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beat goes on - d_k (king doka) lyrics

[intro: d.k.]
d.k
d12
slaughterhouse
ready? come on!
it’s ya boy, d.k
yeah, d12
dubai
slaughterhouse!

[verse 1: d.k.]
aey yo, i dont listen wanna force n0body to listen
if you don’t like it, cut it f-cking off and stop b-tching
oh, still there? i guess you’re liking the listen
i’m not beefin’ with ya, how could i beef with a chicken?
hey, you motherf-ckers are guessin’ if i’m high, ya, i was poppin’ pills in the kitchen
now you thinkin’, what the f-ck you think d.k’s thinkin’?
was he trippin’ off the pocket p-ssy, that he was l!cking
hey! my homie (?) gon’ k!ll me, then bring me ya body
cause when i’m squeezing, it’s easy to cause a tsunami
i be on the s-m-n givin’ babies, while mommy behind me
so when you walk by me watch a (?) make (?)
fo-shizzle my nizzle, this shizzle is wizard to high
that’s my homie kuniva, he’s f-ckin’ this girl in her body
man it makes me sick when you tell me to keep it clean
it’s make me wanna cuss more, like mel gibson (?)

[hook]
and the beat goes on, and the beat goes on
and the beat goes on
and the beat goes on, and the beat goes on
and the beat goes on
now slaughterhouse!

[verse 2: joe budden]
check, around dudes that keep hollerin’ for more smoke
talk sl!cker, end up with your jaw broke
i always had to be different by law though
n-ggas had guns, i was carrying a crossbow
quick to put a couple arrows in your torso
human torch flow’ll get rid of all of your false hopes
when you make a little money they begin to hate ya
so i keep animals with me—it’s in my nature
not to be an instigator, but i been a savior
cause if you hear what they’re doing on pen and paper
horrible punch lines, bad flow delivery
and concept bars about concept cars
n-ggas rap about lives they don’t live
as for me, got a few f-cks i don’t give
still i help out if need be – joe beezy
a.k.a. i make it all look easy

[verse 3: royce da 5’9″]
and the beat goes on ’til the beat can’t go no more
this old .44 got a little red nose
on it for you clowns, welcome to the bozo show
hang you frauds by your b-lls, where the rose go bro?
i’m psychotic, i know you got an eye problem
approaching me is like seeing nicki minaj and amber rose out
you a man–then why bother?
i’ll have your black–ss body wrapped in the white waters
i couldn’t edit the fact i’m like farrakhan mad at jesse jackson
i coulda k!lled you, though i shouldn’ta said it
i push the pedal, so to the metal, my foot pathetic
my only question to you homie, is why would you sweat it?
i got the game in a coogi sweater, middle of summer
i heard them n-ggas with booty feather-ticklers is on ya
sneak up on ya, put the pistol on ya
twist ya like a chicken, put the rotisserie on ya

[verse 4: kuniva]
it goes like this when i’m swervin’ on the freeway
speedin’ trough traffic, drag racin’ with d.k
it don’t stop, see i boarded me a flight
touch down in dubai, and i’m wilin’ for the night
spittin’ to the ladies, your boy is going crazy
i smell weed vapors, like nothing can save me
detroit do it big, out here it’s much iller
it’s hotter than a b-tch, but my heat is more k!ller
toast to my goons, we surround the room
post up with the guns down in our shoes
we ain’t being violent, we just wanna drink up
grab a young lady and do whatever we think of
shoutout to (?), your boy is getting lose
stumbled out with 2 b-tches, chuckin’ up the deuce
that’s one night down, i ain’t getting any sleep
f-ck it i’mma stay up the week and the beat

[verse 5: d.k.]
and the beat goes on, sh-t i thought he was ready
i knocked his -ss out just like eminem did with freddy
(?) waitin’ on punchlines, patiently waiting
just like (?) waitin’ on lunch time
nickle 9, joe beezy, kuniva them boys wicked
but we ain’t done yet i’m meeting bizzie and swifty
dubai is one fire, we burning this (?)
and we..

[verse 6: swifty mcway]
parking lot pimpin’, sippin’ on vodka mixed with hennessy
and hittin’ on my bong, as i’m sitting in a car
ready to pull up girls’ thongs, and haul -ss
threw her in my ride, pour her through a tall gl-ss
we got smashed, i couldn’t even make it to the telly
so i’m outside f-ckin’ on the dash
then we woke up, early in the morning
and im doing donuts, hublot, so what
now i’m back in the liquor store, drinking the same cup
9:30 in the morning my breakfast is blunts
and when it comes to lunch, i’m at the strip bar
eatin’ weed brownies with a bunch of b-tches and i’m far
away from this planet, i’m on cloud 9
199 thousand times 9
i don’t find trouble, trouble finds me
but it’s fine, i got a tech nine to intervene

[verse 7: bizarre & (d.k.)]
i’m so hiiiiigh! i’m higher than the ceilin’
4 in the mornin’ watching “all my children”
bizarre party, party real hard
c0ke and hennessy, life of a rock star
16 vicodin, 14 mescaline
(old school cadillacs, we don’t drive limousines)
so fresh and so clean, like an outkast member
i can make it snow in mid december
kush, blunts, bottles of mescado
from detroit to aspen, colorado
(sniff these pines, don’t be nervous)
16 wh0r-s from the escort service
i’mma f-ck all 10 with no rubber (you nasty!)
probably die of aids in the middle of next summer
bizzare too high, in the middle of dubai
smokin’ chocolate thaaaaaai

[outro: d.k.]
sh-t, we outta here…

- d_k king doka lyrics

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