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\nI lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\nWe the mob, homie who need a job?\nPlus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\nToo many in this industry I need to rob\nAnd if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\nFuck props, nigga this a different conquest\nListen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\nI'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\nThey better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\nYes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n\n[Joell Ortiz:]\nYou lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\nI'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\nDon't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\nI turn a father to a son on that microphone\nI'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\nAnd tell his R's I don't need no microphone\nToo many critics tend to be silly\nToo many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\nI get it poppin like a ineen milli\nNow I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\nY'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\nFans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\nNone of you kids spit evenly\nYou body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\nHa ha, too many fantasies and no fame\nToo many claimin insanity and they so sane\nLess than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\nRappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\nYour career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\nIn any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\nToo many monkey see, monkey doers\nI slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n\n[Joe Budden:]\nNiggaz know I get it in on that microphone\nY'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\nI don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\nA pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\nDecide who you wan' be on that microphone\nI see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\nToo many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\nKilled the web, it don't matter what site you on\nSave his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\nI tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\nAll these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\nGun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\nTreat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\nThey mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\nToo many dogs, not enough barkin yet\nToo many blueprints, not enough architects\nRhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\nFUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\nI'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\nI'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\nToo many frontin like y'all that fly\nREACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n\n[Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\n\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]","syncedLyrics":"[00:01.01] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n[00:02.36] [Royce Da 5'9\":]\n[00:02.97] Yeah, yeah...\n[00:10.99] Too many Indians and no chiefs\n[00:13.86] I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n[00:16.25] I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n[00:18.12] Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n[00:21.43] When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n[00:23.36] Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n[00:26.82] I got the voc' in touch\n[00:28.40] I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n[00:32.47] Too many enemies and no killers\n[00:34.93] Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n[00:37.52] I get stacks (stacks)\n[00:38.95] I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n[00:42.54] I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n[00:45.53] Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n[00:48.20] So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n[00:50.18] +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n[00:53.33] Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n[00:56.26] The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n[00:59.20] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[01:01.77] When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n[01:04.12] The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n[01:06.71] I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n[01:10.07] I put it down on that (microphone)\n[01:12.24] Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n[01:14.59] [Crooked I:]\n[01:15.27] But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n[01:17.42] Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[01:20.02] My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n[01:22.83] That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n[01:25.54] Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n[01:28.09] Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n[01:30.95] Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n[01:33.34] They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n[01:35.80] You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n[01:39.18] I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n[01:41.68] You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n[01:44.05] I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n[01:46.69] We the mob, homie who need a job?\n[01:48.86] Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n[01:52.10] Too many in this industry I need to rob\n[01:54.65] And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n[01:57.40] Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n[01:59.66] Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n[02:02.30] I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n[02:04.87] They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n[02:08.46] Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n[02:10.95] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[02:13.55] [Joell Ortiz:]\n[02:14.41] You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n[02:16.19] I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n[02:18.24] Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n[02:20.73] I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n[02:23.77] I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n[02:26.11] And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n[02:29.56] Too many critics tend to be silly\n[02:32.11] Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n[02:34.44] I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n[02:37.00] Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n[02:40.13] Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n[02:42.96] Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n[02:45.40] None of you kids spit evenly\n[02:47.48] You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n[02:50.71] Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n[02:53.34] Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n[02:55.99] Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n[02:58.53] Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n[03:01.40] Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n[03:03.87] In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n[03:07.30] Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n[03:09.85] I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n[03:12.12] [Joe Budden:]\n[03:12.87] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[03:14.50] Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n[03:16.97] I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n[03:19.76] A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n[03:22.62] Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n[03:25.24] I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n[03:27.94] Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n[03:30.42] Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n[03:33.27] Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n[03:35.24] I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n[03:38.25] All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n[03:40.94] Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n[03:43.95] Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n[03:46.72] They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n[03:48.95] Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n[03:52.09] Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n[03:54.53] Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n[03:57.13] FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n[03:59.79] I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n[04:02.33] I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n[04:05.50] Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n[04:07.70] REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n[04:10.29] [Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[04:12.68] [Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[04:15.55] [Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[04:18.18] [Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[04:21.23] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]\n[04:31.32] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse (Bonus Track Version)\n  duration_ms: 283000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]'\n  start_ms: 1010\n  end_ms: 2360\n- text: '[Royce Da 5''9\":]'\n  start_ms: 2360\n  end_ms: 2970\n- text: Yeah, yeah...\n  start_ms: 2970\n  end_ms: 10990\n- text: Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  start_ms: 10990\n  end_ms: 13860\n- text: I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n  start_ms: 13860\n  end_ms: 16250\n- text: I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n  start_ms: 16250\n  end_ms: 18120\n- text: Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  start_ms: 18120\n  end_ms: 21430\n- text: When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n  start_ms: 21430\n  end_ms: 23360\n- text: Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  start_ms: 23360\n  end_ms: 26820\n- text: I got the voc' in touch\n  start_ms: 26820\n  end_ms: 28400\n- text: I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 28400\n  end_ms: 32470\n- text: Too many enemies and no killers\n  start_ms: 32470\n  end_ms: 34930\n- text: Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n  start_ms: 34930\n  end_ms: 37520\n- text: I get stacks (stacks)\n  start_ms: 37520\n  end_ms: 38950\n- text: I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  start_ms: 38950\n  end_ms: 42540\n- text: I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  start_ms: 42540\n  end_ms: 45530\n- text: Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  start_ms: 45530\n  end_ms: 48200\n- text: So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n  start_ms: 48200\n  end_ms: 50180\n- text: +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  start_ms: 50180\n  end_ms: 53330\n- text: Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  start_ms: 53330\n  end_ms: 56260\n- text: The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  start_ms: 56260\n  end_ms: 59200\n- text: I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  start_ms: 59200\n  end_ms: 61770\n- text: When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  start_ms: 61770\n  end_ms: 64120\n- text: The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n  start_ms: 64120\n  end_ms: 66710\n- text: I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  start_ms: 66710\n  end_ms: 70070\n- text: I put it down on that (microphone)\n  start_ms: 70070\n  end_ms: 72240\n- text: Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n  start_ms: 72240\n  end_ms: 74590\n- text: '[Crooked I:]'\n  start_ms: 74590\n  end_ms: 75270\n- text: But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 75270\n  end_ms: 77420\n- text: Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 77420\n  end_ms: 80020\n- text: My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n  start_ms: 80020\n  end_ms: 82830\n- text: That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  start_ms: 82830\n  end_ms: 85540\n- text: Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  start_ms: 85540\n  end_ms: 88090\n- text: Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n  start_ms: 88090\n  end_ms: 90950\n- text: Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  start_ms: 90950\n  end_ms: 93340\n- text: They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  start_ms: 93340\n  end_ms: 95800\n- text: You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n  start_ms: 95800\n  end_ms: 99180\n- text: I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  start_ms: 99180\n  end_ms: 101680\n- text: You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n  start_ms: 101680\n  end_ms: 104050\n- text: I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n  start_ms: 104050\n  end_ms: 106690\n- text: We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  start_ms: 106690\n  end_ms: 108860\n- text: Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  start_ms: 108860\n  end_ms: 112100\n- text: Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  start_ms: 112100\n  end_ms: 114650\n- text: And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  start_ms: 114650\n  end_ms: 117400\n- text: Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  start_ms: 117400\n  end_ms: 119660\n- text: Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n  start_ms: 119660\n  end_ms: 122300\n- text: I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  start_ms: 122300\n  end_ms: 124870\n- text: They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  start_ms: 124870\n  end_ms: 128460\n- text: Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  start_ms: 128460\n  end_ms: 130950\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 130950\n  end_ms: 133550\n- text: '[Joell Ortiz:]'\n  start_ms: 133550\n  end_ms: 134410\n- text: You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  start_ms: 134410\n  end_ms: 136190\n- text: I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  start_ms: 136190\n  end_ms: 138240\n- text: Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  start_ms: 138240\n  end_ms: 140730\n- text: I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  start_ms: 140730\n  end_ms: 143770\n- text: I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  start_ms: 143770\n  end_ms: 146110\n- text: And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n  start_ms: 146110\n  end_ms: 149560\n- text: Too many critics tend to be silly\n  start_ms: 149560\n  end_ms: 152110\n- text: Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  start_ms: 152110\n  end_ms: 154440\n- text: I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n  start_ms: 154440\n  end_ms: 157000\n- text: Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n  start_ms: 157000\n  end_ms: 160130\n- text: Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  start_ms: 160130\n  end_ms: 162960\n- text: Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  start_ms: 162960\n  end_ms: 165400\n- text: None of you kids spit evenly\n  start_ms: 165400\n  end_ms: 167480\n- text: You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n  start_ms: 167480\n  end_ms: 170710\n- text: Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  start_ms: 170710\n  end_ms: 173340\n- text: Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n  start_ms: 173340\n  end_ms: 175990\n- text: Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  start_ms: 175990\n  end_ms: 178530\n- text: Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  start_ms: 178530\n  end_ms: 181400\n- text: Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  start_ms: 181400\n  end_ms: 183870\n- text: In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  start_ms: 183870\n  end_ms: 187300\n- text: Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  start_ms: 187300\n  end_ms: 189850\n- text: I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n  start_ms: 189850\n  end_ms: 192120\n- text: '[Joe Budden:]'\n  start_ms: 192120\n  end_ms: 192870\n- text: Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  start_ms: 192870\n  end_ms: 194500\n- text: Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  start_ms: 194500\n  end_ms: 196970\n- text: I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  start_ms: 196970\n  end_ms: 199760\n- text: A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  start_ms: 199760\n  end_ms: 202620\n- text: Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  start_ms: 202620\n  end_ms: 205240\n- text: I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  start_ms: 205240\n  end_ms: 207940\n- text: Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  start_ms: 207940\n  end_ms: 210420\n- text: Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  start_ms: 210420\n  end_ms: 213270\n- text: Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n  start_ms: 213270\n  end_ms: 215240\n- text: I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n  start_ms: 215240\n  end_ms: 218250\n- text: All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  start_ms: 218250\n  end_ms: 220940\n- text: Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  start_ms: 220940\n  end_ms: 223950\n- text: Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  start_ms: 223950\n  end_ms: 226720\n- text: They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  start_ms: 226720\n  end_ms: 228950\n- text: Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n  start_ms: 228950\n  end_ms: 232090\n- text: Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  start_ms: 232090\n  end_ms: 234530\n- text: Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  start_ms: 234530\n  end_ms: 237130\n- text: FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n  start_ms: 237130\n  end_ms: 239790\n- text: I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  start_ms: 239790\n  end_ms: 242330\n- text: I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  start_ms: 242330\n  end_ms: 245500\n- text: Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n  start_ms: 245500\n  end_ms: 247700\n- text: REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n  start_ms: 247700\n  end_ms: 250290\n- text: '[Royce Da 5''9\":] I don''t be fuckin around on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 250290\n  end_ms: 252680\n- text: '[Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn''t speak on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 252680\n  end_ms: 255550\n- text: '[Joell Ortiz:] You lil'' niggaz need to come off that microphone'\n  start_ms: 255550\n  end_ms: 258180\n- text: '[Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 258180\n  end_ms: 261230\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]'\n  start_ms: 261230\n  end_ms: 271320\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 271320\nplain: |-\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n\n  [Royce Da 5'9\":]\n  Yeah, yeah...\n  Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n  I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n  Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n  Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  I got the voc' in touch\n  I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n  Too many enemies and no killers\n  Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n  I get stacks (stacks)\n  I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n  +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n  I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  I put it down on that (microphone)\n  Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n\n  [Crooked I:]\n  But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n  That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n  Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n  I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n  I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n  We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n  I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n\n  [Joell Ortiz:]\n  You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n  Too many critics tend to be silly\n  Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n  Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n  Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  None of you kids spit evenly\n  You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n  Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n  Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n\n  [Joe Budden:]\n  Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n  I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n  All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n  Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n  I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n  REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n\n  [Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  [Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  [Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n  [Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]\n"},{"id":18577568,"name":"Microphone (Produced By The Alchemist)","trackName":"Microphone (Produced By The Alchemist)","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse","duration":282.7958279,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n\n[Royce Da 5'9\":]\nYeah, yeah...\nToo many Indians and no chiefs\nI pull out the pistol when I promote peace\nI'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\nLookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\nWhen I bless a joint - it's like Spock\nCame up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\nI got the voc' in touch\nI tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\nToo many enemies and no killers\nToo many that hate snitchin but know squealers\nI get stacks (stacks)\nI blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\nI spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\nY'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\nSo who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n+Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\nToo many hood guys, not enough good guys\nThe way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\nI don't be fuckin around on that microphone\nWhen I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\nThe illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\nI put my heart and my soul in that microphone\nI put it down on that (microphone)\nTurn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n\n[Crooked I:]\nBut turn it down if you weak on that microphone\nLame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\nMy ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\nThat's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\nGroupies love Crooked I on the microphone\nLike James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\nToo many rappers need to leave this mic alone\nThey on the same bullshit that Mike was on\nYou're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\nI kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\nYou're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\nI lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\nWe the mob, homie who need a job?\nPlus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\nToo many in this industry I need to rob\nAnd if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\nFuck props, nigga this a different conquest\nListen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\nI'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\nThey better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\nYes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n\n[Joell Ortiz:]\nYou lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\nI'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\nDon't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\nI turn a father to a son on that microphone\nI'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\nAnd tell his R's I don't need no microphone\nToo many critics tend to be silly\nToo many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\nI get it poppin like a ineen milli\nNow I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\nY'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\nFans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\nNone of you kids spit evenly\nYou body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\nHa ha, too many fantasies and no fame\nToo many claimin insanity and they so sane\nLess than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\nRappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\nYour career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\nIn any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\nToo many monkey see, monkey doers\nI slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n\n[Joe Budden:]\nNiggaz know I get it in on that microphone\nY'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\nI don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\nA pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\nDecide who you wan' be on that microphone\nI see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\nToo many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\nKilled the web, it don't matter what site you on\nSave his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\nI tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\nAll these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\nGun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\nTreat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\nThey mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\nToo many dogs, not enough barkin yet\nToo many blueprints, not enough architects\nRhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\nFUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\nI'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\nI'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\nToo many frontin like y'all that fly\nREACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n\n[Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\n\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]","syncedLyrics":"[00:04.29] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n[00:10.37] [Royce Da 5'9\":]\n[00:12.08] Yeah, yeah...\n[00:12.85] Too many Indians and no chiefs\n[00:14.11] I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n[00:16.48] I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n[00:18.35] Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n[00:21.68] When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n[00:23.63] Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n[00:26.98] I got the voc' in touch\n[00:28.17] I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n[00:33.11] Too many enemies and no killers\n[00:35.06] Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n[00:37.91] I get stacks (stacks)\n[00:39.02] I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n[00:43.07] I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n[00:45.48] Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n[00:48.04] So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n[00:50.54] +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n[00:53.68] Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n[00:56.28] The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n[00:58.95] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[01:01.58] When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n[01:04.25] The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n[01:06.82] I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n[01:09.29] I put it down on that (microphone)\n[01:12.45] Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n[01:14.05] [Crooked I:]\n[01:14.53] But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n[01:17.66] Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[01:20.25] My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n[01:23.19] That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n[01:25.88] Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n[01:28.39] Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n[01:31.13] Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n[01:33.69] They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n[01:36.57] You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n[01:39.06] I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n[01:41.88] You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n[01:44.25] I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n[01:47.14] We the mob, homie who need a job?\n[01:49.03] Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n[01:52.01] Too many in this industry I need to rob\n[01:54.45] And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n[01:57.01] Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n[01:59.96] Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n[02:03.11] I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n[02:05.12] They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n[02:08.26] Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n[02:10.98] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[02:13.36] [Joell Ortiz:]\n[02:13.91] You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n[02:16.16] I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n[02:18.77] Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n[02:21.36] I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n[02:24.28] I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n[02:26.95] And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n[02:29.67] Too many critics tend to be silly\n[02:32.33] Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n[02:35.01] I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n[02:37.03] Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n[02:40.13] Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n[02:42.95] Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n[02:45.78] None of you kids spit evenly\n[02:47.73] You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n[02:51.04] Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n[02:53.60] Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n[02:56.16] Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n[02:58.51] Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n[03:01.49] Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n[03:04.05] In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n[03:07.53] Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n[03:09.69] I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n[03:12.08] [Joe Budden:]\n[03:12.46] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[03:14.96] Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n[03:17.53] I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n[03:20.13] A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n[03:22.98] Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n[03:25.70] I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n[03:28.50] Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n[03:31.08] Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n[03:33.40] Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n[03:35.53] I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n[03:38.66] All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n[03:41.18] Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n[03:44.28] Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n[03:46.56] They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n[03:49.23] Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n[03:52.33] Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n[03:54.83] Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n[03:57.18] FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n[04:00.33] I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n[04:02.94] I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n[04:05.69] Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n[04:08.12] REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n[04:11.18] [Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n[04:13.48] [Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n[04:16.15] [Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n[04:18.80] [Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n[04:21.54] \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]\n[04:41.48] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone (Produced By The Alchemist)\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse\n  duration_ms: 282796\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]'\n  start_ms: 4290\n  end_ms: 10370\n- text: '[Royce Da 5''9\":]'\n  start_ms: 10370\n  end_ms: 12080\n- text: Yeah, yeah...\n  start_ms: 12080\n  end_ms: 12850\n- text: Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  start_ms: 12850\n  end_ms: 14110\n- text: I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n  start_ms: 14110\n  end_ms: 16480\n- text: I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n  start_ms: 16480\n  end_ms: 18350\n- text: Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  start_ms: 18350\n  end_ms: 21680\n- text: When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n  start_ms: 21680\n  end_ms: 23630\n- text: Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  start_ms: 23630\n  end_ms: 26980\n- text: I got the voc' in touch\n  start_ms: 26980\n  end_ms: 28170\n- text: I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 28170\n  end_ms: 33110\n- text: Too many enemies and no killers\n  start_ms: 33110\n  end_ms: 35060\n- text: Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n  start_ms: 35060\n  end_ms: 37910\n- text: I get stacks (stacks)\n  start_ms: 37910\n  end_ms: 39020\n- text: I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  start_ms: 39020\n  end_ms: 43070\n- text: I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  start_ms: 43070\n  end_ms: 45480\n- text: Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  start_ms: 45480\n  end_ms: 48040\n- text: So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n  start_ms: 48040\n  end_ms: 50540\n- text: +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  start_ms: 50540\n  end_ms: 53680\n- text: Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  start_ms: 53680\n  end_ms: 56280\n- text: The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  start_ms: 56280\n  end_ms: 58950\n- text: I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  start_ms: 58950\n  end_ms: 61580\n- text: When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  start_ms: 61580\n  end_ms: 64250\n- text: The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n  start_ms: 64250\n  end_ms: 66820\n- text: I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  start_ms: 66820\n  end_ms: 69290\n- text: I put it down on that (microphone)\n  start_ms: 69290\n  end_ms: 72450\n- text: Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n  start_ms: 72450\n  end_ms: 74050\n- text: '[Crooked I:]'\n  start_ms: 74050\n  end_ms: 74530\n- text: But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 74530\n  end_ms: 77660\n- text: Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  start_ms: 77660\n  end_ms: 80250\n- text: My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n  start_ms: 80250\n  end_ms: 83190\n- text: That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  start_ms: 83190\n  end_ms: 85880\n- text: Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  start_ms: 85880\n  end_ms: 88390\n- text: Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n  start_ms: 88390\n  end_ms: 91130\n- text: Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  start_ms: 91130\n  end_ms: 93690\n- text: They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  start_ms: 93690\n  end_ms: 96570\n- text: You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n  start_ms: 96570\n  end_ms: 99060\n- text: I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  start_ms: 99060\n  end_ms: 101880\n- text: You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n  start_ms: 101880\n  end_ms: 104250\n- text: I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n  start_ms: 104250\n  end_ms: 107140\n- text: We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  start_ms: 107140\n  end_ms: 109030\n- text: Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  start_ms: 109030\n  end_ms: 112010\n- text: Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  start_ms: 112010\n  end_ms: 114450\n- text: And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  start_ms: 114450\n  end_ms: 117010\n- text: Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  start_ms: 117010\n  end_ms: 119960\n- text: Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n  start_ms: 119960\n  end_ms: 123110\n- text: I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  start_ms: 123110\n  end_ms: 125120\n- text: They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  start_ms: 125120\n  end_ms: 128260\n- text: Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  start_ms: 128260\n  end_ms: 130980\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 130980\n  end_ms: 133360\n- text: '[Joell Ortiz:]'\n  start_ms: 133360\n  end_ms: 133910\n- text: You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  start_ms: 133910\n  end_ms: 136160\n- text: I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  start_ms: 136160\n  end_ms: 138770\n- text: Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  start_ms: 138770\n  end_ms: 141360\n- text: I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  start_ms: 141360\n  end_ms: 144280\n- text: I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  start_ms: 144280\n  end_ms: 146950\n- text: And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n  start_ms: 146950\n  end_ms: 149670\n- text: Too many critics tend to be silly\n  start_ms: 149670\n  end_ms: 152330\n- text: Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  start_ms: 152330\n  end_ms: 155010\n- text: I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n  start_ms: 155010\n  end_ms: 157030\n- text: Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n  start_ms: 157030\n  end_ms: 160130\n- text: Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  start_ms: 160130\n  end_ms: 162950\n- text: Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  start_ms: 162950\n  end_ms: 165780\n- text: None of you kids spit evenly\n  start_ms: 165780\n  end_ms: 167730\n- text: You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n  start_ms: 167730\n  end_ms: 171040\n- text: Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  start_ms: 171040\n  end_ms: 173600\n- text: Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n  start_ms: 173600\n  end_ms: 176160\n- text: Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  start_ms: 176160\n  end_ms: 178510\n- text: Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  start_ms: 178510\n  end_ms: 181490\n- text: Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  start_ms: 181490\n  end_ms: 184050\n- text: In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  start_ms: 184050\n  end_ms: 187530\n- text: Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  start_ms: 187530\n  end_ms: 189690\n- text: I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n  start_ms: 189690\n  end_ms: 192080\n- text: '[Joe Budden:]'\n  start_ms: 192080\n  end_ms: 192460\n- text: Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  start_ms: 192460\n  end_ms: 194960\n- text: Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  start_ms: 194960\n  end_ms: 197530\n- text: I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  start_ms: 197530\n  end_ms: 200130\n- text: A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  start_ms: 200130\n  end_ms: 202980\n- text: Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  start_ms: 202980\n  end_ms: 205700\n- text: I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  start_ms: 205700\n  end_ms: 208500\n- text: Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  start_ms: 208500\n  end_ms: 211080\n- text: Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  start_ms: 211080\n  end_ms: 213400\n- text: Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n  start_ms: 213400\n  end_ms: 215530\n- text: I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n  start_ms: 215530\n  end_ms: 218660\n- text: All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  start_ms: 218660\n  end_ms: 221180\n- text: Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  start_ms: 221180\n  end_ms: 224280\n- text: Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  start_ms: 224280\n  end_ms: 226560\n- text: They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  start_ms: 226560\n  end_ms: 229230\n- text: Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n  start_ms: 229230\n  end_ms: 232330\n- text: Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  start_ms: 232330\n  end_ms: 234830\n- text: Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  start_ms: 234830\n  end_ms: 237180\n- text: FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n  start_ms: 237180\n  end_ms: 240330\n- text: I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  start_ms: 240330\n  end_ms: 242940\n- text: I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  start_ms: 242940\n  end_ms: 245690\n- text: Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n  start_ms: 245690\n  end_ms: 248120\n- text: REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n  start_ms: 248120\n  end_ms: 251180\n- text: '[Royce Da 5''9\":] I don''t be fuckin around on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 251180\n  end_ms: 253480\n- text: '[Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn''t speak on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 253480\n  end_ms: 256150\n- text: '[Joell Ortiz:] You lil'' niggaz need to come off that microphone'\n  start_ms: 256150\n  end_ms: 258800\n- text: '[Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone'\n  start_ms: 258800\n  end_ms: 261540\n- text: '\"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]'\n  start_ms: 261540\n  end_ms: 281480\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 281480\nplain: |-\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat in background]\n\n  [Royce Da 5'9\":]\n  Yeah, yeah...\n  Too many Indians and no chiefs\n  I pull out the pistol when I promote peace\n  I'm the blueprint - I have your clothes\n  Lookin like they was designed by bullet holes and shoe prints\n  When I bless a joint - it's like Spock\n  Came up in the spot and grabbed the beat by the pressure point\n  I got the voc' in touch\n  I tell my bitch I'm a, give up drinkin when she give her emotions up\n  Too many enemies and no killers\n  Too many that hate snitchin but know squealers\n  I get stacks (stacks)\n  I blam hard with the click-clack, that Antarctica wrist wrap\n  I spit crack for yard niggaz to get dope\n  Y'all gotta wait for the transporter to get back\n  So who's the illest - what you talkin 'bout?\n  +Die Hard+ like you Bruce Willis when I shoot to kill it\n  Too many hood guys, not enough good guys\n  The way you say pussy in plural, is puss-I\n  I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  When I'm kickin them flows on that microphone\n  The illest nigga that's holdin that microphone\n  I put my heart and my soul in that microphone\n  I put it down on that (microphone)\n  Turn up the motherfuckin sound on that microphone\n\n  [Crooked I:]\n  But turn it down if you weak on that microphone\n  Lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  My ultrasounds show me holdin a microphone\n  That's on my momma, I was born with a microphone\n  Groupies love Crooked I on the microphone\n  Like James Brown I'm a DIE on the microphone\n  Too many rappers need to leave this mic alone\n  They on the same bullshit that Mike was on\n  You're lookin at the unseen, missin and to the unheard\n  I kill your career with one word (Slaughterhouse!)\n  You're verbally flirtin with murder, you got some nerve\n  I lift your skirt like a young perv - knock 'em out!\n  We the mob, homie who need a job?\n  Plus I'm so fly tell Derek Fisher I need a lob\n  Too many in this industry I need to rob\n  And if eatin niggaz made you obese, I be The Blob!\n  Fuck props, nigga this a different conquest\n  Listen this hear me spittin think it's a pissing contest\n  I'm in it for power, if cowards try to stop me\n  They better off usin a fishin pole to reel in the Lock Ness\n  Yes! I got a barrel that'll spot wussies\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n\n  [Joell Ortiz:]\n  You lil' niggaz better come off that microphone\n  I'm educated but I'm dumb on that microphone\n  Don't even bother, you'll be done on that microphone\n  I turn a father to a son on that microphone\n  I'm a revolver in the slum on that microphone\n  And tell his R's I don't need no microphone\n  Too many critics tend to be silly\n  Too many frogs go ribbit but never leave lillies\n  I get it poppin like a ineen milli\n  Now I'm havin a whale of a good time, I'm a +Free Willy+\n  Y'all lip singers take a pic, click, cheese really\n  Fans, who their man, I'm they quick pick easily\n  None of you kids spit evenly\n  You body my verse is like a thick bitch leavin me\n  Ha ha, too many fantasies and no fame\n  Too many claimin insanity and they so sane\n  Less than wack Scooby Snack lack flow game\n  Rappers everything I do be that crack cocaine\n  Your career is doobie wraps, slap Joe name\n  In any one of them verses say hello to the hearses\n  Too many monkey see, monkey doers\n  I slaughter pigs on my tail like Punky Brewster\n\n  [Joe Budden:]\n  Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n  Y'all don't know where to begin on that microphone\n  I don't see how y'all could win on that microphone\n  A pioneer, I set trends on that microphone\n  Decide who you wan' be on that microphone\n  I see a bunch of lil' me's, micro clones\n  Too many 20 milligram Vic's I'm on\n  Killed the web, it don't matter what site you on\n  Save his mouth 'fore he's runnin off\n  I tell 'em bridge or a tunnel, give a FLUCK how I come across\n  All these wanna be tough guys, son is soft\n  Gun go off, havin like a good show, just spun 'em off\n  Treat old-timers like fags who drop the soap\n  They mic got Alzheimer's, forgot that they was dope\n  Too many dogs, not enough barkin yet\n  Too many blueprints, not enough architects\n  Rhyme ain't started yet, still every bar's a mess\n  FUCK record sales or who the machine markets best\n  I'm the last muh'fucker that y'all should test\n  I'm the sharp shooter, you the nigga I target next\n  Too many frontin like y'all that fly\n  REACH it, cause we set the bar that high (FOOL)\n\n  [Royce Da 5'9\":] I don't be fuckin around on that microphone\n  [Crooked I:] You lame niggaz shouldn't speak on that microphone\n  [Joell Ortiz:] You lil' niggaz need to come off that microphone\n  [Joe Budden:] Niggaz know I get it in on that microphone\n\n  \"The-the-the mic, the-the-the microphone\" [repeat to fade]\n"},{"id":37948296,"name":"Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)","trackName":"Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)","artistName":"Prhyme, Slaughterhouse","albumName":"PRhyme (Deluxe Version)","duration":241.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\nI'm handlin' you frauds\nThese wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\nI'm bandages and gauze\nCrooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\nBut I'm havin' a menage\nFuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\nI'm managin' my odds\nMan these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\nTake the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\nSlaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\nFuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\nFuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\nMarch into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\nYou call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\nI turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\nToe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\nAnd Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\nThat was part uno, this is part two though\n\nThis the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\nThe competition fell back, niggas ask\nHow much did I use to drink\nI tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\nKinda like Pharrell's hat\nBut all jokes aside like I ordered fries\nI'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\nBefore police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\nAnd Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n(Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\nBefore niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\nYou let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\nSame shit, another nigga gotta die today\nMy bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\nWhinin' all the time, all she do was holler\nWe ain't like a Pagan holiday\nRappers will, be actin' ill\nKnowing they daffodils\nI take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\nAnd that says \"laciryl\"\nAnd that's exactly how I feel\nShout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nOh you don't, don't let me learn yah\nI body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\nThe nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\nThe gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n(House Gang what up!)\nOther groups basic mergers\nWe extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\nDrama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\nYou can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\nWe started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\nFuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\nBrothers for real, I can honestly say\nIf you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\nMeet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\nShady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n(Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\nNah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nToo many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nThese niggas might play cray, try slay me\nOff my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\nRight footed melee, strapped a light AK\nEvery bar get in the face like Ice JJ\nDo it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\nCould've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\nStill, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\nIt's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\nHow I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\nDrake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\nA hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\nBanana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\nCause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\nFrom the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\nIt's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\nCall a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nBring it back to life, I murder that microphone\nToo many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)","syncedLyrics":"[00:16.42] This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n[00:20.19] I'm handlin' you frauds\n[00:22.17] These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n[00:24.85] I'm bandages and gauze\n[00:26.34] Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n[00:29.21] But I'm havin' a menage\n[00:31.35] Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n[00:33.70] I'm managin' my odds\n[00:35.08] Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n[00:37.36] Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n[00:39.78] Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n[00:42.34] Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n[00:44.98] Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n[00:47.22] March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n[00:50.15] You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n[00:52.26] I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n[00:55.31] Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n[00:57.75] And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n[01:00.85] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:03.43] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:06.88] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[01:07.94] That was part uno, this is part two though\n[01:10.09] This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n[01:12.62] The competition fell back, niggas ask\n[01:14.74] How much did I use to drink\n[01:16.58] I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n[01:18.85] Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n[01:19.43] But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n[01:22.03] I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n[01:24.68] Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n[01:28.25] And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n[01:30.65] (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n[01:32.27] 'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n[01:34.02] Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n[01:36.61] You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n[01:39.21] Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n[01:41.84] My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n[01:44.46] (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n[01:46.32] Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n[01:48.12] We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n[01:49.73] Rappers will, be actin' ill\n[01:51.21] Knowing they daffodils\n[01:52.87] I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n[01:55.22] And that says \"laciryl\"\n[01:56.53] And that's exactly how I feel\n[01:57.83] Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n[02:00.48] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:02.75] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:04.89] I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n[02:06.94] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:09.59] Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n[02:11.67] I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n[02:13.48] The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n[02:15.58] The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n[02:18.10] (House Gang what up!)\n[02:20.03] Other groups basic mergers\n[02:21.57] We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n[02:24.16] Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n[02:25.76] You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n[02:29.11] We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n[02:31.54] Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n[02:34.12] Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n[02:36.27] If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n[02:39.61] Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n[02:41.65] Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n[02:46.98] (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n[02:47.23] Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n[02:48.49] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:52.15] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:53.96] Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n[02:57.11] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:58.98] These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n[03:00.57] Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n[03:03.69] Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n[03:05.91] Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n[03:08.80] Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n[03:11.22] Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n[03:13.89] Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n[03:16.16] It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n[03:18.22] How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n[03:21.13] Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n[03:23.75] A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n[03:25.80] Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n[03:28.41] Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n[03:31.04] From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n[03:32.60] It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n[03:35.54] Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n[03:38.62] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[03:40.97] Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n[03:43.01] Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n[03:46.23] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[03:59.52] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)\n  artist: Prhyme, Slaughterhouse\n  album: PRhyme (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 241000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n  start_ms: 16420\n  end_ms: 20190\n- text: I'm handlin' you frauds\n  start_ms: 20190\n  end_ms: 22170\n- text: These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  start_ms: 22170\n  end_ms: 24850\n- text: I'm bandages and gauze\n  start_ms: 24850\n  end_ms: 26340\n- text: Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  start_ms: 26340\n  end_ms: 29210\n- text: But I'm havin' a menage\n  start_ms: 29210\n  end_ms: 31350\n- text: Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  start_ms: 31350\n  end_ms: 33700\n- text: I'm managin' my odds\n  start_ms: 33700\n  end_ms: 35080\n- text: Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  start_ms: 35080\n  end_ms: 37360\n- text: Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  start_ms: 37360\n  end_ms: 39780\n- text: Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  start_ms: 39780\n  end_ms: 42340\n- text: Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 42340\n  end_ms: 44980\n- text: Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  start_ms: 44980\n  end_ms: 47220\n- text: March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 47220\n  end_ms: 50150\n- text: You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  start_ms: 50150\n  end_ms: 52260\n- text: I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  start_ms: 52260\n  end_ms: 55310\n- text: Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  start_ms: 55310\n  end_ms: 57750\n- text: And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  start_ms: 57750\n  end_ms: 60850\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 60850\n  end_ms: 63430\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 63430\n  end_ms: 66880\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 66880\n  end_ms: 67940\n- text: That was part uno, this is part two though\n  start_ms: 67940\n  end_ms: 70090\n- text: This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  start_ms: 70090\n  end_ms: 72620\n- text: The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  start_ms: 72620\n  end_ms: 74740\n- text: How much did I use to drink\n  start_ms: 74740\n  end_ms: 76580\n- text: I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  start_ms: 76580\n  end_ms: 78850\n- text: Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  start_ms: 78850\n  end_ms: 79430\n- text: But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  start_ms: 79430\n  end_ms: 82030\n- text: I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  start_ms: 82030\n  end_ms: 84680\n- text: Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  start_ms: 84680\n  end_ms: 88250\n- text: And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  start_ms: 88250\n  end_ms: 90650\n- text: (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  start_ms: 90650\n  end_ms: 92270\n- text: '''Fore all of the jewelry, I''ve been baller'\n  start_ms: 92270\n  end_ms: 94020\n- text: Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  start_ms: 94020\n  end_ms: 96610\n- text: You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  start_ms: 96610\n  end_ms: 99210\n- text: Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  start_ms: 99210\n  end_ms: 101840\n- text: My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  start_ms: 101840\n  end_ms: 104460\n- text: (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  start_ms: 104460\n  end_ms: 106320\n- text: Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  start_ms: 106320\n  end_ms: 108120\n- text: We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  start_ms: 108120\n  end_ms: 109730\n- text: Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  start_ms: 109730\n  end_ms: 111210\n- text: Knowing they daffodils\n  start_ms: 111210\n  end_ms: 112870\n- text: I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  start_ms: 112870\n  end_ms: 115220\n- text: And that says \"laciryl\"\n  start_ms: 115220\n  end_ms: 116530\n- text: And that's exactly how I feel\n  start_ms: 116530\n  end_ms: 117830\n- text: Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  start_ms: 117830\n  end_ms: 120480\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 120480\n  end_ms: 122750\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 122750\n  end_ms: 124890\n- text: I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 124890\n  end_ms: 126940\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 126940\n  end_ms: 129590\n- text: Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  start_ms: 129590\n  end_ms: 131670\n- text: I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  start_ms: 131670\n  end_ms: 133480\n- text: The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  start_ms: 133480\n  end_ms: 135580\n- text: The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  start_ms: 135580\n  end_ms: 138100\n- text: (House Gang what up!)\n  start_ms: 138100\n  end_ms: 140030\n- text: Other groups basic mergers\n  start_ms: 140030\n  end_ms: 141570\n- text: We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  start_ms: 141570\n  end_ms: 144160\n- text: Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  start_ms: 144160\n  end_ms: 145760\n- text: You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  start_ms: 145760\n  end_ms: 149110\n- text: We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  start_ms: 149110\n  end_ms: 151540\n- text: Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  start_ms: 151540\n  end_ms: 154120\n- text: Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  start_ms: 154120\n  end_ms: 156270\n- text: If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  start_ms: 156270\n  end_ms: 159610\n- text: Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  start_ms: 159610\n  end_ms: 161650\n- text: Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  start_ms: 161650\n  end_ms: 166980\n- text: (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  start_ms: 166980\n  end_ms: 167230\n- text: Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  start_ms: 167230\n  end_ms: 168490\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 168490\n  end_ms: 172150\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 172150\n  end_ms: 173960\n- text: Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  start_ms: 173960\n  end_ms: 177110\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 177110\n  end_ms: 178980\n- text: These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  start_ms: 178980\n  end_ms: 180570\n- text: Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  start_ms: 180570\n  end_ms: 183690\n- text: Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  start_ms: 183690\n  end_ms: 185910\n- text: Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  start_ms: 185910\n  end_ms: 188800\n- text: Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  start_ms: 188800\n  end_ms: 191220\n- text: Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  start_ms: 191220\n  end_ms: 193890\n- text: Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  start_ms: 193890\n  end_ms: 196160\n- text: It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  start_ms: 196160\n  end_ms: 198220\n- text: How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 198220\n  end_ms: 201130\n- text: Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 201130\n  end_ms: 203750\n- text: A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 203750\n  end_ms: 205800\n- text: Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  start_ms: 205800\n  end_ms: 208410\n- text: Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  start_ms: 208410\n  end_ms: 211040\n- text: From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  start_ms: 211040\n  end_ms: 212600\n- text: It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  start_ms: 212600\n  end_ms: 215540\n- text: Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  start_ms: 215540\n  end_ms: 218620\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 218620\n  end_ms: 220970\n- text: Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  start_ms: 220970\n  end_ms: 223010\n- text: Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  start_ms: 223010\n  end_ms: 226230\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 226230\n  end_ms: 239520\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 239520\nplain: |-\n  This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\n  I'm handlin' you frauds\n  These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  I'm bandages and gauze\n  Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  But I'm havin' a menage\n  Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  I'm managin' my odds\n  Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  That was part uno, this is part two though\n\n  This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  How much did I use to drink\n  I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n  Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  Knowing they daffodils\n  I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  And that says \"laciryl\"\n  And that's exactly how I feel\n  Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  (House Gang what up!)\n  Other groups basic mergers\n  We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n"},{"id":3684614,"name":"Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)","trackName":"Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)","artistName":"PRhyme feat. Slaughterhouse","albumName":"PRhyme","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\nI'm handlin' you frauds\nThese wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\nI'm bandages and gauze\nCrooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\nBut I'm havin' a menage\nFuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\nI'm managin' my odds\nMan these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\nTake the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\nSlaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\nFuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\nFuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\nMarch into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\nYou call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\nI turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\nToe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\nAnd Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\nThat was part uno, this is part two though\n\nThis the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\nThe competition fell back, niggas ask\nHow much did I use to drink\nI tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\nKinda like Pharrell's hat\nBut all jokes aside like I ordered fries\nI'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\nBefore police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\nAnd Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n(Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\nBefore niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\nYou let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\nSame shit, another nigga gotta die today\nMy bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\nWhinin' all the time, all she do was holler\nWe ain't like a Pagan holiday\nRappers will, be actin' ill\nKnowing they daffodils\nI take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\nAnd that says \"laciryl\"\nAnd that's exactly how I feel\nShout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nOh you don't, don't let me learn yah\nI body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\nThe nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\nThe gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n(House Gang what up!)\nOther groups basic mergers\nWe extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\nDrama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\nYou can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\nWe started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\nFuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\nBrothers for real, I can honestly say\nIf you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\nMeet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\nShady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n(Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\nNah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nToo many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nThese niggas might play cray, try slay me\nOff my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\nRight footed melee, strapped a light AK\nEvery bar get in the face like Ice JJ\nDo it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\nCould've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\nStill, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\nIt's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\nHow I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\nDrake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\nA hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\nBanana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\nCause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\nFrom the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\nIt's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\nCall a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nBring it back to life, I murder that microphone\nToo many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.03] This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n[00:19.75] I'm handlin' you frauds\n[00:21.63] These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n[00:24.69] I'm bandages and gauze\n[00:26.29] Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n[00:29.39] But I'm havin' a menage\n[00:30.86] Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n[00:33.26] I'm managin' my odds\n[00:34.43] Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n[00:36.74] Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n[00:39.54] Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n[00:42.02] Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n[00:44.57] Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n[00:47.28] March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n[00:49.60] You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n[00:51.94] I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n[00:54.60] Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n[00:57.07] And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n[01:00.26] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:02.87] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:04.47] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[01:07.03] That was part uno, this is part two though\n[01:09.20] This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n[01:11.93] The competition fell back, niggas ask\n[01:14.00] How much did I use to drink\n[01:15.73] I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n[01:18.03] Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n[01:19.34] But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n[01:21.35] I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n[01:24.41] Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n[01:27.56] And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n[01:29.28] (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n[01:31.76] 'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n[01:33.59] Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n[01:36.47] You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n[01:38.65] Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n[01:41.48] My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n[01:43.84] (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n[01:45.62] Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n[01:47.62] We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n[01:49.18] Rappers will, be actin' ill\n[01:51.07] Knowing they daffodils\n[01:52.24] I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n[01:54.26] And that says \"laciryl\"\n[01:55.85] And that's exactly how I feel\n[01:57.24] Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n[01:59.60] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:02.16] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:03.91] I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n[02:06.37] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:08.53] Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n[02:10.38] I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n[02:12.81] The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n[02:14.84] The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n[02:17.82] (House Gang what up!)\n[02:18.81] Other groups basic mergers\n[02:20.46] We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n[02:22.97] Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n[02:25.25] You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n[02:28.01] We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n[02:30.98] Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n[02:33.52] Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n[02:35.20] If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n[02:38.53] Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n[02:40.92] Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n[02:43.57] (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n[02:45.39] Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n[02:47.70] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:51.51] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:53.42] Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n[02:55.92] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:58.00] These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n[03:00.29] Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n[03:03.06] Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n[03:05.56] Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n[03:08.14] Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n[03:10.31] Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n[03:12.87] Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n[03:15.11] It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n[03:17.72] How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n[03:20.54] Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n[03:22.94] A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n[03:25.21] Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n[03:27.85] Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n[03:29.98] From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n[03:32.53] It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n[03:35.46] Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n[03:38.75] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[03:40.89] Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n[03:42.72] Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n[03:45.36] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[03:57.47] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)\n  artist: PRhyme feat. Slaughterhouse\n  album: PRhyme\n  duration_ms: 239000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 19750\n- text: I'm handlin' you frauds\n  start_ms: 19750\n  end_ms: 21630\n- text: These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  start_ms: 21630\n  end_ms: 24690\n- text: I'm bandages and gauze\n  start_ms: 24690\n  end_ms: 26290\n- text: Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  start_ms: 26290\n  end_ms: 29390\n- text: But I'm havin' a menage\n  start_ms: 29390\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33260\n- text: I'm managin' my odds\n  start_ms: 33260\n  end_ms: 34430\n- text: Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  start_ms: 34430\n  end_ms: 36740\n- text: Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  start_ms: 36740\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42020\n- text: Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 42020\n  end_ms: 44570\n- text: Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  start_ms: 44570\n  end_ms: 47280\n- text: March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 47280\n  end_ms: 49600\n- text: You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  start_ms: 49600\n  end_ms: 51940\n- text: I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  start_ms: 51940\n  end_ms: 54600\n- text: Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  start_ms: 54600\n  end_ms: 57070\n- text: And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  start_ms: 57070\n  end_ms: 60260\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 60260\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 67030\n- text: That was part uno, this is part two though\n  start_ms: 67030\n  end_ms: 69200\n- text: This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  start_ms: 69200\n  end_ms: 71930\n- text: The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  start_ms: 71930\n  end_ms: 74000\n- text: How much did I use to drink\n  start_ms: 74000\n  end_ms: 75730\n- text: I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  start_ms: 75730\n  end_ms: 78030\n- text: Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  start_ms: 78030\n  end_ms: 79340\n- text: But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  start_ms: 79340\n  end_ms: 81350\n- text: I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  start_ms: 81350\n  end_ms: 84410\n- text: Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  start_ms: 84410\n  end_ms: 87560\n- text: And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  start_ms: 87560\n  end_ms: 89280\n- text: (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  start_ms: 89280\n  end_ms: 91760\n- text: '''Fore all of the jewelry, I''ve been baller'\n  start_ms: 91760\n  end_ms: 93590\n- text: Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  start_ms: 93590\n  end_ms: 96470\n- text: You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  start_ms: 96470\n  end_ms: 98650\n- text: Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  start_ms: 98650\n  end_ms: 101480\n- text: My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  start_ms: 101480\n  end_ms: 103840\n- text: (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  start_ms: 103840\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107620\n- text: We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  start_ms: 107620\n  end_ms: 109180\n- text: Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  start_ms: 109180\n  end_ms: 111070\n- text: Knowing they daffodils\n  start_ms: 111070\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 114260\n- text: And that says \"laciryl\"\n  start_ms: 114260\n  end_ms: 115850\n- text: And that's exactly how I feel\n  start_ms: 115850\n  end_ms: 117240\n- text: Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  start_ms: 117240\n  end_ms: 119600\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 119600\n  end_ms: 122160\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 122160\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126370\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 126370\n  end_ms: 128530\n- text: Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  start_ms: 128530\n  end_ms: 130380\n- text: I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  start_ms: 130380\n  end_ms: 132810\n- text: The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  start_ms: 132810\n  end_ms: 134840\n- text: The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  start_ms: 134840\n  end_ms: 137820\n- text: (House Gang what up!)\n  start_ms: 137820\n  end_ms: 138810\n- text: Other groups basic mergers\n  start_ms: 138810\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 142970\n- text: Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  start_ms: 142970\n  end_ms: 145250\n- text: You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  start_ms: 145250\n  end_ms: 148010\n- text: We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  start_ms: 148010\n  end_ms: 150980\n- text: Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  start_ms: 150980\n  end_ms: 153520\n- text: Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  start_ms: 153520\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 158530\n- text: Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  start_ms: 158530\n  end_ms: 160920\n- text: Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  start_ms: 160920\n  end_ms: 163570\n- text: (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  start_ms: 163570\n  end_ms: 165390\n- text: Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  start_ms: 165390\n  end_ms: 167700\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 167700\n  end_ms: 171510\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 171510\n  end_ms: 173420\n- text: Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  start_ms: 173420\n  end_ms: 175920\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 175920\n  end_ms: 178000\n- text: These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  start_ms: 178000\n  end_ms: 180290\n- text: Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  start_ms: 180290\n  end_ms: 183060\n- text: Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  start_ms: 183060\n  end_ms: 185560\n- text: Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  start_ms: 185560\n  end_ms: 188140\n- text: Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  start_ms: 188140\n  end_ms: 190310\n- text: Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  start_ms: 190310\n  end_ms: 192870\n- text: Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  start_ms: 192870\n  end_ms: 195110\n- text: It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  start_ms: 195110\n  end_ms: 197720\n- text: How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 197720\n  end_ms: 200540\n- text: Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 200540\n  end_ms: 202940\n- text: A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 202940\n  end_ms: 205210\n- text: Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  start_ms: 205210\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 209980\n- text: From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  start_ms: 209980\n  end_ms: 212530\n- text: It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  start_ms: 212530\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218750\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 218750\n  end_ms: 220890\n- text: Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  start_ms: 220890\n  end_ms: 222720\n- text: Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  start_ms: 222720\n  end_ms: 225360\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 225360\n  end_ms: 237470\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 237470\nplain: |-\n  This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\n  I'm handlin' you frauds\n  These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  I'm bandages and gauze\n  Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  But I'm havin' a menage\n  Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  I'm managin' my odds\n  Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  That was part uno, this is part two though\n\n  This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  How much did I use to drink\n  I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n  Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  Knowing they daffodils\n  I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  And that says \"laciryl\"\n  And that's exactly how I feel\n  Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  (House Gang what up!)\n  Other groups basic mergers\n  We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n"},{"id":28961271,"name":"Microphone (feat. Kid Vishis)","trackName":"Microphone (feat. Kid Vishis)","artistName":"Horseshoe Gang","albumName":"Slaughterhouse Records","duration":278.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"Imagine a rapping Dr. Sebi on a Dr. Dre beat\nZulu, Shaka maybe, I'ma cock three 80s\nOgun, you all unlocking old soul\nI'm a decoder with a microphone, I'm Chewbacca stone cold\nI'm voodoo, scientific and I invented\nWriting fire shit that shits off the wall, that's called pyroglyphics\nI fire lyrics like a drive-by when I'm by your district\nOutside your crib with that ra-ra then I slide that clip in\nTo the microphone, I'll rap until I bag a singer\nRihanna my BM, throwing a W out that black Beamer\n\nShoot you dead in your leg bone when I clap ninas\nIt's like you are what you shoot at cause I'm a blasphemer\n\nThe lyrical Sun Tzu jocks Ninjutsu on a Senzu bean\nMy sensei Pac, I told you niggas before when my mixtape drop\nYou men'll pause, in other words men straight stop\nFucking around with a G on that microphone\nBusting it down to a key on that microphone\nThe new NWA on that microphone\n\nThe Cube you love and then hate on that microphone\n\nI'm Jesus talking to God on that microphone\n\nI'm C walking on water on microphone\nYou drown in a fountain of youth on that microphone\nThat mean you niggas die young when that mic is on\n\nSay you gonna do A and B, homie let's see\nI'm not your average Joe, maybe Pesci\nThis beast has yet to eat, this track is fresh meat\nI'ma son this track and leave, this a dead beat\nMove like a chess piece, plan steps correctly\n\nNiggas'll lie on you like a bedsheet\nPeople'll turn on you like the next street\nI'ma be up front like the best seats\nPoint my rod and open sesame\nI'll part your body like the Red Sea\n\nFuck the BS, I'll flex and then flex again, call it reflex\n\nI don't got a rake now to make piles of green\nFind a hater's crib, play butler, they house get cleaned\nY'all fast food to me, I'ma take out your team\nI want all the beef, I'm a steakhouse's dream\nHit your home stu' then stroll through your whole crew\nWalk inside your microphone booth, hear \"Don't shoot\"\nGun sound off like it's on mute\nI told you don't be fucking around on that microphone\nNow your homies heard a round on that microphone\nDown for not getting down on that microphone\n\nTold you not to make a sound on that microphone\nI'm a beast, I'ma eat on that microphone\nWoke nigga losing sleep on that microphone\nIt's where I get beside myself like I'm a clone\nCOVID shit, you six feet on that microphone\n\nNah, don't fuck with me cause I grip the blammy\nLike Trey Songz getting back with Lori, trigger happy\nI told you I'm a son of a gun\nThat's why I call my gun pops\nMy extendo clip is extended family\nCall me your lord\nMy weapons formed against you gon' prosper\nSwing a sword like Tekken, Yoshimitsu, a monster\nBring the war, you bet I won't be civil\nWe hit Detroit, we record in Heaven's Holy Temple with Cops\n\nI'm finna be snacking on wack rappers corpses\nRavenous, half animal man, I'm anthropomorphic\nAt niggas doors, when you hear that hard knock\nLife is over for you, turn your daughter to Annie the orphan\n\nSheesh, talk about reckless\nCOB flag hanging, I be walking 'round repping\nLadies and gentlemen we present to you Slaughterhouse Records\nShooting with that 30 on me, I ain't talking 'bout Stephen\n\nFor the free bitches rock on my microphone\nYou put green on that box just like Patron\nNiggas like us was born on the microphone\nMy umbilical cord was a microphone\nCall up the team, we war on the microphone\nArmy fatigue when I record on the microphones\nCall us the abattoir on the microphones\nI mean we another slaughter on microphones\n\nThese featherweights, we set 'em straight then elevate\nSend Leatherface to Heaven's gate then meditate\nSet a date, meet up at high noon\nWith five goons, take ten paces and let it spray\nWe chase rappers, we don't withstand bloggers\nDie running, you a quicksand jogger\nShoot the fade like a hitman barber\nI let off a round, you do a roundhouse\nAnd we can see who kick back harder, nigga\nWe can't find you, it's where your mama and dad at\n\nDome shot blow out your brain, won't get your data back\nHands on with it, I don't battle rap\nVicious hooks like fishing hooks snatching rappers out they habitats\nThey doubt that I'm 'bout it, gun in the holster\nI ain't have to pull the pistol out it\nI could punch a quarter and knock two dimes and a nickel out it\nAnd it's gon' cost you a pretty penny\nThese rappers is mini Bennys\nWhy would we argue with our sons on that microphone?\nI eat these rappers, leave crumbs on that microphone\n\nYou shouldn't rap until we done with the microphone\nI'm Pac, Biggie, and Pun on that microphone\n\nIt's gon' be hard for you to breathe on that microphone\n\nI take the air out an MC on that microphone\nGive you pain behind these bars, get my Rikers on\nYou gon' appreciate the mic when your mic is gone","syncedLyrics":null,"lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone (feat. Kid Vishis)\n  artist: Horseshoe Gang\n  album: Slaughterhouse Records\n  duration_ms: 278000\n  instrumental: false\nlines: []\nplain: |-\n  Imagine a rapping Dr. Sebi on a Dr. Dre beat\n  Zulu, Shaka maybe, I'ma cock three 80s\n  Ogun, you all unlocking old soul\n  I'm a decoder with a microphone, I'm Chewbacca stone cold\n  I'm voodoo, scientific and I invented\n  Writing fire shit that shits off the wall, that's called pyroglyphics\n  I fire lyrics like a drive-by when I'm by your district\n  Outside your crib with that ra-ra then I slide that clip in\n  To the microphone, I'll rap until I bag a singer\n  Rihanna my BM, throwing a W out that black Beamer\n\n  Shoot you dead in your leg bone when I clap ninas\n  It's like you are what you shoot at cause I'm a blasphemer\n\n  The lyrical Sun Tzu jocks Ninjutsu on a Senzu bean\n  My sensei Pac, I told you niggas before when my mixtape drop\n  You men'll pause, in other words men straight stop\n  Fucking around with a G on that microphone\n  Busting it down to a key on that microphone\n  The new NWA on that microphone\n\n  The Cube you love and then hate on that microphone\n\n  I'm Jesus talking to God on that microphone\n\n  I'm C walking on water on microphone\n  You drown in a fountain of youth on that microphone\n  That mean you niggas die young when that mic is on\n\n  Say you gonna do A and B, homie let's see\n  I'm not your average Joe, maybe Pesci\n  This beast has yet to eat, this track is fresh meat\n  I'ma son this track and leave, this a dead beat\n  Move like a chess piece, plan steps correctly\n\n  Niggas'll lie on you like a bedsheet\n  People'll turn on you like the next street\n  I'ma be up front like the best seats\n  Point my rod and open sesame\n  I'll part your body like the Red Sea\n\n  Fuck the BS, I'll flex and then flex again, call it reflex\n\n  I don't got a rake now to make piles of green\n  Find a hater's crib, play butler, they house get cleaned\n  Y'all fast food to me, I'ma take out your team\n  I want all the beef, I'm a steakhouse's dream\n  Hit your home stu' then stroll through your whole crew\n  Walk inside your microphone booth, hear \"Don't shoot\"\n  Gun sound off like it's on mute\n  I told you don't be fucking around on that microphone\n  Now your homies heard a round on that microphone\n  Down for not getting down on that microphone\n\n  Told you not to make a sound on that microphone\n  I'm a beast, I'ma eat on that microphone\n  Woke nigga losing sleep on that microphone\n  It's where I get beside myself like I'm a clone\n  COVID shit, you six feet on that microphone\n\n  Nah, don't fuck with me cause I grip the blammy\n  Like Trey Songz getting back with Lori, trigger happy\n  I told you I'm a son of a gun\n  That's why I call my gun pops\n  My extendo clip is extended family\n  Call me your lord\n  My weapons formed against you gon' prosper\n  Swing a sword like Tekken, Yoshimitsu, a monster\n  Bring the war, you bet I won't be civil\n  We hit Detroit, we record in Heaven's Holy Temple with Cops\n\n  I'm finna be snacking on wack rappers corpses\n  Ravenous, half animal man, I'm anthropomorphic\n  At niggas doors, when you hear that hard knock\n  Life is over for you, turn your daughter to Annie the orphan\n\n  Sheesh, talk about reckless\n  COB flag hanging, I be walking 'round repping\n  Ladies and gentlemen we present to you Slaughterhouse Records\n  Shooting with that 30 on me, I ain't talking 'bout Stephen\n\n  For the free bitches rock on my microphone\n  You put green on that box just like Patron\n  Niggas like us was born on the microphone\n  My umbilical cord was a microphone\n  Call up the team, we war on the microphone\n  Army fatigue when I record on the microphones\n  Call us the abattoir on the microphones\n  I mean we another slaughter on microphones\n\n  These featherweights, we set 'em straight then elevate\n  Send Leatherface to Heaven's gate then meditate\n  Set a date, meet up at high noon\n  With five goons, take ten paces and let it spray\n  We chase rappers, we don't withstand bloggers\n  Die running, you a quicksand jogger\n  Shoot the fade like a hitman barber\n  I let off a round, you do a roundhouse\n  And we can see who kick back harder, nigga\n  We can't find you, it's where your mama and dad at\n\n  Dome shot blow out your brain, won't get your data back\n  Hands on with it, I don't battle rap\n  Vicious hooks like fishing hooks snatching rappers out they habitats\n  They doubt that I'm 'bout it, gun in the holster\n  I ain't have to pull the pistol out it\n  I could punch a quarter and knock two dimes and a nickel out it\n  And it's gon' cost you a pretty penny\n  These rappers is mini Bennys\n  Why would we argue with our sons on that microphone?\n  I eat these rappers, leave crumbs on that microphone\n\n  You shouldn't rap until we done with the microphone\n  I'm Pac, Biggie, and Pun on that microphone\n\n  It's gon' be hard for you to breathe on that microphone\n\n  I take the air out an MC on that microphone\n  Give you pain behind these bars, get my Rikers on\n  You gon' appreciate the mic when your mic is gone\n"},{"id":22175803,"name":"Microphone Preem","trackName":"Microphone Preem","artistName":"PRhyme & Slaughterhouse","albumName":"PRhyme","duration":240.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\nI'm handlin' you frauds\nThese wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\nI'm bandages and gauze\nCrooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\nBut I'm havin' a menage\nFuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\nI'm managin' my odds\nMan these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\nTake the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\nSlaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\nFuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\nFuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\nMarch into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\nYou call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\nI turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\nToe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\nAnd Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\nThat was part uno, this is part two though\n\nThis the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\nThe competition fell back, niggas ask\nHow much did I use to drink\nI tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\nKinda like Pharrell's hat\nBut all jokes aside like I ordered fries\nI'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\nBefore police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\nAnd Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n(Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\nBefore niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\nYou let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\nSame shit, another nigga gotta die today\nMy bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\nWhinin' all the time, all she do was holler\nWe ain't like a Pagan holiday\nRappers will, be actin' ill\nKnowing they daffodils\nI take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\nAnd that says \"laciryl\"\nAnd that's exactly how I feel\nShout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nOh you don't, don't let me learn yah\nI body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\nThe nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\nThe gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n(House Gang what up!)\nOther groups basic mergers\nWe extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\nDrama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\nYou can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\nWe started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\nFuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\nBrothers for real, I can honestly say\nIf you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\nMeet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\nShady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n(Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\nNah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nToo many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nThese niggas might play cray, try slay me\nOff my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\nRight footed melee, strapped a light AK\nEvery bar get in the face like Ice JJ\nDo it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\nCould've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\nStill, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\nIt's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\nHow I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\nDrake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\nA hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\nBanana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\nCause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\nFrom the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\nIt's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\nCall a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nBring it back to life, I murder that microphone\nToo many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.03] This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n[00:19.75] I'm handlin' you frauds\n[00:21.63] These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n[00:24.69] I'm bandages and gauze\n[00:26.29] Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n[00:29.39] But I'm havin' a menage\n[00:30.86] Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n[00:33.26] I'm managin' my odds\n[00:34.43] Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n[00:36.74] Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n[00:39.54] Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n[00:42.02] Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n[00:44.57] Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n[00:47.28] March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n[00:49.60] You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n[00:51.94] I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n[00:54.60] Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n[00:57.07] And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n[01:00.26] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:02.87] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:04.47] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[01:07.03] That was part uno, this is part two though\n[01:09.20] This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n[01:11.93] The competition fell back, niggas ask\n[01:14.00] How much did I use to drink\n[01:15.73] I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n[01:18.03] Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n[01:19.34] But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n[01:21.35] I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n[01:24.41] Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n[01:27.56] And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n[01:29.28] (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n[01:31.76] 'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n[01:33.59] Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n[01:36.47] You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n[01:38.65] Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n[01:41.48] My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n[01:43.84] (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n[01:45.62] Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n[01:47.62] We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n[01:49.18] Rappers will, be actin' ill\n[01:51.07] Knowing they daffodils\n[01:52.24] I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n[01:54.26] And that says \"laciryl\"\n[01:55.85] And that's exactly how I feel\n[01:57.24] Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n[01:59.60] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:02.16] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:03.91] I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n[02:06.37] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:08.53] Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n[02:10.38] I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n[02:12.81] The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n[02:14.84] The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n[02:17.82] (House Gang what up!)\n[02:18.81] Other groups basic mergers\n[02:20.46] We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n[02:22.97] Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n[02:25.25] You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n[02:28.01] We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n[02:30.98] Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n[02:33.52] Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n[02:35.20] If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n[02:38.53] Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n[02:40.92] Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n[02:43.57] (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n[02:45.39] Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n[02:47.70] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:51.51] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:53.42] Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n[02:55.92] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:58.00] These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n[03:00.29] Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n[03:03.06] Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n[03:05.56] Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n[03:08.14] Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n[03:10.31] Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n[03:12.87] Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n[03:15.11] It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n[03:17.72] How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n[03:20.54] Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n[03:22.94] A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n[03:25.21] Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n[03:27.85] Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n[03:29.98] From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n[03:32.53] It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n[03:35.46] Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n[03:38.75] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[03:40.89] Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n[03:42.72] Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n[03:45.36] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[03:57.47] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone Preem\n  artist: PRhyme & Slaughterhouse\n  album: PRhyme\n  duration_ms: 240000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 19750\n- text: I'm handlin' you frauds\n  start_ms: 19750\n  end_ms: 21630\n- text: These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  start_ms: 21630\n  end_ms: 24690\n- text: I'm bandages and gauze\n  start_ms: 24690\n  end_ms: 26290\n- text: Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  start_ms: 26290\n  end_ms: 29390\n- text: But I'm havin' a menage\n  start_ms: 29390\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33260\n- text: I'm managin' my odds\n  start_ms: 33260\n  end_ms: 34430\n- text: Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  start_ms: 34430\n  end_ms: 36740\n- text: Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  start_ms: 36740\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42020\n- text: Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 42020\n  end_ms: 44570\n- text: Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  start_ms: 44570\n  end_ms: 47280\n- text: March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 47280\n  end_ms: 49600\n- text: You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  start_ms: 49600\n  end_ms: 51940\n- text: I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  start_ms: 51940\n  end_ms: 54600\n- text: Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  start_ms: 54600\n  end_ms: 57070\n- text: And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  start_ms: 57070\n  end_ms: 60260\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 60260\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 67030\n- text: That was part uno, this is part two though\n  start_ms: 67030\n  end_ms: 69200\n- text: This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  start_ms: 69200\n  end_ms: 71930\n- text: The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  start_ms: 71930\n  end_ms: 74000\n- text: How much did I use to drink\n  start_ms: 74000\n  end_ms: 75730\n- text: I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  start_ms: 75730\n  end_ms: 78030\n- text: Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  start_ms: 78030\n  end_ms: 79340\n- text: But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  start_ms: 79340\n  end_ms: 81350\n- text: I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  start_ms: 81350\n  end_ms: 84410\n- text: Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  start_ms: 84410\n  end_ms: 87560\n- text: And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  start_ms: 87560\n  end_ms: 89280\n- text: (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  start_ms: 89280\n  end_ms: 91760\n- text: '''Fore all of the jewelry, I''ve been baller'\n  start_ms: 91760\n  end_ms: 93590\n- text: Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  start_ms: 93590\n  end_ms: 96470\n- text: You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  start_ms: 96470\n  end_ms: 98650\n- text: Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  start_ms: 98650\n  end_ms: 101480\n- text: My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  start_ms: 101480\n  end_ms: 103840\n- text: (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  start_ms: 103840\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107620\n- text: We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  start_ms: 107620\n  end_ms: 109180\n- text: Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  start_ms: 109180\n  end_ms: 111070\n- text: Knowing they daffodils\n  start_ms: 111070\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 114260\n- text: And that says \"laciryl\"\n  start_ms: 114260\n  end_ms: 115850\n- text: And that's exactly how I feel\n  start_ms: 115850\n  end_ms: 117240\n- text: Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  start_ms: 117240\n  end_ms: 119600\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 119600\n  end_ms: 122160\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 122160\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126370\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 126370\n  end_ms: 128530\n- text: Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  start_ms: 128530\n  end_ms: 130380\n- text: I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  start_ms: 130380\n  end_ms: 132810\n- text: The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  start_ms: 132810\n  end_ms: 134840\n- text: The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  start_ms: 134840\n  end_ms: 137820\n- text: (House Gang what up!)\n  start_ms: 137820\n  end_ms: 138810\n- text: Other groups basic mergers\n  start_ms: 138810\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 142970\n- text: Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  start_ms: 142970\n  end_ms: 145250\n- text: You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  start_ms: 145250\n  end_ms: 148010\n- text: We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  start_ms: 148010\n  end_ms: 150980\n- text: Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  start_ms: 150980\n  end_ms: 153520\n- text: Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  start_ms: 153520\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 158530\n- text: Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  start_ms: 158530\n  end_ms: 160920\n- text: Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  start_ms: 160920\n  end_ms: 163570\n- text: (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  start_ms: 163570\n  end_ms: 165390\n- text: Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  start_ms: 165390\n  end_ms: 167700\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 167700\n  end_ms: 171510\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 171510\n  end_ms: 173420\n- text: Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  start_ms: 173420\n  end_ms: 175920\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 175920\n  end_ms: 178000\n- text: These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  start_ms: 178000\n  end_ms: 180290\n- text: Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  start_ms: 180290\n  end_ms: 183060\n- text: Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  start_ms: 183060\n  end_ms: 185560\n- text: Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  start_ms: 185560\n  end_ms: 188140\n- text: Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  start_ms: 188140\n  end_ms: 190310\n- text: Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  start_ms: 190310\n  end_ms: 192870\n- text: Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  start_ms: 192870\n  end_ms: 195110\n- text: It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  start_ms: 195110\n  end_ms: 197720\n- text: How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 197720\n  end_ms: 200540\n- text: Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 200540\n  end_ms: 202940\n- text: A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 202940\n  end_ms: 205210\n- text: Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  start_ms: 205210\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 209980\n- text: From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  start_ms: 209980\n  end_ms: 212530\n- text: It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  start_ms: 212530\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218750\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 218750\n  end_ms: 220890\n- text: Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  start_ms: 220890\n  end_ms: 222720\n- text: Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  start_ms: 222720\n  end_ms: 225360\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 225360\n  end_ms: 237470\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 237470\nplain: |-\n  This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\n  I'm handlin' you frauds\n  These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  I'm bandages and gauze\n  Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  But I'm havin' a menage\n  Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  I'm managin' my odds\n  Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  That was part uno, this is part two though\n\n  This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  How much did I use to drink\n  I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n  Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  Knowing they daffodils\n  I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  And that says \"laciryl\"\n  And that's exactly how I feel\n  Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  (House Gang what up!)\n  Other groups basic mergers\n  We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n"},{"id":3949102,"name":"Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)","trackName":"Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)","artistName":"PRhyme","albumName":"PRhyme","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\nI'm handlin' you frauds\nThese wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\nI'm bandages and gauze\nCrooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\nBut I'm havin' a menage\nFuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\nI'm managin' my odds\nMan these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\nTake the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\nSlaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\nFuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\nFuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\nMarch into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\nYou call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\nI turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\nToe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\nAnd Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\nThat was part uno, this is part two though\n\nThis the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\nThe competition fell back, niggas ask\nHow much did I use to drink\nI tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\nKinda like Pharrell's hat\nBut all jokes aside like I ordered fries\nI'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\nBefore police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\nAnd Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n(Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\nBefore niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\nYou let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\nSame shit, another nigga gotta die today\nMy bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\nWhinin' all the time, all she do was holler\nWe ain't like a Pagan holiday\nRappers will, be actin' ill\nKnowing they daffodils\nI take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\nAnd that says \"laciryl\"\nAnd that's exactly how I feel\nShout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nOh you don't, don't let me learn yah\nI body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\nThe nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\nThe gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n(House Gang what up!)\nOther groups basic mergers\nWe extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\nDrama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\nYou can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\nWe started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\nFuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\nBrothers for real, I can honestly say\nIf you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\nMeet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\nShady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n(Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\nNah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nToo many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nThese niggas might play cray, try slay me\nOff my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\nRight footed melee, strapped a light AK\nEvery bar get in the face like Ice JJ\nDo it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\nCould've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\nStill, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\nIt's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\nHow I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\nDrake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\nA hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\nBanana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\nCause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\nFrom the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\nIt's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\nCall a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nBring it back to life, I murder that microphone\nToo many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.03] This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n[00:19.75] I'm handlin' you frauds\n[00:21.63] These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n[00:24.69] I'm bandages and gauze\n[00:26.29] Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n[00:29.39] But I'm havin' a menage\n[00:30.86] Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n[00:33.26] I'm managin' my odds\n[00:34.43] Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n[00:36.74] Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n[00:39.54] Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n[00:42.02] Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n[00:44.57] Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n[00:47.28] March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n[00:49.60] You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n[00:51.94] I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n[00:54.60] Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n[00:57.07] And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n[01:00.26] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:02.87] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:04.47] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[01:07.03] That was part uno, this is part two though\n[01:09.20] This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n[01:11.93] The competition fell back, niggas ask\n[01:14.00] How much did I use to drink\n[01:15.73] I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n[01:18.03] Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n[01:19.34] But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n[01:21.35] I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n[01:24.41] Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n[01:27.56] And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n[01:29.28] (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n[01:31.76] 'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n[01:33.59] Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n[01:36.47] You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n[01:38.65] Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n[01:41.48] My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n[01:43.84] (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n[01:45.62] Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n[01:47.62] We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n[01:49.18] Rappers will, be actin' ill\n[01:51.07] Knowing they daffodils\n[01:52.24] I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n[01:54.26] And that says \"laciryl\"\n[01:55.85] And that's exactly how I feel\n[01:57.24] Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n[01:59.60] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:02.16] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:03.91] I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n[02:06.37] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:08.53] Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n[02:10.38] I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n[02:12.81] The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n[02:14.84] The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n[02:17.82] (House Gang what up!)\n[02:18.81] Other groups basic mergers\n[02:20.46] We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n[02:22.97] Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n[02:25.25] You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n[02:28.01] We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n[02:30.98] Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n[02:33.52] Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n[02:35.20] If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n[02:38.53] Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n[02:40.92] Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n[02:43.57] (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n[02:45.39] Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n[02:47.70] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:51.51] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:53.42] Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n[02:55.92] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:58.00] These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n[03:00.29] Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n[03:03.06] Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n[03:05.56] Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n[03:08.14] Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n[03:10.31] Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n[03:12.87] Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n[03:15.11] It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n[03:17.72] How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n[03:20.54] Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n[03:22.94] A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n[03:25.21] Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n[03:27.85] Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n[03:29.98] From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n[03:32.53] It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n[03:35.46] Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n[03:38.75] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[03:40.89] Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n[03:42.72] Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n[03:45.36] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[03:57.47] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)\n  artist: PRhyme\n  album: PRhyme\n  duration_ms: 239000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 19750\n- text: I'm handlin' you frauds\n  start_ms: 19750\n  end_ms: 21630\n- text: These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  start_ms: 21630\n  end_ms: 24690\n- text: I'm bandages and gauze\n  start_ms: 24690\n  end_ms: 26290\n- text: Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  start_ms: 26290\n  end_ms: 29390\n- text: But I'm havin' a menage\n  start_ms: 29390\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33260\n- text: I'm managin' my odds\n  start_ms: 33260\n  end_ms: 34430\n- text: Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  start_ms: 34430\n  end_ms: 36740\n- text: Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  start_ms: 36740\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42020\n- text: Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 42020\n  end_ms: 44570\n- text: Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  start_ms: 44570\n  end_ms: 47280\n- text: March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 47280\n  end_ms: 49600\n- text: You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  start_ms: 49600\n  end_ms: 51940\n- text: I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  start_ms: 51940\n  end_ms: 54600\n- text: Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  start_ms: 54600\n  end_ms: 57070\n- text: And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  start_ms: 57070\n  end_ms: 60260\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 60260\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 67030\n- text: That was part uno, this is part two though\n  start_ms: 67030\n  end_ms: 69200\n- text: This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  start_ms: 69200\n  end_ms: 71930\n- text: The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  start_ms: 71930\n  end_ms: 74000\n- text: How much did I use to drink\n  start_ms: 74000\n  end_ms: 75730\n- text: I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  start_ms: 75730\n  end_ms: 78030\n- text: Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  start_ms: 78030\n  end_ms: 79340\n- text: But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  start_ms: 79340\n  end_ms: 81350\n- text: I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  start_ms: 81350\n  end_ms: 84410\n- text: Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  start_ms: 84410\n  end_ms: 87560\n- text: And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  start_ms: 87560\n  end_ms: 89280\n- text: (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  start_ms: 89280\n  end_ms: 91760\n- text: '''Fore all of the jewelry, I''ve been baller'\n  start_ms: 91760\n  end_ms: 93590\n- text: Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  start_ms: 93590\n  end_ms: 96470\n- text: You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  start_ms: 96470\n  end_ms: 98650\n- text: Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  start_ms: 98650\n  end_ms: 101480\n- text: My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  start_ms: 101480\n  end_ms: 103840\n- text: (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  start_ms: 103840\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107620\n- text: We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  start_ms: 107620\n  end_ms: 109180\n- text: Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  start_ms: 109180\n  end_ms: 111070\n- text: Knowing they daffodils\n  start_ms: 111070\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 114260\n- text: And that says \"laciryl\"\n  start_ms: 114260\n  end_ms: 115850\n- text: And that's exactly how I feel\n  start_ms: 115850\n  end_ms: 117240\n- text: Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  start_ms: 117240\n  end_ms: 119600\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 119600\n  end_ms: 122160\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 122160\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126370\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 126370\n  end_ms: 128530\n- text: Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  start_ms: 128530\n  end_ms: 130380\n- text: I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  start_ms: 130380\n  end_ms: 132810\n- text: The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  start_ms: 132810\n  end_ms: 134840\n- text: The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  start_ms: 134840\n  end_ms: 137820\n- text: (House Gang what up!)\n  start_ms: 137820\n  end_ms: 138810\n- text: Other groups basic mergers\n  start_ms: 138810\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 142970\n- text: Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  start_ms: 142970\n  end_ms: 145250\n- text: You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  start_ms: 145250\n  end_ms: 148010\n- text: We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  start_ms: 148010\n  end_ms: 150980\n- text: Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  start_ms: 150980\n  end_ms: 153520\n- text: Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  start_ms: 153520\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 158530\n- text: Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  start_ms: 158530\n  end_ms: 160920\n- text: Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  start_ms: 160920\n  end_ms: 163570\n- text: (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  start_ms: 163570\n  end_ms: 165390\n- text: Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  start_ms: 165390\n  end_ms: 167700\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 167700\n  end_ms: 171510\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 171510\n  end_ms: 173420\n- text: Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  start_ms: 173420\n  end_ms: 175920\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 175920\n  end_ms: 178000\n- text: These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  start_ms: 178000\n  end_ms: 180290\n- text: Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  start_ms: 180290\n  end_ms: 183060\n- text: Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  start_ms: 183060\n  end_ms: 185560\n- text: Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  start_ms: 185560\n  end_ms: 188140\n- text: Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  start_ms: 188140\n  end_ms: 190310\n- text: Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  start_ms: 190310\n  end_ms: 192870\n- text: Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  start_ms: 192870\n  end_ms: 195110\n- text: It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  start_ms: 195110\n  end_ms: 197720\n- text: How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 197720\n  end_ms: 200540\n- text: Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 200540\n  end_ms: 202940\n- text: A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 202940\n  end_ms: 205210\n- text: Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  start_ms: 205210\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 209980\n- text: From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  start_ms: 209980\n  end_ms: 212530\n- text: It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  start_ms: 212530\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218750\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 218750\n  end_ms: 220890\n- text: Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  start_ms: 220890\n  end_ms: 222720\n- text: Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  start_ms: 222720\n  end_ms: 225360\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 225360\n  end_ms: 237470\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 237470\nplain: |-\n  This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\n  I'm handlin' you frauds\n  These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  I'm bandages and gauze\n  Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  But I'm havin' a menage\n  Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  I'm managin' my odds\n  Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  That was part uno, this is part two though\n\n  This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  How much did I use to drink\n  I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n  Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  Knowing they daffodils\n  I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  And that says \"laciryl\"\n  And that's exactly how I feel\n  Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  (House Gang what up!)\n  Other groups basic mergers\n  We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n"},{"id":3684615,"name":"Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)","trackName":"Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)","artistName":"PRhyme","albumName":"PRhyme (Deluxe Version)","duration":239.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\nI'm handlin' you frauds\nThese wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\nI'm bandages and gauze\nCrooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\nBut I'm havin' a menage\nFuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\nI'm managin' my odds\nMan these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\nTake the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\nSlaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\nFuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\nFuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\nMarch into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\nYou call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\nI turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\nToe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\nAnd Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nIf you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\nThat was part uno, this is part two though\n\nThis the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\nThe competition fell back, niggas ask\nHow much did I use to drink\nI tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\nKinda like Pharrell's hat\nBut all jokes aside like I ordered fries\nI'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\nBefore police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\nAnd Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n(Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\nBefore niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\nYou let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\nSame shit, another nigga gotta die today\nMy bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n(Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\nWhinin' all the time, all she do was holler\nWe ain't like a Pagan holiday\nRappers will, be actin' ill\nKnowing they daffodils\nI take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\nAnd that says \"laciryl\"\nAnd that's exactly how I feel\nShout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nOh you don't, don't let me learn yah\nI body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\nThe nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\nThe gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n(House Gang what up!)\nOther groups basic mergers\nWe extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\nDrama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\nYou can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\nWe started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\nFuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\nBrothers for real, I can honestly say\nIf you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\nMeet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\nShady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n(Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\nNah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nToo many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\nThese niggas might play cray, try slay me\nOff my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\nRight footed melee, strapped a light AK\nEvery bar get in the face like Ice JJ\nDo it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\nCould've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\nStill, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\nIt's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\nHow I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\nDrake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\nA hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\nBanana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\nCause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\nFrom the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\nIt's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\nCall a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\nI'm tryna murder the microphone\nBring it back to life, I murder that microphone\nToo many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n(That was part uno, this is part two though)","syncedLyrics":"[00:15.03] This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n[00:19.75] I'm handlin' you frauds\n[00:21.63] These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n[00:24.69] I'm bandages and gauze\n[00:26.29] Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n[00:29.39] But I'm havin' a menage\n[00:30.86] Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n[00:33.26] I'm managin' my odds\n[00:34.43] Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n[00:36.74] Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n[00:39.54] Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n[00:42.02] Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n[00:44.57] Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n[00:47.28] March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n[00:49.60] You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n[00:51.94] I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n[00:54.60] Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n[00:57.07] And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n[01:00.26] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:02.87] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[01:04.47] If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n[01:07.03] That was part uno, this is part two though\n[01:09.20] This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n[01:11.93] The competition fell back, niggas ask\n[01:14.00] How much did I use to drink\n[01:15.73] I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n[01:18.03] Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n[01:19.34] But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n[01:21.35] I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n[01:24.41] Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n[01:27.56] And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n[01:29.28] (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n[01:31.76] 'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n[01:33.59] Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n[01:36.47] You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n[01:38.65] Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n[01:41.48] My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n[01:43.84] (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n[01:45.62] Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n[01:47.62] We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n[01:49.18] Rappers will, be actin' ill\n[01:51.07] Knowing they daffodils\n[01:52.24] I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n[01:54.26] And that says \"laciryl\"\n[01:55.85] And that's exactly how I feel\n[01:57.24] Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n[01:59.60] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:02.16] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:03.91] I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n[02:06.37] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:08.53] Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n[02:10.38] I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n[02:12.81] The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n[02:14.84] The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n[02:17.82] (House Gang what up!)\n[02:18.81] Other groups basic mergers\n[02:20.46] We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n[02:22.97] Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n[02:25.25] You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n[02:28.01] We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n[02:30.98] Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n[02:33.52] Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n[02:35.20] If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n[02:38.53] Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n[02:40.92] Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n[02:43.57] (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n[02:45.39] Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n[02:47.70] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:51.51] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[02:53.42] Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n[02:55.92] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[02:58.00] These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n[03:00.29] Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n[03:03.06] Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n[03:05.56] Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n[03:08.14] Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n[03:10.31] Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n[03:12.87] Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n[03:15.11] It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n[03:17.72] How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n[03:20.54] Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n[03:22.94] A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n[03:25.21] Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n[03:27.85] Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n[03:29.98] From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n[03:32.53] It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n[03:35.46] Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n[03:38.75] I'm tryna murder the microphone\n[03:40.89] Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n[03:42.72] Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n[03:45.36] (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n[03:57.47] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Microphone Preem (feat. Slaughterhouse)\n  artist: PRhyme\n  album: PRhyme (Deluxe Version)\n  duration_ms: 239000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n  start_ms: 15030\n  end_ms: 19750\n- text: I'm handlin' you frauds\n  start_ms: 19750\n  end_ms: 21630\n- text: These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  start_ms: 21630\n  end_ms: 24690\n- text: I'm bandages and gauze\n  start_ms: 24690\n  end_ms: 26290\n- text: Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  start_ms: 26290\n  end_ms: 29390\n- text: But I'm havin' a menage\n  start_ms: 29390\n  end_ms: 30860\n- text: Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  start_ms: 30860\n  end_ms: 33260\n- text: I'm managin' my odds\n  start_ms: 33260\n  end_ms: 34430\n- text: Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  start_ms: 34430\n  end_ms: 36740\n- text: Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  start_ms: 36740\n  end_ms: 39540\n- text: Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  start_ms: 39540\n  end_ms: 42020\n- text: Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 42020\n  end_ms: 44570\n- text: Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  start_ms: 44570\n  end_ms: 47280\n- text: March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  start_ms: 47280\n  end_ms: 49600\n- text: You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  start_ms: 49600\n  end_ms: 51940\n- text: I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  start_ms: 51940\n  end_ms: 54600\n- text: Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  start_ms: 54600\n  end_ms: 57070\n- text: And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  start_ms: 57070\n  end_ms: 60260\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 60260\n  end_ms: 62870\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 62870\n  end_ms: 64470\n- text: If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  start_ms: 64470\n  end_ms: 67030\n- text: That was part uno, this is part two though\n  start_ms: 67030\n  end_ms: 69200\n- text: This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  start_ms: 69200\n  end_ms: 71930\n- text: The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  start_ms: 71930\n  end_ms: 74000\n- text: How much did I use to drink\n  start_ms: 74000\n  end_ms: 75730\n- text: I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  start_ms: 75730\n  end_ms: 78030\n- text: Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  start_ms: 78030\n  end_ms: 79340\n- text: But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  start_ms: 79340\n  end_ms: 81350\n- text: I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  start_ms: 81350\n  end_ms: 84410\n- text: Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  start_ms: 84410\n  end_ms: 87560\n- text: And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  start_ms: 87560\n  end_ms: 89280\n- text: (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  start_ms: 89280\n  end_ms: 91760\n- text: '''Fore all of the jewelry, I''ve been baller'\n  start_ms: 91760\n  end_ms: 93590\n- text: Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  start_ms: 93590\n  end_ms: 96470\n- text: You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  start_ms: 96470\n  end_ms: 98650\n- text: Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  start_ms: 98650\n  end_ms: 101480\n- text: My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  start_ms: 101480\n  end_ms: 103840\n- text: (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  start_ms: 103840\n  end_ms: 105620\n- text: Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  start_ms: 105620\n  end_ms: 107620\n- text: We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  start_ms: 107620\n  end_ms: 109180\n- text: Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  start_ms: 109180\n  end_ms: 111070\n- text: Knowing they daffodils\n  start_ms: 111070\n  end_ms: 112240\n- text: I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  start_ms: 112240\n  end_ms: 114260\n- text: And that says \"laciryl\"\n  start_ms: 114260\n  end_ms: 115850\n- text: And that's exactly how I feel\n  start_ms: 115850\n  end_ms: 117240\n- text: Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  start_ms: 117240\n  end_ms: 119600\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 119600\n  end_ms: 122160\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 122160\n  end_ms: 123910\n- text: I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  start_ms: 123910\n  end_ms: 126370\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 126370\n  end_ms: 128530\n- text: Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  start_ms: 128530\n  end_ms: 130380\n- text: I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  start_ms: 130380\n  end_ms: 132810\n- text: The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  start_ms: 132810\n  end_ms: 134840\n- text: The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  start_ms: 134840\n  end_ms: 137820\n- text: (House Gang what up!)\n  start_ms: 137820\n  end_ms: 138810\n- text: Other groups basic mergers\n  start_ms: 138810\n  end_ms: 140460\n- text: We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  start_ms: 140460\n  end_ms: 142970\n- text: Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  start_ms: 142970\n  end_ms: 145250\n- text: You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  start_ms: 145250\n  end_ms: 148010\n- text: We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  start_ms: 148010\n  end_ms: 150980\n- text: Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  start_ms: 150980\n  end_ms: 153520\n- text: Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  start_ms: 153520\n  end_ms: 155200\n- text: If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  start_ms: 155200\n  end_ms: 158530\n- text: Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  start_ms: 158530\n  end_ms: 160920\n- text: Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  start_ms: 160920\n  end_ms: 163570\n- text: (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  start_ms: 163570\n  end_ms: 165390\n- text: Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  start_ms: 165390\n  end_ms: 167700\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 167700\n  end_ms: 171510\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 171510\n  end_ms: 173420\n- text: Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  start_ms: 173420\n  end_ms: 175920\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 175920\n  end_ms: 178000\n- text: These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  start_ms: 178000\n  end_ms: 180290\n- text: Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  start_ms: 180290\n  end_ms: 183060\n- text: Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  start_ms: 183060\n  end_ms: 185560\n- text: Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  start_ms: 185560\n  end_ms: 188140\n- text: Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  start_ms: 188140\n  end_ms: 190310\n- text: Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  start_ms: 190310\n  end_ms: 192870\n- text: Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  start_ms: 192870\n  end_ms: 195110\n- text: It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  start_ms: 195110\n  end_ms: 197720\n- text: How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 197720\n  end_ms: 200540\n- text: Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 200540\n  end_ms: 202940\n- text: A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  start_ms: 202940\n  end_ms: 205210\n- text: Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  start_ms: 205210\n  end_ms: 207850\n- text: Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  start_ms: 207850\n  end_ms: 209980\n- text: From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  start_ms: 209980\n  end_ms: 212530\n- text: It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  start_ms: 212530\n  end_ms: 215460\n- text: Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  start_ms: 215460\n  end_ms: 218750\n- text: I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  start_ms: 218750\n  end_ms: 220890\n- text: Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  start_ms: 220890\n  end_ms: 222720\n- text: Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  start_ms: 222720\n  end_ms: 225360\n- text: (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n  start_ms: 225360\n  end_ms: 237470\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 237470\nplain: |-\n  This is the pick up line, I got to big up mine\n\n  I'm handlin' you frauds\n  These wounded ass niggas, I rap circles around 'em\n  I'm bandages and gauze\n  Crooked trap 'round clowns, this rap circus surrounds 'em\n  But I'm havin' a menage\n  Fuckin' with the rap game, and the trap game\n  I'm managin' my odds\n  Man these rappers out here reachin', your arms are too short\n  Take the boxing gloves off, hand 'em to the gods\n  Slaughterhouse, we the military in this bitch\n  Fuck every Tom, Dick and Harry in this bitch, yeah\n  Fuck your apology, I'ma be on astrology shit\n  March into war like Aries in this bitch, yeah\n  You call it light work, nigga this is my life's work\n  I turn around and beat up a beat like I'm writin' Ike's verse\n  Toe taggin' this mothafucka, I don't think Joe Jackson\n  And Buster Douglas could ever do a mic worse\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  If you are what you eat, how come I'm not pussy?\n  That was part uno, this is part two though\n\n  This the difference between y'all niggas and real rap\n  The competition fell back, niggas ask\n  How much did I use to drink\n  I tell 'em off the top of my head about a gallon\n  Kinda like Pharrell's hat\n  But all jokes aside like I ordered fries\n  I'm liable to store somebody's corpse in the closet, I'm organized\n  Before police was interrogatin', I was livin' the story of my life\n  And Morgan Freeman was narratin'\n  (Say it again) I'm 5'9\", not an inch taller\n  'Fore all of the jewelry, I've been baller\n  Before niggas was hypebeasts, my niggas was bike thiefs\n  You let it out your sight and they take it to sight see\n  Same shit, another nigga gotta die today\n  My bitch gone (why) we ain't ever goin' out on dates\n  (Why) we ain't vacayin' out of state\n  Whinin' all the time, all she do was holler\n  We ain't like a Pagan holiday\n  Rappers will, be actin' ill\n  Knowing they daffodils\n  I take the word \"lyrical\" and flip it backwards\n  And that says \"laciryl\"\n  And that's exactly how I feel\n  Shout out to Guru, I got the mass appeal\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'll give up drinkin' when she give her emotions up\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  Oh you don't, don't let me learn yah\n  I body the beat and watch it skip, call it m-murda\n  The nerve of anyone who ain't heard of\n  The gang that don't tweet simultaneous for the sake of the sermon\n  (House Gang what up!)\n  Other groups basic mergers\n  We extort 'em from a distance, takin' it further\n  Drama could be all yours, why you want a war for?\n  You can't go at uno, mothafucka, that's a draw 4\n  We started out as just a feature on a Joe joint\n  Fuck around now, you on the bleachers soon as Joe point\n  Brothers for real, I can honestly say\n  If you come at me, they'll be 3 dots on you while I'm still typin'\n  Meet fire, street fighters when this pen's writin'\n  Shady, you go through us to get to Em, Bison\n  (Come on, crook, you wildin' again)\n  Nah Joe, these niggas stupid, boy we do this shit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Too many frogs go \"ribbet\" but never leave lilies\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n\n  These niggas might play cray, try slay me\n  Off my mic vacay, call it right, it's mayday\n  Right footed melee, strapped a light AK\n  Every bar get in the face like Ice JJ\n  Do it for Em, my squad do it for bundles\n  Could've been copped the Phantom, bought the Benz bein' humble\n  Still, the nickel plate is known to get 'em situated\n  It's return fire, even when Joey initiate it\n  How I feel about these rap niggas? Fuck 'em all\n  Drake rhyme about these bitches, I just fuck 'em all\n  A hundred guns, jeans big enough to tuck 'em all\n  Banana clips, fully automatic, you can't duck 'em all\n  Cause when it's gats involved, bodies'll fall\n  From the sky, could really be rainin' cats and dogs\n  It's Joey, nicer than any rapper you rockin' to\n  Call a spade a spade, nigga try to follow suit\n  I'm tryna murder the microphone\n  Bring it back to life, I murder that microphone\n  Too many big dogs, not enough barkin' yet\n  (That was part uno, this is part two though)\n"}]