[{"id":6836744,"name":"Sound Off","trackName":"Sound Off","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse","duration":352.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\nWe fight fire with flamethrowers, why would you try us?\nWe an outfit, equivalent to voltron's\nThat boy crooked I is equivalent to four arms\nJoell Ortiz is the body\nThe cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\nJoe Budden is the pair of legs\nHe runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\nI am the general, bow now\nFuck saluting!\nI don't really think y'all niggas get it\nRun up on your with a army it is\nOn until it's done, finished\nYou got a problem with any one of my slaughters\nThen y'all niggas can come with it\nMe and joey, we a perfect fit\nHe like starting shit, I like ending shit\nI don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit\nIt ain't intricate\nI'm gon' shoot your stupid ass\nYou too could laugh, you gon' die smiling\nTry wilding, I get hostile then I'm violent\nI don't make threats nigga I promise\nMy style is stalin mixed with sick lyrics\nIf you hear it, it'll lift your spirit\nTurn your appearance into a disappearance\nDi, di, di, di, di, di, di, di, di, ding\nI fuck with nothing but gangstas\nNothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI fuck with nothing but my clique\nNothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI fuck with nothing but gangstas\nNothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI put my money on my clique, hot shit\nComing out the barrel of my fifth\nI got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\nGuess that's why I'm the torso\nI pour sweat when I perform shows\nWhat I record goes down as the best, but the vets won't let that torch go\nY'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\nAnd flamethrowers, and I got one on my back right now\nRemain focused, that's what I tell myself now and then\nDon't want to go back to that block like when variation defends\nUh-oh, my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\nEvery human out of my sight before I count to ten\nOne, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight\nI'm hungry like I never ate\nSet a table up with knives, forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\nAll these sweet dummies looking me like a pepper steak\nMeans we never separate, we ain't married\nJab it every time I touch a pen, I sort of set a date\nI'll devastate your career, look I'm a demonstrate\nLet me get a good breath take before I regulate\n(takes breath) okay, bye bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\nCause line for line\nWhat I design is mine and mine\nMy joint's divine, meaning right behind\nAnd thank god it shines all the light in mine\nSo my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\nCome here girl, toma, toma, take that, take that\nI fuck with nothing but gangstas\nNothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI fuck with nothing but my clique\nNothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI fuck with nothing but gangstas\nNothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI put my money on my clique, hot shit\nComing out the barrel of my fifth\nYou rappers chasing popularity by any means, doing silly things\nBuying too many size twenty skinny jeans\nThe west treat me like I'm really king\nI'm pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing niggas seen\nYou rappers dressing like you fittin to sing Billie Jean\nI got to intervene, fuck you I'm a intervene\nYou loud talking, wouldn't kill a thing\nMatter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\nFuck your Hollywood limousine and rented bling\nI give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\nI'll put your pad on your property, fag\nProperly rob you and hop in the jag\nIf you stopping the profit, the glock will be popping your body\nYou'll rock a colostomy bag\nShot in the abs, moms will be sad\nPops will be mad, doctor be glad\nPossibly be stopping the plasma dropping\nClock running out and the outcome bad\nAny one of you niggas fuck with my team\nPretty ass thing with the infrared beam\nSleep on that and get killed while you dream\nFuck a rap group slaughterhouse a machine\nSlaughterhouse, a regime\nI'm gooned up if you know what I mean\nEverybody want to be down with the king\nNo, no, no, no, no fly zone.\nI fuck with nothing but gangstas\nNothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI fuck with nothing but my clique\nNothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI fuck with nothing but gangstas\nNothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI put my money on my clique, hot shit\nComing out the barrel of my fifth\nMy one goal's to astonish\nTell the President, VP, (you could) notify the congress\nThey say I'm arrogant, pompous, but I'm honest\nI tell them keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\nThey still making threats on your highness\nBut I tell them where I be, they just ignore the compass\nI think all your mans' play dough, I don't buy that movie, fandango\nFans they know that what you a soldier to a general\nBaby steel, got it in a bag, airtight navy seal\nTell them little dudes I ain't mad at y'all\nCollege kids like Asher Roth\nY'all just trying to put food on the table\nWhile I'm a just come and try to snatch it off\nIf it ain't for me\nMost young dudes would be angrily\nBut anxiously awaiting bankruptcy\nWonder what makes little motherfuckers think they the same as me\nI'm synchronized you and your men should die\nLearn certain shit you ain't meant to try\nGot the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\nBest bet is to attempt to fly\nShit's a game, you down, you in for life\nFuck y'all, I ain't got to generalize\nY'all enabled to write what the pen describes\nSo when he asked what I meant and why, I tell him\nI fuck with nothing but gangstas\nNothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI fuck with nothing but my clique\nNothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI fuck with nothing but gangstas\nNothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\nI put my money on my clique, hot shit\nComing out the barrel of my fifth","syncedLyrics":"[00:13.37] You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n[00:15.77] We fight fire with flamethrowers, why would you try us?\n[00:19.08] We an outfit, equivalent to voltron's\n[00:21.65] That boy crooked I is equivalent to four arms\n[00:25.02] Joell Ortiz is the body\n[00:27.41] The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n[00:31.08] Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n[00:34.01] He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n[00:37.66] I am the general, bow now\n[00:39.84] Fuck saluting!\n[00:41.15] I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n[00:42.55] Run up on your with a army it is\n[00:43.88] On until it's done, finished\n[00:45.55] You got a problem with any one of my slaughters\n[00:47.24] Then y'all niggas can come with it\n[00:48.64] Me and joey, we a perfect fit\n[00:50.03] He like starting shit, I like ending shit\n[00:51.70] I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit\n[00:53.11] It ain't intricate\n[00:54.19] I'm gon' shoot your stupid ass\n[00:55.01] You too could laugh, you gon' die smiling\n[00:56.20] Try wilding, I get hostile then I'm violent\n[00:59.07] I don't make threats nigga I promise\n[01:00.81] My style is stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n[01:02.38] If you hear it, it'll lift your spirit\n[01:03.60] Turn your appearance into a disappearance\n[01:05.19] Di, di, di, di, di, di, di, di, di, ding\n[01:06.90] I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n[01:08.82] Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[01:11.14] I fuck with nothing but my clique\n[01:15.11] Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[01:18.95] I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n[01:21.13] Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[01:26.16] I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n[01:27.91] Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n[01:30.11] I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n[01:35.55] Guess that's why I'm the torso\n[01:37.66] I pour sweat when I perform shows\n[01:40.03] What I record goes down as the best, but the vets won't let that torch go\n[01:43.46] Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n[01:46.27] And flamethrowers, and I got one on my back right now\n[01:49.23] Remain focused, that's what I tell myself now and then\n[01:51.92] Don't want to go back to that block like when variation defends\n[01:55.31] Uh-oh, my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n[01:58.55] Every human out of my sight before I count to ten\n[02:01.55] One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight\n[02:03.05] I'm hungry like I never ate\n[02:04.14] Set a table up with knives, forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n[02:06.21] All these sweet dummies looking me like a pepper steak\n[02:07.66] Means we never separate, we ain't married\n[02:09.38] Jab it every time I touch a pen, I sort of set a date\n[02:10.72] I'll devastate your career, look I'm a demonstrate\n[02:12.29] Let me get a good breath take before I regulate\n[02:13.79] (takes breath) okay, bye bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n[02:16.93] Cause line for line\n[02:18.10] What I design is mine and mine\n[02:18.98] My joint's divine, meaning right behind\n[02:20.45] And thank god it shines all the light in mine\n[02:21.79] So my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n[02:23.45] Come here girl, toma, toma, take that, take that\n[02:26.08] I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n[02:28.17] Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[02:31.51] I fuck with nothing but my clique\n[02:33.80] Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[02:37.89] I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n[02:40.04] Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[02:44.55] I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n[02:46.90] Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n[02:49.30] You rappers chasing popularity by any means, doing silly things\n[02:53.62] Buying too many size twenty skinny jeans\n[02:57.08] The west treat me like I'm really king\n[02:59.07] I'm pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing niggas seen\n[03:02.48] You rappers dressing like you fittin to sing Billie Jean\n[03:05.42] I got to intervene, fuck you I'm a intervene\n[03:08.56] You loud talking, wouldn't kill a thing\n[03:10.78] Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n[03:14.86] Fuck your Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n[03:17.90] I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n[03:20.80] I'll put your pad on your property, fag\n[03:21.90] Properly rob you and hop in the jag\n[03:23.41] If you stopping the profit, the glock will be popping your body\n[03:25.61] You'll rock a colostomy bag\n[03:26.65] Shot in the abs, moms will be sad\n[03:28.19] Pops will be mad, doctor be glad\n[03:29.10] Possibly be stopping the plasma dropping\n[03:31.11] Clock running out and the outcome bad\n[03:32.49] Any one of you niggas fuck with my team\n[03:34.09] Pretty ass thing with the infrared beam\n[03:35.47] Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n[03:37.05] Fuck a rap group slaughterhouse a machine\n[03:38.57] Slaughterhouse, a regime\n[03:40.33] I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n[03:41.74] Everybody want to be down with the king\n[03:43.29] No, no, no, no, no fly zone.\n[03:45.10] I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n[03:47.32] Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[03:49.48] I fuck with nothing but my clique\n[03:53.52] Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[03:55.54] I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n[03:59.42] Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[04:02.97] I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n[04:06.42] Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n[04:08.28] My one goal's to astonish\n[04:12.18] Tell the President, VP, (you could) notify the congress\n[04:15.37] They say I'm arrogant, pompous, but I'm honest\n[04:18.25] I tell them keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n[04:20.33] They still making threats on your highness\n[04:24.53] But I tell them where I be, they just ignore the compass\n[04:28.99] I think all your mans' play dough, I don't buy that movie, fandango\n[04:32.47] Fans they know that what you a soldier to a general\n[04:36.11] Baby steel, got it in a bag, airtight navy seal\n[04:39.69] Tell them little dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n[04:41.44] College kids like Asher Roth\n[04:42.53] Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n[04:44.08] While I'm a just come and try to snatch it off\n[04:45.53] If it ain't for me\n[04:46.37] Most young dudes would be angrily\n[04:47.64] But anxiously awaiting bankruptcy\n[04:49.29] Wonder what makes little motherfuckers think they the same as me\n[04:51.36] I'm synchronized you and your men should die\n[04:53.04] Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n[04:54.44] Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n[04:55.98] Best bet is to attempt to fly\n[04:57.34] Shit's a game, you down, you in for life\n[04:59.13] Fuck y'all, I ain't got to generalize\n[05:00.64] Y'all enabled to write what the pen describes\n[05:02.24] So when he asked what I meant and why, I tell him\n[05:03.73] I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n[05:06.01] Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[05:08.00] I fuck with nothing but my clique\n[05:12.02] Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[05:15.95] I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n[05:18.21] Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n[05:22.05] I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n[05:25.38] Coming out the barrel of my fifth","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sound Off\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse\n  duration_ms: 352000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  start_ms: 13370\n  end_ms: 15770\n- text: We fight fire with flamethrowers, why would you try us?\n  start_ms: 15770\n  end_ms: 19080\n- text: We an outfit, equivalent to voltron's\n  start_ms: 19080\n  end_ms: 21650\n- text: That boy crooked I is equivalent to four arms\n  start_ms: 21650\n  end_ms: 25020\n- text: Joell Ortiz is the body\n  start_ms: 25020\n  end_ms: 27410\n- text: The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  start_ms: 27410\n  end_ms: 31080\n- text: Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  start_ms: 31080\n  end_ms: 34010\n- text: He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  start_ms: 34010\n  end_ms: 37660\n- text: I am the general, bow now\n  start_ms: 37660\n  end_ms: 39840\n- text: Fuck saluting!\n  start_ms: 39840\n  end_ms: 41150\n- text: I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  start_ms: 41150\n  end_ms: 42550\n- text: Run up on your with a army it is\n  start_ms: 42550\n  end_ms: 43880\n- text: On until it's done, finished\n  start_ms: 43880\n  end_ms: 45550\n- text: You got a problem with any one of my slaughters\n  start_ms: 45550\n  end_ms: 47240\n- text: Then y'all niggas can come with it\n  start_ms: 47240\n  end_ms: 48640\n- text: Me and joey, we a perfect fit\n  start_ms: 48640\n  end_ms: 50030\n- text: He like starting shit, I like ending shit\n  start_ms: 50030\n  end_ms: 51700\n- text: I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit\n  start_ms: 51700\n  end_ms: 53110\n- text: It ain't intricate\n  start_ms: 53110\n  end_ms: 54190\n- text: I'm gon' shoot your stupid ass\n  start_ms: 54190\n  end_ms: 55010\n- text: You too could laugh, you gon' die smiling\n  start_ms: 55010\n  end_ms: 56200\n- text: Try wilding, I get hostile then I'm violent\n  start_ms: 56200\n  end_ms: 59070\n- text: I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  start_ms: 59070\n  end_ms: 60810\n- text: My style is stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  start_ms: 60810\n  end_ms: 62380\n- text: If you hear it, it'll lift your spirit\n  start_ms: 62380\n  end_ms: 63600\n- text: Turn your appearance into a disappearance\n  start_ms: 63600\n  end_ms: 65190\n- text: Di, di, di, di, di, di, di, di, di, ding\n  start_ms: 65190\n  end_ms: 66900\n- text: I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  start_ms: 66900\n  end_ms: 68820\n- text: Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 68820\n  end_ms: 71140\n- text: I fuck with nothing but my clique\n  start_ms: 71140\n  end_ms: 75110\n- text: Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 75110\n  end_ms: 78950\n- text: I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  start_ms: 78950\n  end_ms: 81130\n- text: Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 81130\n  end_ms: 86160\n- text: I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n  start_ms: 86160\n  end_ms: 87910\n- text: Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 87910\n  end_ms: 90110\n- text: I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  start_ms: 90110\n  end_ms: 95550\n- text: Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  start_ms: 95550\n  end_ms: 97660\n- text: I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  start_ms: 97660\n  end_ms: 100030\n- text: What I record goes down as the best, but the vets won't let that torch go\n  start_ms: 100030\n  end_ms: 103460\n- text: Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  start_ms: 103460\n  end_ms: 106270\n- text: And flamethrowers, and I got one on my back right now\n  start_ms: 106270\n  end_ms: 109230\n- text: Remain focused, that's what I tell myself now and then\n  start_ms: 109230\n  end_ms: 111920\n- text: Don't want to go back to that block like when variation defends\n  start_ms: 111920\n  end_ms: 115310\n- text: Uh-oh, my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  start_ms: 115310\n  end_ms: 118550\n- text: Every human out of my sight before I count to ten\n  start_ms: 118550\n  end_ms: 121550\n- text: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight\n  start_ms: 121550\n  end_ms: 123050\n- text: I'm hungry like I never ate\n  start_ms: 123050\n  end_ms: 124140\n- text: Set a table up with knives, forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  start_ms: 124140\n  end_ms: 126210\n- text: All these sweet dummies looking me like a pepper steak\n  start_ms: 126210\n  end_ms: 127660\n- text: Means we never separate, we ain't married\n  start_ms: 127660\n  end_ms: 129380\n- text: Jab it every time I touch a pen, I sort of set a date\n  start_ms: 129380\n  end_ms: 130720\n- text: I'll devastate your career, look I'm a demonstrate\n  start_ms: 130720\n  end_ms: 132290\n- text: Let me get a good breath take before I regulate\n  start_ms: 132290\n  end_ms: 133790\n- text: (takes breath) okay, bye bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n  start_ms: 133790\n  end_ms: 136930\n- text: Cause line for line\n  start_ms: 136930\n  end_ms: 138100\n- text: What I design is mine and mine\n  start_ms: 138100\n  end_ms: 138980\n- text: My joint's divine, meaning right behind\n  start_ms: 138980\n  end_ms: 140450\n- text: And thank god it shines all the light in mine\n  start_ms: 140450\n  end_ms: 141790\n- text: So my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  start_ms: 141790\n  end_ms: 143450\n- text: Come here girl, toma, toma, take that, take that\n  start_ms: 143450\n  end_ms: 146080\n- text: I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  start_ms: 146080\n  end_ms: 148170\n- text: Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 148170\n  end_ms: 151510\n- text: I fuck with nothing but my clique\n  start_ms: 151510\n  end_ms: 153800\n- text: Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 153800\n  end_ms: 157890\n- text: I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  start_ms: 157890\n  end_ms: 160040\n- text: Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 160040\n  end_ms: 164550\n- text: I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n  start_ms: 164550\n  end_ms: 166900\n- text: Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 166900\n  end_ms: 169300\n- text: You rappers chasing popularity by any means, doing silly things\n  start_ms: 169300\n  end_ms: 173620\n- text: Buying too many size twenty skinny jeans\n  start_ms: 173620\n  end_ms: 177080\n- text: The west treat me like I'm really king\n  start_ms: 177080\n  end_ms: 179070\n- text: I'm pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing niggas seen\n  start_ms: 179070\n  end_ms: 182480\n- text: You rappers dressing like you fittin to sing Billie Jean\n  start_ms: 182480\n  end_ms: 185420\n- text: I got to intervene, fuck you I'm a intervene\n  start_ms: 185420\n  end_ms: 188560\n- text: You loud talking, wouldn't kill a thing\n  start_ms: 188560\n  end_ms: 190780\n- text: Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  start_ms: 190780\n  end_ms: 194860\n- text: Fuck your Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  start_ms: 194860\n  end_ms: 197900\n- text: I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  start_ms: 197900\n  end_ms: 200800\n- text: I'll put your pad on your property, fag\n  start_ms: 200800\n  end_ms: 201900\n- text: Properly rob you and hop in the jag\n  start_ms: 201900\n  end_ms: 203410\n- text: If you stopping the profit, the glock will be popping your body\n  start_ms: 203410\n  end_ms: 205610\n- text: You'll rock a colostomy bag\n  start_ms: 205610\n  end_ms: 206650\n- text: Shot in the abs, moms will be sad\n  start_ms: 206650\n  end_ms: 208190\n- text: Pops will be mad, doctor be glad\n  start_ms: 208190\n  end_ms: 209100\n- text: Possibly be stopping the plasma dropping\n  start_ms: 209100\n  end_ms: 211110\n- text: Clock running out and the outcome bad\n  start_ms: 211110\n  end_ms: 212490\n- text: Any one of you niggas fuck with my team\n  start_ms: 212490\n  end_ms: 214090\n- text: Pretty ass thing with the infrared beam\n  start_ms: 214090\n  end_ms: 215470\n- text: Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  start_ms: 215470\n  end_ms: 217050\n- text: Fuck a rap group slaughterhouse a machine\n  start_ms: 217050\n  end_ms: 218570\n- text: Slaughterhouse, a regime\n  start_ms: 218570\n  end_ms: 220330\n- text: I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  start_ms: 220330\n  end_ms: 221740\n- text: Everybody want to be down with the king\n  start_ms: 221740\n  end_ms: 223290\n- text: No, no, no, no, no fly zone.\n  start_ms: 223290\n  end_ms: 225100\n- text: I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  start_ms: 225100\n  end_ms: 227320\n- text: Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 227320\n  end_ms: 229480\n- text: I fuck with nothing but my clique\n  start_ms: 229480\n  end_ms: 233520\n- text: Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 233520\n  end_ms: 235540\n- text: I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  start_ms: 235540\n  end_ms: 239420\n- text: Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 239420\n  end_ms: 242970\n- text: I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n  start_ms: 242970\n  end_ms: 246420\n- text: Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 246420\n  end_ms: 248280\n- text: My one goal's to astonish\n  start_ms: 248280\n  end_ms: 252180\n- text: Tell the President, VP, (you could) notify the congress\n  start_ms: 252180\n  end_ms: 255370\n- text: They say I'm arrogant, pompous, but I'm honest\n  start_ms: 255370\n  end_ms: 258250\n- text: I tell them keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  start_ms: 258250\n  end_ms: 260330\n- text: They still making threats on your highness\n  start_ms: 260330\n  end_ms: 264530\n- text: But I tell them where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  start_ms: 264530\n  end_ms: 268990\n- text: I think all your mans' play dough, I don't buy that movie, fandango\n  start_ms: 268990\n  end_ms: 272470\n- text: Fans they know that what you a soldier to a general\n  start_ms: 272470\n  end_ms: 276110\n- text: Baby steel, got it in a bag, airtight navy seal\n  start_ms: 276110\n  end_ms: 279690\n- text: Tell them little dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  start_ms: 279690\n  end_ms: 281440\n- text: College kids like Asher Roth\n  start_ms: 281440\n  end_ms: 282530\n- text: Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  start_ms: 282530\n  end_ms: 284080\n- text: While I'm a just come and try to snatch it off\n  start_ms: 284080\n  end_ms: 285530\n- text: If it ain't for me\n  start_ms: 285530\n  end_ms: 286370\n- text: Most young dudes would be angrily\n  start_ms: 286370\n  end_ms: 287640\n- text: But anxiously awaiting bankruptcy\n  start_ms: 287640\n  end_ms: 289290\n- text: Wonder what makes little motherfuckers think they the same as me\n  start_ms: 289290\n  end_ms: 291360\n- text: I'm synchronized you and your men should die\n  start_ms: 291360\n  end_ms: 293040\n- text: Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  start_ms: 293040\n  end_ms: 294440\n- text: Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  start_ms: 294440\n  end_ms: 295980\n- text: Best bet is to attempt to fly\n  start_ms: 295980\n  end_ms: 297340\n- text: Shit's a game, you down, you in for life\n  start_ms: 297340\n  end_ms: 299130\n- text: Fuck y'all, I ain't got to generalize\n  start_ms: 299130\n  end_ms: 300640\n- text: Y'all enabled to write what the pen describes\n  start_ms: 300640\n  end_ms: 302240\n- text: So when he asked what I meant and why, I tell him\n  start_ms: 302240\n  end_ms: 303730\n- text: I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  start_ms: 303730\n  end_ms: 306010\n- text: Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 306010\n  end_ms: 308000\n- text: I fuck with nothing but my clique\n  start_ms: 308000\n  end_ms: 312020\n- text: Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 312020\n  end_ms: 315950\n- text: I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  start_ms: 315950\n  end_ms: 318210\n- text: Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  start_ms: 318210\n  end_ms: 322050\n- text: I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n  start_ms: 322050\n  end_ms: 325380\n- text: Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 325380\nplain: |-\n  You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  We fight fire with flamethrowers, why would you try us?\n  We an outfit, equivalent to voltron's\n  That boy crooked I is equivalent to four arms\n  Joell Ortiz is the body\n  The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  I am the general, bow now\n  Fuck saluting!\n  I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  Run up on your with a army it is\n  On until it's done, finished\n  You got a problem with any one of my slaughters\n  Then y'all niggas can come with it\n  Me and joey, we a perfect fit\n  He like starting shit, I like ending shit\n  I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit\n  It ain't intricate\n  I'm gon' shoot your stupid ass\n  You too could laugh, you gon' die smiling\n  Try wilding, I get hostile then I'm violent\n  I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  My style is stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  If you hear it, it'll lift your spirit\n  Turn your appearance into a disappearance\n  Di, di, di, di, di, di, di, di, di, ding\n  I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I fuck with nothing but my clique\n  Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n  Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n  I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  What I record goes down as the best, but the vets won't let that torch go\n  Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  And flamethrowers, and I got one on my back right now\n  Remain focused, that's what I tell myself now and then\n  Don't want to go back to that block like when variation defends\n  Uh-oh, my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  Every human out of my sight before I count to ten\n  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight\n  I'm hungry like I never ate\n  Set a table up with knives, forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  All these sweet dummies looking me like a pepper steak\n  Means we never separate, we ain't married\n  Jab it every time I touch a pen, I sort of set a date\n  I'll devastate your career, look I'm a demonstrate\n  Let me get a good breath take before I regulate\n  (takes breath) okay, bye bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n  Cause line for line\n  What I design is mine and mine\n  My joint's divine, meaning right behind\n  And thank god it shines all the light in mine\n  So my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  Come here girl, toma, toma, take that, take that\n  I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I fuck with nothing but my clique\n  Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n  Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n  You rappers chasing popularity by any means, doing silly things\n  Buying too many size twenty skinny jeans\n  The west treat me like I'm really king\n  I'm pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing niggas seen\n  You rappers dressing like you fittin to sing Billie Jean\n  I got to intervene, fuck you I'm a intervene\n  You loud talking, wouldn't kill a thing\n  Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  Fuck your Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  I'll put your pad on your property, fag\n  Properly rob you and hop in the jag\n  If you stopping the profit, the glock will be popping your body\n  You'll rock a colostomy bag\n  Shot in the abs, moms will be sad\n  Pops will be mad, doctor be glad\n  Possibly be stopping the plasma dropping\n  Clock running out and the outcome bad\n  Any one of you niggas fuck with my team\n  Pretty ass thing with the infrared beam\n  Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  Fuck a rap group slaughterhouse a machine\n  Slaughterhouse, a regime\n  I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  Everybody want to be down with the king\n  No, no, no, no, no fly zone.\n  I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I fuck with nothing but my clique\n  Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n  Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n  My one goal's to astonish\n  Tell the President, VP, (you could) notify the congress\n  They say I'm arrogant, pompous, but I'm honest\n  I tell them keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  They still making threats on your highness\n  But I tell them where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  I think all your mans' play dough, I don't buy that movie, fandango\n  Fans they know that what you a soldier to a general\n  Baby steel, got it in a bag, airtight navy seal\n  Tell them little dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  College kids like Asher Roth\n  Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  While I'm a just come and try to snatch it off\n  If it ain't for me\n  Most young dudes would be angrily\n  But anxiously awaiting bankruptcy\n  Wonder what makes little motherfuckers think they the same as me\n  I'm synchronized you and your men should die\n  Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  Best bet is to attempt to fly\n  Shit's a game, you down, you in for life\n  Fuck y'all, I ain't got to generalize\n  Y'all enabled to write what the pen describes\n  So when he asked what I meant and why, I tell him\n  I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I fuck with nothing but my clique\n  Nothing but hot shit, follow me, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I fuck with nothing but gangstas\n  Nothing but hustla niggas, sound off, sound off, hut!\n  I put my money on my clique, hot shit\n  Coming out the barrel of my fifth\n"},{"id":21849821,"name":"Sound Off","trackName":"Sound Off","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse","duration":423.240701,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\nWe fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\nWe a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\nThat boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\nJoell Ortiz is the body\nThe cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\nJoe Budden is the pair of legs\nHe runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\nI am the general, bow now\nFuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\nRun up on you with an army it is\nOn 'til it's done, finished\nYou got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\nThen y'all niggas can come wit it\nMe and Joey we a perfect fit\nHe likes startin shit, I like endin shit\nI don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\nI'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\nYou too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\nTry whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\nI don't make threats nigga I promise\nMy style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\nIf you hear it it'll lift your spirit\nTurn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nI got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\nGuess that's why I'm the torso\nI pour sweat when I perform shows\nWhat I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\nY'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\nAnd flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\nRemain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\nDon't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\nUh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\nEvery human out of my sight, before I count to ten\nOne two three four five six seven eight\nI'm hungry like I never ate\nSet a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\nAll these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\nMe and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\nYeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\nI'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\nLet me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\nCause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\nAnd I'm right behind the big guy that shines\nAll the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\nC'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nYou rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\nBuyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\nThe West treat me like I'm really king\nI'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\nYou rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\nI gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\nYou loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\nMatter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\nFuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\nI give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\nI'll put your pad on your property fag\nProperly rob you and hop in the Jag\nIf you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\nYour body'll rock a colostomy bag\nShot in the abs, moms'll be sad\nPops'll be mad, doctor be glad\nPossibly stoppin a plasma droppin\nClock runnin out and the outcome bad\nAny one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\nPretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\nSleep on that and get killed while you dream\nFuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\nSlaughterhouse a regime\nI'm gooned up if you know what I mean\nEverybody wanna be down with the king\nNo-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nMy one goal's to astonish\nTell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\nThey say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\nI tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\nThey still makin threats on your highness\nBut I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\nI think all your mans' Play-Doh\nI don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\nFans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\nGot it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\nTell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\nCollege kids like Asher Roth\nY'all just trying to put food on the table\nAnd I'mma just come and try snatch it off\nIf it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\nBut anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\nWonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\nI'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\nLearn certain shit you ain't meant to try\nGot the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\nBest bet's to attempt to fly\nShit's a gang, you down you in for life\nFuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\nY'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\nSo when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth","syncedLyrics":"[00:13.07] You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n[00:15.45] We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n[00:18.68] We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n[00:21.04] That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n[00:24.52] Joell Ortiz is the body\n[00:27.22] The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n[00:30.68] Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n[00:33.97] He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n[00:36.95] I am the general, bow now\n[00:39.36] Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n[00:42.45] Run up on you with an army it is\n[00:43.64] On 'til it's done, finished\n[00:45.20] You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n[00:47.16] Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n[00:48.11] Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n[00:49.77] He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n[00:51.43] I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n[00:53.48] I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n[00:55.11] You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n[00:56.84] Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n[00:58.92] I don't make threats nigga I promise\n[01:00.41] My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n[01:01.86] If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n[01:03.36] Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n[01:06.35] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[01:08.81] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:12.58] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[01:15.02] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:18.79] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[01:21.33] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:24.82] I put my, money on my clique\n[01:26.97] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[01:31.49] I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n[01:35.00] Guess that's why I'm the torso\n[01:37.41] I pour sweat when I perform shows\n[01:38.82] What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n[01:43.02] Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n[01:45.80] And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n[01:48.79] Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n[01:51.96] Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n[01:54.86] Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n[01:58.24] Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n[02:01.11] One two three four five six seven eight\n[02:02.97] I'm hungry like I never ate\n[02:03.71] Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n[02:05.62] All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n[02:07.44] Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n[02:09.25] Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n[02:10.41] I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n[02:11.85] Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n[02:13.58] {*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n[02:16.13] Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n[02:19.47] And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n[02:21.16] All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n[02:23.69] C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n[02:25.72] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[02:28.26] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:31.77] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[02:33.95] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:37.46] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[02:40.50] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:43.87] I put my, money on my clique\n[02:46.13] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[02:49.40] You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n[02:53.47] Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n[02:56.15] The West treat me like I'm really king\n[02:58.32] I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n[03:02.30] You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n[03:05.25] I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n[03:08.11] You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n[03:10.27] Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n[03:14.41] Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n[03:17.66] I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n[03:20.48] I'll put your pad on your property fag\n[03:21.69] Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n[03:23.37] If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n[03:24.80] Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n[03:26.13] Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n[03:27.81] Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n[03:29.41] Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n[03:31.28] Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n[03:32.40] Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n[03:33.65] Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n[03:35.35] Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n[03:36.95] Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n[03:38.65] Slaughterhouse a regime\n[03:40.58] I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n[03:41.52] Everybody wanna be down with the king\n[03:43.12] No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n[03:44.53] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[03:47.08] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[03:50.63] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[03:53.10] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[03:56.82] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[04:00.13] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[04:03.18] I put my, money on my clique\n[04:05.17] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[04:09.25] My one goal's to astonish\n[04:11.69] Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n[04:14.53] They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n[04:17.87] I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n[04:21.16] They still makin threats on your highness\n[04:24.05] But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n[04:27.64] I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n[04:30.25] I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n[04:32.04] Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n[04:36.60] Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n[04:39.36] Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n[04:40.97] College kids like Asher Roth\n[04:42.21] Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n[04:43.88] And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n[04:45.05] If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n[04:47.51] But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n[04:49.23] Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n[04:51.21] I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n[04:52.87] Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n[04:54.59] Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n[04:55.79] Best bet's to attempt to fly\n[04:56.90] Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n[04:59.12] Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n[05:00.23] Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n[05:02.49] So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n[05:03.76] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[05:07.14] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:09.81] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[05:12.19] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:15.62] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[05:18.68] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:21.75] I put my, money on my clique\n[05:24.62] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[05:27.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sound Off\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse\n  duration_ms: 423241\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  start_ms: 13070\n  end_ms: 15450\n- text: We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n  start_ms: 15450\n  end_ms: 18680\n- text: We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n  start_ms: 18680\n  end_ms: 21040\n- text: That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n  start_ms: 21040\n  end_ms: 24520\n- text: Joell Ortiz is the body\n  start_ms: 24520\n  end_ms: 27220\n- text: The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  start_ms: 27220\n  end_ms: 30680\n- text: Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  start_ms: 30680\n  end_ms: 33970\n- text: He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  start_ms: 33970\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: I am the general, bow now\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 39360\n- text: Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  start_ms: 39360\n  end_ms: 42450\n- text: Run up on you with an army it is\n  start_ms: 42450\n  end_ms: 43640\n- text: On 'til it's done, finished\n  start_ms: 43640\n  end_ms: 45200\n- text: You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n  start_ms: 45200\n  end_ms: 47160\n- text: Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n  start_ms: 47160\n  end_ms: 48110\n- text: Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n  start_ms: 48110\n  end_ms: 49770\n- text: He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n  start_ms: 49770\n  end_ms: 51430\n- text: I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n  start_ms: 51430\n  end_ms: 53480\n- text: I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n  start_ms: 53480\n  end_ms: 55110\n- text: You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n  start_ms: 55110\n  end_ms: 56840\n- text: Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n  start_ms: 56840\n  end_ms: 58920\n- text: I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  start_ms: 58920\n  end_ms: 60410\n- text: My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  start_ms: 60410\n  end_ms: 61860\n- text: If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n  start_ms: 61860\n  end_ms: 63360\n- text: Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n  start_ms: 63360\n  end_ms: 66350\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 66350\n  end_ms: 68810\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 68810\n  end_ms: 72580\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 72580\n  end_ms: 75020\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 75020\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81330\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 81330\n  end_ms: 84820\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 84820\n  end_ms: 86970\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 86970\n  end_ms: 91490\n- text: I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  start_ms: 91490\n  end_ms: 95000\n- text: Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  start_ms: 95000\n  end_ms: 97410\n- text: I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  start_ms: 97410\n  end_ms: 98820\n- text: What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n  start_ms: 98820\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105800\n- text: And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n  start_ms: 105800\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 111960\n- text: Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n  start_ms: 111960\n  end_ms: 114860\n- text: Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  start_ms: 114860\n  end_ms: 118240\n- text: Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n  start_ms: 118240\n  end_ms: 121110\n- text: One two three four five six seven eight\n  start_ms: 121110\n  end_ms: 122970\n- text: I'm hungry like I never ate\n  start_ms: 122970\n  end_ms: 123710\n- text: Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  start_ms: 123710\n  end_ms: 125620\n- text: All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n  start_ms: 125620\n  end_ms: 127440\n- text: Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n  start_ms: 127440\n  end_ms: 129250\n- text: Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n  start_ms: 129250\n  end_ms: 130410\n- text: I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n  start_ms: 130410\n  end_ms: 131850\n- text: Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n  start_ms: 131850\n  end_ms: 133580\n- text: '{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don''t try to rhyme'\n  start_ms: 133580\n  end_ms: 136130\n- text: Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n  start_ms: 136130\n  end_ms: 139470\n- text: And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n  start_ms: 139470\n  end_ms: 141160\n- text: All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  start_ms: 141160\n  end_ms: 143690\n- text: C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n  start_ms: 143690\n  end_ms: 145720\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 145720\n  end_ms: 148260\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 148260\n  end_ms: 151770\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 151770\n  end_ms: 153950\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 153950\n  end_ms: 157460\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 157460\n  end_ms: 160500\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 160500\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166130\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 166130\n  end_ms: 169400\n- text: You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n  start_ms: 169400\n  end_ms: 173470\n- text: Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n  start_ms: 173470\n  end_ms: 176150\n- text: The West treat me like I'm really king\n  start_ms: 176150\n  end_ms: 178320\n- text: I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n  start_ms: 178320\n  end_ms: 182300\n- text: You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n  start_ms: 182300\n  end_ms: 185250\n- text: I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n  start_ms: 185250\n  end_ms: 188110\n- text: You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n  start_ms: 188110\n  end_ms: 190270\n- text: Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  start_ms: 190270\n  end_ms: 194410\n- text: Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  start_ms: 194410\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200480\n- text: I'll put your pad on your property fag\n  start_ms: 200480\n  end_ms: 201690\n- text: Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n  start_ms: 201690\n  end_ms: 203370\n- text: If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n  start_ms: 203370\n  end_ms: 204800\n- text: Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n  start_ms: 204800\n  end_ms: 206130\n- text: Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n  start_ms: 206130\n  end_ms: 207810\n- text: Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n  start_ms: 207810\n  end_ms: 209410\n- text: Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n  start_ms: 209410\n  end_ms: 211280\n- text: Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n  start_ms: 211280\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215350\n- text: Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  start_ms: 215350\n  end_ms: 216950\n- text: Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n  start_ms: 216950\n  end_ms: 218650\n- text: Slaughterhouse a regime\n  start_ms: 218650\n  end_ms: 220580\n- text: I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  start_ms: 220580\n  end_ms: 221520\n- text: Everybody wanna be down with the king\n  start_ms: 221520\n  end_ms: 223120\n- text: No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n  start_ms: 223120\n  end_ms: 224530\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 224530\n  end_ms: 227080\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 227080\n  end_ms: 230630\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 230630\n  end_ms: 233100\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 233100\n  end_ms: 236820\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 236820\n  end_ms: 240130\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 240130\n  end_ms: 243180\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 243180\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 249250\n- text: My one goal's to astonish\n  start_ms: 249250\n  end_ms: 251690\n- text: Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n  start_ms: 251690\n  end_ms: 254530\n- text: They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n  start_ms: 254530\n  end_ms: 257870\n- text: I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  start_ms: 257870\n  end_ms: 261160\n- text: They still makin threats on your highness\n  start_ms: 261160\n  end_ms: 264050\n- text: But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  start_ms: 264050\n  end_ms: 267640\n- text: I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n  start_ms: 267640\n  end_ms: 270250\n- text: I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n  start_ms: 270250\n  end_ms: 272040\n- text: Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n  start_ms: 272040\n  end_ms: 276600\n- text: Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n  start_ms: 276600\n  end_ms: 279360\n- text: Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  start_ms: 279360\n  end_ms: 280970\n- text: College kids like Asher Roth\n  start_ms: 280970\n  end_ms: 282210\n- text: Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  start_ms: 282210\n  end_ms: 283880\n- text: And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n  start_ms: 283880\n  end_ms: 285050\n- text: If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n  start_ms: 285050\n  end_ms: 287510\n- text: But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n  start_ms: 287510\n  end_ms: 289230\n- text: Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n  start_ms: 289230\n  end_ms: 291210\n- text: I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n  start_ms: 291210\n  end_ms: 292870\n- text: Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  start_ms: 292870\n  end_ms: 294590\n- text: Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  start_ms: 294590\n  end_ms: 295790\n- text: Best bet's to attempt to fly\n  start_ms: 295790\n  end_ms: 296900\n- text: Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n  start_ms: 296900\n  end_ms: 299120\n- text: Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n  start_ms: 299120\n  end_ms: 300230\n- text: Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n  start_ms: 300230\n  end_ms: 302490\n- text: So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n  start_ms: 302490\n  end_ms: 303760\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 303760\n  end_ms: 307140\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 307140\n  end_ms: 309810\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 309810\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 315620\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 315620\n  end_ms: 318680\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 318680\n  end_ms: 321750\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 321750\n  end_ms: 324620\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 324620\n  end_ms: 327810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 327810\nplain: |-\n  You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n  We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n  That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n  Joell Ortiz is the body\n  The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  I am the general, bow now\n  Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  Run up on you with an army it is\n  On 'til it's done, finished\n  You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n  Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n  Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n  He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n  I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n  I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n  You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n  Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n  I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n  Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n  Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n  Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n  Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n  Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n  One two three four five six seven eight\n  I'm hungry like I never ate\n  Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n  Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n  Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n  I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n  Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n  {*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n  Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n  And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n  All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n  Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n  The West treat me like I'm really king\n  I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n  You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n  I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n  You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n  Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  I'll put your pad on your property fag\n  Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n  If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n  Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n  Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n  Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n  Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n  Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n  Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n  Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n  Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n  Slaughterhouse a regime\n  I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  Everybody wanna be down with the king\n  No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  My one goal's to astonish\n  Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n  They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n  I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  They still makin threats on your highness\n  But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n  I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n  Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n  Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n  Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  College kids like Asher Roth\n  Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n  If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n  But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n  Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n  I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n  Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  Best bet's to attempt to fly\n  Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n  Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n  Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n  So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n"},{"id":33641156,"name":"01 Sound Off","trackName":"01 Sound Off","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse","duration":352.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\nWe fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\nWe a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\nThat boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\nJoell Ortiz is the body\nThe cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\nJoe Budden is the pair of legs\nHe runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\nI am the general, bow now\nFuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\nRun up on you with an army it is\nOn 'til it's done, finished\nYou got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\nThen y'all niggas can come wit it\nMe and Joey we a perfect fit\nHe likes startin shit, I like endin shit\nI don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\nI'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\nYou too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\nTry whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\nI don't make threats nigga I promise\nMy style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\nIf you hear it it'll lift your spirit\nTurn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nI got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\nGuess that's why I'm the torso\nI pour sweat when I perform shows\nWhat I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\nY'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\nAnd flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\nRemain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\nDon't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\nUh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\nEvery human out of my sight, before I count to ten\nOne two three four five six seven eight\nI'm hungry like I never ate\nSet a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\nAll these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\nMe and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\nYeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\nI'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\nLet me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\nCause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\nAnd I'm right behind the big guy that shines\nAll the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\nC'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nYou rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\nBuyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\nThe West treat me like I'm really king\nI'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\nYou rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\nI gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\nYou loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\nMatter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\nFuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\nI give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\nI'll put your pad on your property fag\nProperly rob you and hop in the Jag\nIf you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\nYour body'll rock a colostomy bag\nShot in the abs, moms'll be sad\nPops'll be mad, doctor be glad\nPossibly stoppin a plasma droppin\nClock runnin out and the outcome bad\nAny one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\nPretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\nSleep on that and get killed while you dream\nFuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\nSlaughterhouse a regime\nI'm gooned up if you know what I mean\nEverybody wanna be down with the king\nNo-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nMy one goal's to astonish\nTell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\nThey say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\nI tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\nThey still makin threats on your highness\nBut I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\nI think all your mans' Play-Doh\nI don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\nFans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\nGot it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\nTell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\nCollege kids like Asher Roth\nY'all just trying to put food on the table\nAnd I'mma just come and try snatch it off\nIf it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\nBut anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\nWonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\nI'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\nLearn certain shit you ain't meant to try\nGot the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\nBest bet's to attempt to fly\nShit's a gang, you down you in for life\nFuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\nY'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\nSo when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth","syncedLyrics":"[00:13.15] You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n[00:15.54] We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n[00:18.90] We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n[00:21.74] That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n[00:25.81] Joell Ortiz is the body\n[00:27.79] The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n[00:31.75] Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n[00:33.83] He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n[00:37.62] I am the general, bow now\n[00:40.04] Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n[00:42.68] Run up on you with an army it is\n[00:44.14] On 'til it's done, finished\n[00:45.68] You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n[00:47.34] Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n[00:48.64] Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n[00:50.09] He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n[00:51.79] I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n[00:54.15] I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n[00:55.44] You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n[00:57.01] Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n[00:59.13] I don't make threats nigga I promise\n[01:00.46] My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n[01:02.45] If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n[01:03.95] Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n[01:06.91] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[01:09.27] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:13.00] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[01:15.39] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:19.16] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[01:21.38] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:25.27] I put my, money on my clique\n[01:27.52] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[01:32.32] I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n[01:35.67] Guess that's why I'm the torso\n[01:37.76] I pour sweat when I perform shows\n[01:39.64] What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n[01:43.86] Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n[01:46.01] And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n[01:49.06] Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n[01:52.28] Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n[01:55.26] Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n[01:58.75] Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n[02:01.63] One two three four five six seven eight\n[02:03.04] I'm hungry like I never ate\n[02:04.20] Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n[02:06.28] All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n[02:07.74] Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n[02:09.29] Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n[02:10.73] I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n[02:12.28] Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n[02:13.71] {*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n[02:17.06] Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n[02:20.15] And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n[02:21.66] All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n[02:23.72] C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n[02:25.96] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[02:28.14] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:32.02] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[02:34.24] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:38.10] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[02:40.30] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:44.11] I put my, money on my clique\n[02:46.42] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[02:49.73] You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n[02:53.99] Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n[02:56.78] The West treat me like I'm really king\n[02:58.97] I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n[03:02.75] You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n[03:05.80] I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n[03:08.73] You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n[03:11.24] Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n[03:15.06] Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n[03:18.09] I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n[03:20.78] I'll put your pad on your property fag\n[03:22.10] Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n[03:23.59] If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n[03:25.16] Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n[03:26.64] Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n[03:28.59] Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n[03:29.79] Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n[03:31.23] Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n[03:32.80] Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n[03:34.26] Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n[03:35.79] Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n[03:37.27] Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n[03:39.39] Slaughterhouse a regime\n[03:40.54] I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n[03:41.90] Everybody wanna be down with the king\n[03:43.41] No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n[03:44.99] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[03:47.11] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[03:51.02] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[03:53.20] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[03:57.03] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[03:59.35] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[04:03.10] I put my, money on my clique\n[04:05.42] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[04:10.22] My one goal's to astonish\n[04:12.05] Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n[04:15.72] They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n[04:18.17] I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n[04:22.10] They still makin threats on your highness\n[04:24.39] But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n[04:28.76] I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n[04:30.28] I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n[04:32.49] Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n[04:37.05] Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n[04:39.64] Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n[04:41.14] College kids like Asher Roth\n[04:42.64] Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n[04:44.14] And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n[04:45.58] If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n[04:47.84] But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n[04:49.41] Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n[04:51.57] I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n[04:53.23] Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n[04:54.62] Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n[04:56.14] Best bet's to attempt to fly\n[04:57.76] Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n[04:59.37] Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n[05:00.79] Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n[05:02.18] So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n[05:03.93] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[05:06.12] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:10.08] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[05:12.28] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:16.00] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[05:18.30] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:22.16] I put my, money on my clique\n[05:24.43] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[05:27.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: 01 Sound Off\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse\n  duration_ms: 352000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  start_ms: 13150\n  end_ms: 15540\n- text: We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n  start_ms: 15540\n  end_ms: 18900\n- text: We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n  start_ms: 18900\n  end_ms: 21740\n- text: That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n  start_ms: 21740\n  end_ms: 25810\n- text: Joell Ortiz is the body\n  start_ms: 25810\n  end_ms: 27790\n- text: The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  start_ms: 27790\n  end_ms: 31750\n- text: Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  start_ms: 31750\n  end_ms: 33830\n- text: He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  start_ms: 33830\n  end_ms: 37620\n- text: I am the general, bow now\n  start_ms: 37620\n  end_ms: 40040\n- text: Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  start_ms: 40040\n  end_ms: 42680\n- text: Run up on you with an army it is\n  start_ms: 42680\n  end_ms: 44140\n- text: On 'til it's done, finished\n  start_ms: 44140\n  end_ms: 45680\n- text: You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n  start_ms: 45680\n  end_ms: 47340\n- text: Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n  start_ms: 47340\n  end_ms: 48640\n- text: Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n  start_ms: 48640\n  end_ms: 50090\n- text: He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n  start_ms: 50090\n  end_ms: 51790\n- text: I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n  start_ms: 51790\n  end_ms: 54150\n- text: I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n  start_ms: 54150\n  end_ms: 55440\n- text: You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n  start_ms: 55440\n  end_ms: 57010\n- text: Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n  start_ms: 57010\n  end_ms: 59130\n- text: I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  start_ms: 59130\n  end_ms: 60460\n- text: My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  start_ms: 60460\n  end_ms: 62450\n- text: If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n  start_ms: 62450\n  end_ms: 63950\n- text: Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n  start_ms: 63950\n  end_ms: 66910\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 66910\n  end_ms: 69270\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 69270\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75390\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 75390\n  end_ms: 79160\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 79160\n  end_ms: 81380\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 81380\n  end_ms: 85270\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 85270\n  end_ms: 87520\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 87520\n  end_ms: 92320\n- text: I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  start_ms: 92320\n  end_ms: 95670\n- text: Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  start_ms: 95670\n  end_ms: 97760\n- text: I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  start_ms: 97760\n  end_ms: 99640\n- text: What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n  start_ms: 99640\n  end_ms: 103860\n- text: Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  start_ms: 103860\n  end_ms: 106010\n- text: And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n  start_ms: 106010\n  end_ms: 109060\n- text: Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n  start_ms: 109060\n  end_ms: 112280\n- text: Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n  start_ms: 112280\n  end_ms: 115260\n- text: Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  start_ms: 115260\n  end_ms: 118750\n- text: Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n  start_ms: 118750\n  end_ms: 121630\n- text: One two three four five six seven eight\n  start_ms: 121630\n  end_ms: 123040\n- text: I'm hungry like I never ate\n  start_ms: 123040\n  end_ms: 124200\n- text: Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  start_ms: 124200\n  end_ms: 126280\n- text: All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n  start_ms: 126280\n  end_ms: 127740\n- text: Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n  start_ms: 127740\n  end_ms: 129290\n- text: Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n  start_ms: 129290\n  end_ms: 130730\n- text: I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n  start_ms: 130730\n  end_ms: 132280\n- text: Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n  start_ms: 132280\n  end_ms: 133710\n- text: '{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don''t try to rhyme'\n  start_ms: 133710\n  end_ms: 137060\n- text: Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n  start_ms: 137060\n  end_ms: 140150\n- text: And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n  start_ms: 140150\n  end_ms: 141660\n- text: All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  start_ms: 141660\n  end_ms: 143720\n- text: C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n  start_ms: 143720\n  end_ms: 145960\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 145960\n  end_ms: 148140\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 148140\n  end_ms: 152020\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 152020\n  end_ms: 154240\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 154240\n  end_ms: 158100\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 158100\n  end_ms: 160300\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 160300\n  end_ms: 164110\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 164110\n  end_ms: 166420\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 166420\n  end_ms: 169730\n- text: You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n  start_ms: 169730\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 176780\n- text: The West treat me like I'm really king\n  start_ms: 176780\n  end_ms: 178970\n- text: I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n  start_ms: 178970\n  end_ms: 182750\n- text: You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n  start_ms: 182750\n  end_ms: 185800\n- text: I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n  start_ms: 185800\n  end_ms: 188730\n- text: You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n  start_ms: 188730\n  end_ms: 191240\n- text: Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  start_ms: 191240\n  end_ms: 195060\n- text: Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  start_ms: 195060\n  end_ms: 198090\n- text: I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  start_ms: 198090\n  end_ms: 200780\n- text: I'll put your pad on your property fag\n  start_ms: 200780\n  end_ms: 202100\n- text: Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n  start_ms: 202100\n  end_ms: 203590\n- text: If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n  start_ms: 203590\n  end_ms: 205160\n- text: Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n  start_ms: 205160\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 208590\n- text: Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n  start_ms: 208590\n  end_ms: 209790\n- text: Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n  start_ms: 209790\n  end_ms: 211230\n- text: Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n  start_ms: 211230\n  end_ms: 212800\n- text: Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n  start_ms: 212800\n  end_ms: 214260\n- text: Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n  start_ms: 214260\n  end_ms: 215790\n- text: Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  start_ms: 215790\n  end_ms: 217270\n- text: Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n  start_ms: 217270\n  end_ms: 219390\n- text: Slaughterhouse a regime\n  start_ms: 219390\n  end_ms: 220540\n- text: I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  start_ms: 220540\n  end_ms: 221900\n- text: Everybody wanna be down with the king\n  start_ms: 221900\n  end_ms: 223410\n- text: No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n  start_ms: 223410\n  end_ms: 224990\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 224990\n  end_ms: 227110\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 227110\n  end_ms: 231020\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 231020\n  end_ms: 233200\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 233200\n  end_ms: 237030\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 237030\n  end_ms: 239350\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 239350\n  end_ms: 243100\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 243100\n  end_ms: 245420\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 245420\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: My one goal's to astonish\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 252050\n- text: Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n  start_ms: 252050\n  end_ms: 255720\n- text: They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n  start_ms: 255720\n  end_ms: 258170\n- text: I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  start_ms: 258170\n  end_ms: 262100\n- text: They still makin threats on your highness\n  start_ms: 262100\n  end_ms: 264390\n- text: But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  start_ms: 264390\n  end_ms: 268760\n- text: I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n  start_ms: 268760\n  end_ms: 270280\n- text: I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n  start_ms: 270280\n  end_ms: 272490\n- text: Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n  start_ms: 272490\n  end_ms: 277050\n- text: Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n  start_ms: 277050\n  end_ms: 279640\n- text: Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  start_ms: 279640\n  end_ms: 281140\n- text: College kids like Asher Roth\n  start_ms: 281140\n  end_ms: 282640\n- text: Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  start_ms: 282640\n  end_ms: 284140\n- text: And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n  start_ms: 284140\n  end_ms: 285580\n- text: If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n  start_ms: 285580\n  end_ms: 287840\n- text: But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n  start_ms: 287840\n  end_ms: 289410\n- text: Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n  start_ms: 289410\n  end_ms: 291570\n- text: I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n  start_ms: 291570\n  end_ms: 293230\n- text: Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  start_ms: 293230\n  end_ms: 294620\n- text: Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  start_ms: 294620\n  end_ms: 296140\n- text: Best bet's to attempt to fly\n  start_ms: 296140\n  end_ms: 297760\n- text: Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n  start_ms: 297760\n  end_ms: 299370\n- text: Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n  start_ms: 299370\n  end_ms: 300790\n- text: Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n  start_ms: 300790\n  end_ms: 302180\n- text: So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n  start_ms: 302180\n  end_ms: 303930\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 303930\n  end_ms: 306120\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 306120\n  end_ms: 310080\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 310080\n  end_ms: 312280\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 312280\n  end_ms: 316000\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 316000\n  end_ms: 318300\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 318300\n  end_ms: 322160\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 322160\n  end_ms: 324430\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 324430\n  end_ms: 327250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 327250\nplain: |-\n  You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n  We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n  That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n  Joell Ortiz is the body\n  The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  I am the general, bow now\n  Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  Run up on you with an army it is\n  On 'til it's done, finished\n  You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n  Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n  Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n  He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n  I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n  I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n  You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n  Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n  I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n  Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n  Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n  Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n  Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n  Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n  One two three four five six seven eight\n  I'm hungry like I never ate\n  Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n  Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n  Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n  I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n  Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n  {*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n  Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n  And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n  All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n  Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n  The West treat me like I'm really king\n  I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n  You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n  I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n  You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n  Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  I'll put your pad on your property fag\n  Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n  If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n  Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n  Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n  Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n  Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n  Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n  Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n  Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n  Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n  Slaughterhouse a regime\n  I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  Everybody wanna be down with the king\n  No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  My one goal's to astonish\n  Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n  They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n  I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  They still makin threats on your highness\n  But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n  I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n  Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n  Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n  Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  College kids like Asher Roth\n  Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n  If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n  But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n  Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n  I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n  Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  Best bet's to attempt to fly\n  Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n  Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n  Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n  So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n"},{"id":6836745,"name":"Sound Off","trackName":"Sound Off","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse (Bonus Track Version)","duration":352.0,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\nWe fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\nWe a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\nThat boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\nJoell Ortiz is the body\nThe cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\nJoe Budden is the pair of legs\nHe runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\nI am the general, bow now\nFuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\nRun up on you with an army it is\nOn 'til it's done, finished\nYou got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\nThen y'all niggas can come wit it\nMe and Joey we a perfect fit\nHe likes startin shit, I like endin shit\nI don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\nI'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\nYou too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\nTry whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\nI don't make threats nigga I promise\nMy style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\nIf you hear it it'll lift your spirit\nTurn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nI got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\nGuess that's why I'm the torso\nI pour sweat when I perform shows\nWhat I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\nY'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\nAnd flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\nRemain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\nDon't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\nUh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\nEvery human out of my sight, before I count to ten\nOne two three four five six seven eight\nI'm hungry like I never ate\nSet a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\nAll these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\nMe and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\nYeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\nI'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\nLet me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\nCause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\nAnd I'm right behind the big guy that shines\nAll the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\nC'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nYou rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\nBuyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\nThe West treat me like I'm really king\nI'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\nYou rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\nI gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\nYou loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\nMatter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\nFuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\nI give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\nI'll put your pad on your property fag\nProperly rob you and hop in the Jag\nIf you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\nYour body'll rock a colostomy bag\nShot in the abs, moms'll be sad\nPops'll be mad, doctor be glad\nPossibly stoppin a plasma droppin\nClock runnin out and the outcome bad\nAny one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\nPretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\nSleep on that and get killed while you dream\nFuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\nSlaughterhouse a regime\nI'm gooned up if you know what I mean\nEverybody wanna be down with the king\nNo-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nMy one goal's to astonish\nTell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\nThey say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\nI tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\nThey still makin threats on your highness\nBut I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\nI think all your mans' Play-Doh\nI don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\nFans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\nGot it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\nTell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\nCollege kids like Asher Roth\nY'all just trying to put food on the table\nAnd I'mma just come and try snatch it off\nIf it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\nBut anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\nWonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\nI'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\nLearn certain shit you ain't meant to try\nGot the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\nBest bet's to attempt to fly\nShit's a gang, you down you in for life\nFuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\nY'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\nSo when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth","syncedLyrics":"[00:13.07] You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n[00:15.45] We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n[00:18.68] We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n[00:21.04] That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n[00:24.52] Joell Ortiz is the body\n[00:27.22] The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n[00:30.68] Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n[00:33.97] He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n[00:36.95] I am the general, bow now\n[00:39.36] Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n[00:42.45] Run up on you with an army it is\n[00:43.64] On 'til it's done, finished\n[00:45.20] You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n[00:47.16] Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n[00:48.11] Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n[00:49.77] He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n[00:51.43] I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n[00:53.48] I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n[00:55.11] You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n[00:56.84] Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n[00:58.92] I don't make threats nigga I promise\n[01:00.41] My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n[01:01.86] If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n[01:03.36] Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n[01:06.35] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[01:08.81] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:12.58] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[01:15.02] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:18.79] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[01:21.33] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:24.82] I put my, money on my clique\n[01:26.97] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[01:31.49] I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n[01:35.00] Guess that's why I'm the torso\n[01:37.41] I pour sweat when I perform shows\n[01:38.82] What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n[01:43.02] Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n[01:45.80] And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n[01:48.79] Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n[01:51.96] Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n[01:54.86] Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n[01:58.24] Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n[02:01.11] One two three four five six seven eight\n[02:02.97] I'm hungry like I never ate\n[02:03.71] Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n[02:05.62] All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n[02:07.44] Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n[02:09.25] Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n[02:10.41] I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n[02:11.85] Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n[02:13.58] {*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n[02:16.13] Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n[02:19.47] And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n[02:21.16] All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n[02:23.69] C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n[02:25.72] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[02:28.26] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:31.77] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[02:33.95] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:37.46] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[02:40.50] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:43.87] I put my, money on my clique\n[02:46.13] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[02:49.40] You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n[02:53.47] Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n[02:56.15] The West treat me like I'm really king\n[02:58.32] I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n[03:02.30] You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n[03:05.25] I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n[03:08.11] You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n[03:10.27] Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n[03:14.41] Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n[03:17.66] I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n[03:20.48] I'll put your pad on your property fag\n[03:21.69] Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n[03:23.37] If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n[03:24.80] Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n[03:26.13] Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n[03:27.81] Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n[03:29.41] Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n[03:31.28] Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n[03:32.40] Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n[03:33.65] Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n[03:35.35] Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n[03:36.95] Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n[03:38.65] Slaughterhouse a regime\n[03:40.58] I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n[03:41.52] Everybody wanna be down with the king\n[03:43.12] No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n[03:44.53] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[03:47.08] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[03:50.63] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[03:53.10] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[03:56.82] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[04:00.13] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[04:03.18] I put my, money on my clique\n[04:05.17] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[04:09.25] My one goal's to astonish\n[04:11.69] Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n[04:14.53] They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n[04:17.87] I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n[04:21.16] They still makin threats on your highness\n[04:24.05] But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n[04:27.64] I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n[04:30.25] I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n[04:32.04] Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n[04:36.60] Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n[04:39.36] Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n[04:40.97] College kids like Asher Roth\n[04:42.21] Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n[04:43.88] And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n[04:45.05] If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n[04:47.51] But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n[04:49.23] Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n[04:51.21] I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n[04:52.87] Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n[04:54.59] Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n[04:55.79] Best bet's to attempt to fly\n[04:56.90] Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n[04:59.12] Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n[05:00.23] Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n[05:02.49] So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n[05:03.76] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[05:07.14] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:09.81] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[05:12.19] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:15.62] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[05:18.68] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:21.75] I put my, money on my clique\n[05:24.62] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[05:27.81] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sound Off\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse (Bonus Track Version)\n  duration_ms: 352000\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  start_ms: 13070\n  end_ms: 15450\n- text: We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n  start_ms: 15450\n  end_ms: 18680\n- text: We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n  start_ms: 18680\n  end_ms: 21040\n- text: That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n  start_ms: 21040\n  end_ms: 24520\n- text: Joell Ortiz is the body\n  start_ms: 24520\n  end_ms: 27220\n- text: The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  start_ms: 27220\n  end_ms: 30680\n- text: Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  start_ms: 30680\n  end_ms: 33970\n- text: He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  start_ms: 33970\n  end_ms: 36950\n- text: I am the general, bow now\n  start_ms: 36950\n  end_ms: 39360\n- text: Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  start_ms: 39360\n  end_ms: 42450\n- text: Run up on you with an army it is\n  start_ms: 42450\n  end_ms: 43640\n- text: On 'til it's done, finished\n  start_ms: 43640\n  end_ms: 45200\n- text: You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n  start_ms: 45200\n  end_ms: 47160\n- text: Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n  start_ms: 47160\n  end_ms: 48110\n- text: Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n  start_ms: 48110\n  end_ms: 49770\n- text: He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n  start_ms: 49770\n  end_ms: 51430\n- text: I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n  start_ms: 51430\n  end_ms: 53480\n- text: I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n  start_ms: 53480\n  end_ms: 55110\n- text: You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n  start_ms: 55110\n  end_ms: 56840\n- text: Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n  start_ms: 56840\n  end_ms: 58920\n- text: I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  start_ms: 58920\n  end_ms: 60410\n- text: My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  start_ms: 60410\n  end_ms: 61860\n- text: If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n  start_ms: 61860\n  end_ms: 63360\n- text: Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n  start_ms: 63360\n  end_ms: 66350\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 66350\n  end_ms: 68810\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 68810\n  end_ms: 72580\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 72580\n  end_ms: 75020\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 75020\n  end_ms: 78790\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 78790\n  end_ms: 81330\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 81330\n  end_ms: 84820\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 84820\n  end_ms: 86970\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 86970\n  end_ms: 91490\n- text: I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  start_ms: 91490\n  end_ms: 95000\n- text: Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  start_ms: 95000\n  end_ms: 97410\n- text: I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  start_ms: 97410\n  end_ms: 98820\n- text: What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n  start_ms: 98820\n  end_ms: 103020\n- text: Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  start_ms: 103020\n  end_ms: 105800\n- text: And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n  start_ms: 105800\n  end_ms: 108790\n- text: Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n  start_ms: 108790\n  end_ms: 111960\n- text: Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n  start_ms: 111960\n  end_ms: 114860\n- text: Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  start_ms: 114860\n  end_ms: 118240\n- text: Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n  start_ms: 118240\n  end_ms: 121110\n- text: One two three four five six seven eight\n  start_ms: 121110\n  end_ms: 122970\n- text: I'm hungry like I never ate\n  start_ms: 122970\n  end_ms: 123710\n- text: Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  start_ms: 123710\n  end_ms: 125620\n- text: All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n  start_ms: 125620\n  end_ms: 127440\n- text: Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n  start_ms: 127440\n  end_ms: 129250\n- text: Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n  start_ms: 129250\n  end_ms: 130410\n- text: I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n  start_ms: 130410\n  end_ms: 131850\n- text: Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n  start_ms: 131850\n  end_ms: 133580\n- text: '{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don''t try to rhyme'\n  start_ms: 133580\n  end_ms: 136130\n- text: Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n  start_ms: 136130\n  end_ms: 139470\n- text: And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n  start_ms: 139470\n  end_ms: 141160\n- text: All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  start_ms: 141160\n  end_ms: 143690\n- text: C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n  start_ms: 143690\n  end_ms: 145720\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 145720\n  end_ms: 148260\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 148260\n  end_ms: 151770\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 151770\n  end_ms: 153950\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 153950\n  end_ms: 157460\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 157460\n  end_ms: 160500\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 160500\n  end_ms: 163870\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 163870\n  end_ms: 166130\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 166130\n  end_ms: 169400\n- text: You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n  start_ms: 169400\n  end_ms: 173470\n- text: Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n  start_ms: 173470\n  end_ms: 176150\n- text: The West treat me like I'm really king\n  start_ms: 176150\n  end_ms: 178320\n- text: I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n  start_ms: 178320\n  end_ms: 182300\n- text: You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n  start_ms: 182300\n  end_ms: 185250\n- text: I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n  start_ms: 185250\n  end_ms: 188110\n- text: You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n  start_ms: 188110\n  end_ms: 190270\n- text: Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  start_ms: 190270\n  end_ms: 194410\n- text: Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  start_ms: 194410\n  end_ms: 197660\n- text: I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  start_ms: 197660\n  end_ms: 200480\n- text: I'll put your pad on your property fag\n  start_ms: 200480\n  end_ms: 201690\n- text: Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n  start_ms: 201690\n  end_ms: 203370\n- text: If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n  start_ms: 203370\n  end_ms: 204800\n- text: Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n  start_ms: 204800\n  end_ms: 206130\n- text: Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n  start_ms: 206130\n  end_ms: 207810\n- text: Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n  start_ms: 207810\n  end_ms: 209410\n- text: Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n  start_ms: 209410\n  end_ms: 211280\n- text: Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n  start_ms: 211280\n  end_ms: 212400\n- text: Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n  start_ms: 212400\n  end_ms: 213650\n- text: Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n  start_ms: 213650\n  end_ms: 215350\n- text: Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  start_ms: 215350\n  end_ms: 216950\n- text: Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n  start_ms: 216950\n  end_ms: 218650\n- text: Slaughterhouse a regime\n  start_ms: 218650\n  end_ms: 220580\n- text: I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  start_ms: 220580\n  end_ms: 221520\n- text: Everybody wanna be down with the king\n  start_ms: 221520\n  end_ms: 223120\n- text: No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n  start_ms: 223120\n  end_ms: 224530\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 224530\n  end_ms: 227080\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 227080\n  end_ms: 230630\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 230630\n  end_ms: 233100\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 233100\n  end_ms: 236820\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 236820\n  end_ms: 240130\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 240130\n  end_ms: 243180\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 243180\n  end_ms: 245170\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 245170\n  end_ms: 249250\n- text: My one goal's to astonish\n  start_ms: 249250\n  end_ms: 251690\n- text: Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n  start_ms: 251690\n  end_ms: 254530\n- text: They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n  start_ms: 254530\n  end_ms: 257870\n- text: I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  start_ms: 257870\n  end_ms: 261160\n- text: They still makin threats on your highness\n  start_ms: 261160\n  end_ms: 264050\n- text: But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  start_ms: 264050\n  end_ms: 267640\n- text: I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n  start_ms: 267640\n  end_ms: 270250\n- text: I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n  start_ms: 270250\n  end_ms: 272040\n- text: Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n  start_ms: 272040\n  end_ms: 276600\n- text: Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n  start_ms: 276600\n  end_ms: 279360\n- text: Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  start_ms: 279360\n  end_ms: 280970\n- text: College kids like Asher Roth\n  start_ms: 280970\n  end_ms: 282210\n- text: Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  start_ms: 282210\n  end_ms: 283880\n- text: And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n  start_ms: 283880\n  end_ms: 285050\n- text: If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n  start_ms: 285050\n  end_ms: 287510\n- text: But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n  start_ms: 287510\n  end_ms: 289230\n- text: Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n  start_ms: 289230\n  end_ms: 291210\n- text: I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n  start_ms: 291210\n  end_ms: 292870\n- text: Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  start_ms: 292870\n  end_ms: 294590\n- text: Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  start_ms: 294590\n  end_ms: 295790\n- text: Best bet's to attempt to fly\n  start_ms: 295790\n  end_ms: 296900\n- text: Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n  start_ms: 296900\n  end_ms: 299120\n- text: Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n  start_ms: 299120\n  end_ms: 300230\n- text: Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n  start_ms: 300230\n  end_ms: 302490\n- text: So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n  start_ms: 302490\n  end_ms: 303760\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 303760\n  end_ms: 307140\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 307140\n  end_ms: 309810\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 309810\n  end_ms: 312190\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 312190\n  end_ms: 315620\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 315620\n  end_ms: 318680\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 318680\n  end_ms: 321750\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 321750\n  end_ms: 324620\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 324620\n  end_ms: 327810\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 327810\nplain: |-\n  You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n  We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n  That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n  Joell Ortiz is the body\n  The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  I am the general, bow now\n  Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  Run up on you with an army it is\n  On 'til it's done, finished\n  You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n  Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n  Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n  He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n  I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n  I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n  You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n  Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n  I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n  Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n  Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n  Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n  Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n  Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n  One two three four five six seven eight\n  I'm hungry like I never ate\n  Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n  Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n  Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n  I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n  Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n  {*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n  Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n  And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n  All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n  Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n  The West treat me like I'm really king\n  I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n  You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n  I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n  You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n  Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  I'll put your pad on your property fag\n  Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n  If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n  Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n  Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n  Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n  Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n  Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n  Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n  Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n  Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n  Slaughterhouse a regime\n  I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  Everybody wanna be down with the king\n  No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  My one goal's to astonish\n  Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n  They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n  I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  They still makin threats on your highness\n  But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n  I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n  Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n  Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n  Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  College kids like Asher Roth\n  Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n  If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n  But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n  Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n  I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n  Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  Best bet's to attempt to fly\n  Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n  Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n  Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n  So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n"},{"id":20754005,"name":"Sound Off (Produced By STREETRUNNER)","trackName":"Sound Off (Produced By STREETRUNNER)","artistName":"Slaughterhouse","albumName":"Slaughterhouse","duration":351.782313,"instrumental":false,"hasWordSync":false,"plainLyrics":"You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\nWe fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\nWe a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\nThat boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\nJoell Ortiz is the body\nThe cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\nJoe Budden is the pair of legs\nHe runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\nI am the general, bow now\nFuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\nRun up on you with an army it is\nOn 'til it's done, finished\nYou got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\nThen y'all niggas can come wit it\nMe and Joey we a perfect fit\nHe likes startin shit, I like endin shit\nI don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\nI'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\nYou too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\nTry whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\nI don't make threats nigga I promise\nMy style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\nIf you hear it it'll lift your spirit\nTurn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nI got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\nGuess that's why I'm the torso\nI pour sweat when I perform shows\nWhat I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\nY'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\nAnd flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\nRemain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\nDon't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\nUh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\nEvery human out of my sight, before I count to ten\nOne two three four five six seven eight\nI'm hungry like I never ate\nSet a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\nAll these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\nMe and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\nYeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\nI'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\nLet me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\nCause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\nAnd I'm right behind the big guy that shines\nAll the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\nC'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nYou rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\nBuyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\nThe West treat me like I'm really king\nI'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\nYou rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\nI gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\nYou loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\nMatter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\nFuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\nI give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\nI'll put your pad on your property fag\nProperly rob you and hop in the Jag\nIf you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\nYour body'll rock a colostomy bag\nShot in the abs, moms'll be sad\nPops'll be mad, doctor be glad\nPossibly stoppin a plasma droppin\nClock runnin out and the outcome bad\nAny one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\nPretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\nSleep on that and get killed while you dream\nFuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\nSlaughterhouse a regime\nI'm gooned up if you know what I mean\nEverybody wanna be down with the king\nNo-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\nMy one goal's to astonish\nTell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\nThey say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\nI tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\nThey still makin threats on your highness\nBut I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\nI think all your mans' Play-Doh\nI don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\nFans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\nGot it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\nTell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\nCollege kids like Asher Roth\nY'all just trying to put food on the table\nAnd I'mma just come and try snatch it off\nIf it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\nBut anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\nWonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\nI'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\nLearn certain shit you ain't meant to try\nGot the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\nBest bet's to attempt to fly\nShit's a gang, you down you in for life\nFuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\nY'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\nSo when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but my clique\nNothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI fuck with, nothin but gangstas\nNothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\nI put my, money on my clique\nHot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth","syncedLyrics":"[00:13.15] You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n[00:15.54] We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n[00:18.90] We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n[00:21.74] That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n[00:25.81] Joell Ortiz is the body\n[00:27.79] The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n[00:31.75] Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n[00:33.83] He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n[00:37.62] I am the general, bow now\n[00:40.04] Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n[00:42.68] Run up on you with an army it is\n[00:44.14] On 'til it's done, finished\n[00:45.68] You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n[00:47.34] Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n[00:48.64] Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n[00:50.09] He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n[00:51.79] I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n[00:54.15] I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n[00:55.44] You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n[00:57.01] Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n[00:59.13] I don't make threats nigga I promise\n[01:00.46] My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n[01:02.45] If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n[01:03.95] Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n[01:06.91] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[01:09.27] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:13.00] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[01:15.39] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:19.16] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[01:21.38] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[01:25.27] I put my, money on my clique\n[01:27.52] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[01:32.32] I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n[01:35.67] Guess that's why I'm the torso\n[01:37.76] I pour sweat when I perform shows\n[01:39.64] What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n[01:43.86] Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n[01:46.01] And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n[01:49.06] Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n[01:52.28] Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n[01:55.26] Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n[01:58.75] Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n[02:01.63] One two three four five six seven eight\n[02:03.04] I'm hungry like I never ate\n[02:04.20] Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n[02:06.28] All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n[02:07.74] Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n[02:09.29] Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n[02:10.73] I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n[02:12.28] Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n[02:13.71] {*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n[02:17.06] Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n[02:20.15] And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n[02:21.66] All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n[02:23.72] C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n[02:25.96] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[02:28.14] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:32.02] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[02:34.24] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:38.10] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[02:40.30] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[02:44.11] I put my, money on my clique\n[02:46.42] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[02:49.73] You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n[02:53.99] Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n[02:56.78] The West treat me like I'm really king\n[02:58.97] I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n[03:02.75] You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n[03:05.80] I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n[03:08.73] You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n[03:11.24] Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n[03:15.06] Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n[03:18.09] I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n[03:20.78] I'll put your pad on your property fag\n[03:22.10] Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n[03:23.59] If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n[03:25.16] Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n[03:26.64] Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n[03:28.59] Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n[03:29.79] Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n[03:31.23] Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n[03:32.80] Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n[03:34.26] Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n[03:35.79] Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n[03:37.27] Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n[03:39.39] Slaughterhouse a regime\n[03:40.54] I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n[03:41.90] Everybody wanna be down with the king\n[03:43.41] No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n[03:44.99] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[03:47.11] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[03:51.02] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[03:53.20] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[03:57.03] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[03:59.35] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[04:03.10] I put my, money on my clique\n[04:05.42] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[04:10.22] My one goal's to astonish\n[04:12.05] Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n[04:15.72] They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n[04:18.17] I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n[04:22.10] They still makin threats on your highness\n[04:24.39] But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n[04:28.76] I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n[04:30.28] I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n[04:32.49] Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n[04:37.05] Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n[04:39.64] Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n[04:41.14] College kids like Asher Roth\n[04:42.64] Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n[04:44.14] And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n[04:45.58] If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n[04:47.84] But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n[04:49.41] Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n[04:51.57] I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n[04:53.23] Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n[04:54.62] Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n[04:56.14] Best bet's to attempt to fly\n[04:57.76] Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n[04:59.37] Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n[05:00.79] Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n[05:02.18] So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n[05:03.93] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[05:06.12] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:10.08] I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n[05:12.28] Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:16.00] I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n[05:18.30] Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n[05:22.16] I put my, money on my clique\n[05:24.43] Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n[05:27.25] ","lyricsfile":"version: '1.0'\nmetadata:\n  title: Sound Off (Produced By STREETRUNNER)\n  artist: Slaughterhouse\n  album: Slaughterhouse\n  duration_ms: 351782\n  instrumental: false\nlines:\n- text: You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  start_ms: 13150\n  end_ms: 15540\n- text: We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n  start_ms: 15540\n  end_ms: 18900\n- text: We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n  start_ms: 18900\n  end_ms: 21740\n- text: That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n  start_ms: 21740\n  end_ms: 25810\n- text: Joell Ortiz is the body\n  start_ms: 25810\n  end_ms: 27790\n- text: The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  start_ms: 27790\n  end_ms: 31750\n- text: Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  start_ms: 31750\n  end_ms: 33830\n- text: He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  start_ms: 33830\n  end_ms: 37620\n- text: I am the general, bow now\n  start_ms: 37620\n  end_ms: 40040\n- text: Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  start_ms: 40040\n  end_ms: 42680\n- text: Run up on you with an army it is\n  start_ms: 42680\n  end_ms: 44140\n- text: On 'til it's done, finished\n  start_ms: 44140\n  end_ms: 45680\n- text: You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n  start_ms: 45680\n  end_ms: 47340\n- text: Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n  start_ms: 47340\n  end_ms: 48640\n- text: Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n  start_ms: 48640\n  end_ms: 50090\n- text: He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n  start_ms: 50090\n  end_ms: 51790\n- text: I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n  start_ms: 51790\n  end_ms: 54150\n- text: I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n  start_ms: 54150\n  end_ms: 55440\n- text: You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n  start_ms: 55440\n  end_ms: 57010\n- text: Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n  start_ms: 57010\n  end_ms: 59130\n- text: I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  start_ms: 59130\n  end_ms: 60460\n- text: My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  start_ms: 60460\n  end_ms: 62450\n- text: If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n  start_ms: 62450\n  end_ms: 63950\n- text: Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n  start_ms: 63950\n  end_ms: 66910\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 66910\n  end_ms: 69270\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 69270\n  end_ms: 73000\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 73000\n  end_ms: 75390\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 75390\n  end_ms: 79160\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 79160\n  end_ms: 81380\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 81380\n  end_ms: 85270\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 85270\n  end_ms: 87520\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 87520\n  end_ms: 92320\n- text: I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  start_ms: 92320\n  end_ms: 95670\n- text: Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  start_ms: 95670\n  end_ms: 97760\n- text: I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  start_ms: 97760\n  end_ms: 99640\n- text: What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n  start_ms: 99640\n  end_ms: 103860\n- text: Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  start_ms: 103860\n  end_ms: 106010\n- text: And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n  start_ms: 106010\n  end_ms: 109060\n- text: Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n  start_ms: 109060\n  end_ms: 112280\n- text: Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n  start_ms: 112280\n  end_ms: 115260\n- text: Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  start_ms: 115260\n  end_ms: 118750\n- text: Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n  start_ms: 118750\n  end_ms: 121630\n- text: One two three four five six seven eight\n  start_ms: 121630\n  end_ms: 123040\n- text: I'm hungry like I never ate\n  start_ms: 123040\n  end_ms: 124200\n- text: Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  start_ms: 124200\n  end_ms: 126280\n- text: All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n  start_ms: 126280\n  end_ms: 127740\n- text: Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n  start_ms: 127740\n  end_ms: 129290\n- text: Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n  start_ms: 129290\n  end_ms: 130730\n- text: I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n  start_ms: 130730\n  end_ms: 132280\n- text: Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n  start_ms: 132280\n  end_ms: 133710\n- text: '{*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don''t try to rhyme'\n  start_ms: 133710\n  end_ms: 137060\n- text: Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n  start_ms: 137060\n  end_ms: 140150\n- text: And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n  start_ms: 140150\n  end_ms: 141660\n- text: All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  start_ms: 141660\n  end_ms: 143720\n- text: C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n  start_ms: 143720\n  end_ms: 145960\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 145960\n  end_ms: 148140\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 148140\n  end_ms: 152020\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 152020\n  end_ms: 154240\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 154240\n  end_ms: 158100\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 158100\n  end_ms: 160300\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 160300\n  end_ms: 164110\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 164110\n  end_ms: 166420\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 166420\n  end_ms: 169730\n- text: You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n  start_ms: 169730\n  end_ms: 173990\n- text: Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n  start_ms: 173990\n  end_ms: 176780\n- text: The West treat me like I'm really king\n  start_ms: 176780\n  end_ms: 178970\n- text: I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n  start_ms: 178970\n  end_ms: 182750\n- text: You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n  start_ms: 182750\n  end_ms: 185800\n- text: I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n  start_ms: 185800\n  end_ms: 188730\n- text: You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n  start_ms: 188730\n  end_ms: 191240\n- text: Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  start_ms: 191240\n  end_ms: 195060\n- text: Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  start_ms: 195060\n  end_ms: 198090\n- text: I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  start_ms: 198090\n  end_ms: 200780\n- text: I'll put your pad on your property fag\n  start_ms: 200780\n  end_ms: 202100\n- text: Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n  start_ms: 202100\n  end_ms: 203590\n- text: If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n  start_ms: 203590\n  end_ms: 205160\n- text: Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n  start_ms: 205160\n  end_ms: 206640\n- text: Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n  start_ms: 206640\n  end_ms: 208590\n- text: Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n  start_ms: 208590\n  end_ms: 209790\n- text: Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n  start_ms: 209790\n  end_ms: 211230\n- text: Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n  start_ms: 211230\n  end_ms: 212800\n- text: Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n  start_ms: 212800\n  end_ms: 214260\n- text: Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n  start_ms: 214260\n  end_ms: 215790\n- text: Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  start_ms: 215790\n  end_ms: 217270\n- text: Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n  start_ms: 217270\n  end_ms: 219390\n- text: Slaughterhouse a regime\n  start_ms: 219390\n  end_ms: 220540\n- text: I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  start_ms: 220540\n  end_ms: 221900\n- text: Everybody wanna be down with the king\n  start_ms: 221900\n  end_ms: 223410\n- text: No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n  start_ms: 223410\n  end_ms: 224990\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 224990\n  end_ms: 227110\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 227110\n  end_ms: 231020\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 231020\n  end_ms: 233200\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 233200\n  end_ms: 237030\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 237030\n  end_ms: 239350\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 239350\n  end_ms: 243100\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 243100\n  end_ms: 245420\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 245420\n  end_ms: 250220\n- text: My one goal's to astonish\n  start_ms: 250220\n  end_ms: 252050\n- text: Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n  start_ms: 252050\n  end_ms: 255720\n- text: They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n  start_ms: 255720\n  end_ms: 258170\n- text: I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  start_ms: 258170\n  end_ms: 262100\n- text: They still makin threats on your highness\n  start_ms: 262100\n  end_ms: 264390\n- text: But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  start_ms: 264390\n  end_ms: 268760\n- text: I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n  start_ms: 268760\n  end_ms: 270280\n- text: I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n  start_ms: 270280\n  end_ms: 272490\n- text: Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n  start_ms: 272490\n  end_ms: 277050\n- text: Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n  start_ms: 277050\n  end_ms: 279640\n- text: Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  start_ms: 279640\n  end_ms: 281140\n- text: College kids like Asher Roth\n  start_ms: 281140\n  end_ms: 282640\n- text: Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  start_ms: 282640\n  end_ms: 284140\n- text: And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n  start_ms: 284140\n  end_ms: 285580\n- text: If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n  start_ms: 285580\n  end_ms: 287840\n- text: But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n  start_ms: 287840\n  end_ms: 289410\n- text: Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n  start_ms: 289410\n  end_ms: 291570\n- text: I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n  start_ms: 291570\n  end_ms: 293230\n- text: Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  start_ms: 293230\n  end_ms: 294620\n- text: Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  start_ms: 294620\n  end_ms: 296140\n- text: Best bet's to attempt to fly\n  start_ms: 296140\n  end_ms: 297760\n- text: Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n  start_ms: 297760\n  end_ms: 299370\n- text: Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n  start_ms: 299370\n  end_ms: 300790\n- text: Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n  start_ms: 300790\n  end_ms: 302180\n- text: So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n  start_ms: 302180\n  end_ms: 303930\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 303930\n  end_ms: 306120\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 306120\n  end_ms: 310080\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  start_ms: 310080\n  end_ms: 312280\n- text: Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 312280\n  end_ms: 316000\n- text: I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  start_ms: 316000\n  end_ms: 318300\n- text: Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  start_ms: 318300\n  end_ms: 322160\n- text: I put my, money on my clique\n  start_ms: 322160\n  end_ms: 324430\n- text: Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n  start_ms: 324430\n  end_ms: 327250\n- text: ''\n  start_ms: 327250\nplain: |-\n  You herbs we merged, we're an alliance\n  We fight fire with flame-throwers, why would you try us?\n  We a outfit, equivalent to Voltron's\n  That boy Crooked I's equivalent to four arms\n  Joell Ortiz is the body\n  The cannibal slash killer, kill you then eat your body\n  Joe Budden is the pair of legs\n  He runs shit alongside I, the apparent head\n  I am the general, bow now\n  Fuck salutin, I don't really think y'all niggas get it\n  Run up on you with an army it is\n  On 'til it's done, finished\n  You got a problem with any one of my Slaughters\n  Then y'all niggas can come wit it\n  Me and Joey we a perfect fit\n  He likes startin shit, I like endin shit\n  I don't squash the beef, I don't bend a bit, it ain't intricate\n  I'm gon' shoot yo' stupid ass\n  You too could laugh, you gon' die smilin\n  Try whylin I get hostile then I'm violent\n  I don't make threats nigga I promise\n  My style is Stalin mixed with sick lyrics\n  If you hear it it'll lift your spirit\n  Turn your appearance to a disappearance, d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d (ding)\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  I got a raw flow, and I stay hungry more so\n  Guess that's why I'm the torso\n  I pour sweat when I perform shows\n  What I record goes down as the best but the vets won't let that torch go\n  Y'all could keep it, they got flashlights now\n  And flame-throwers, and I got one on my back right now\n  Remain focused, is what I tell myself now and then\n  Don't wanna go back to that block like where Varejao defends\n  Uh-oh (uh-oh) my stomach growls again, I ain't none of you cowards friends\n  Every human out of my sight, before I count to ten\n  One two three four five six seven eight\n  I'm hungry like I never ate\n  Set a table up with knives forks and spoons, I'm 'bout to get a plate\n  All these weak dummies lookin at me like a pepper steak\n  Me and these dudes never separate, we ain't married\n  Yeah but every time I touch a pen I sorta set a date\n  I'll devastate your career, look I'mma demonstrate\n  Let me get a good breath I take before I regulate\n  {*inhales*} Okay (okay) bye-bye you guys, don't try to rhyme\n  Cause line for line what I design is mine and mines, point is I'm divine\n  And I'm right behind the big guy that shines\n  All the light in mine so my eyes can find a nice dime to grind\n  C'mere girl, toma toma, take that take that\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  You rappers chasin popularity by any means doin silly things\n  Buyin too many size 20 skinny jeans\n  The West treat me like I'm really king\n  I'm Pacquiao in the Philippines, illest thing them niggas seen\n  You rappers dressin like you finna sing \"Billie Jean\"\n  I gotta intervene, fuck you I'mma intervene\n  You loud talkin wouldn't kill a thing\n  Matter of fact, where's your head nigga? I got the guillotine\n  Fuck yo' Hollywood limousine and rented bling\n  I give you three red dots and I call it a triple beam\n  I'll put your pad on your property fag\n  Properly rob you and hop in the Jag\n  If you stoppin the profit the Glock'll be poppin\n  Your body'll rock a colostomy bag\n  Shot in the abs, moms'll be sad\n  Pops'll be mad, doctor be glad\n  Possibly stoppin a plasma droppin\n  Clock runnin out and the outcome bad\n  Any one of you niggas that's fuckin with my team\n  Pretty-ass thing with the infra-red beam\n  Sleep on that and get killed while you dream\n  Fuck a rap group, Slaughterhouse a machine\n  Slaughterhouse a regime\n  I'm gooned up if you know what I mean\n  Everybody wanna be down with the king\n  No-no-no-no-no fly zone (no fly zone)\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n\n  My one goal's to astonish\n  Tell the president, V.P. (you could) notify the congress\n  They say I'm arrogant, pompous but I'm honest\n  I tell 'em keep an accomplice away from the accomplished\n  They still makin threats on your highness\n  But I tell 'em where I be, they just ignore the compass\n  I think all your mans' Play-Doh\n  I don't buy that movie \"Fandango\"\n  Fans they know that what, you a soldier to a general, baby steel\n  Got it in the bag, airtight, Navy SEAL\n  Tell lil' dudes I ain't mad at y'all\n  College kids like Asher Roth\n  Y'all just trying to put food on the table\n  And I'mma just come and try snatch it off\n  If it ain't from me, most young dudes will be angrily\n  But anxiously awaitin bankruptcy\n  Wonder what makes lil' muh'fuckers think they're the same as me\n  I'm synchronized, you and your mens'll die\n  Learn certain shit you ain't meant to try\n  Got the ground covered with some niggas in disguise\n  Best bet's to attempt to fly\n  Shit's a gang, you down you in for life\n  Fuck y'all I ain't gotta generalize\n  Y'all ain't able to write what the pen describes\n  So when he asked what I meant and why I tell him\n\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but my clique\n  Nothin but hot shit follow me, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I fuck with, nothin but gangstas\n  Nothin but hustler niggas, sound off, sound off (HUT!)\n  I put my, money on my clique\n  Hot shit, comin outta the barrel of my fifth\n"}]