So this has been.my favorite song of OTEP's since it came out in 2004, and I always thought it was a song about a child's narrative of suffering in an abusive Christian home. But now that I am revisiting the lyrics, I am seeing something totally new.
This song could be gospel of John but from the perspective of Jesus.
Jesus was NOT having a good time up to and during the crucifixion. Everyone in the known world at the time looked to him with fear, admiration or disgust and he was constantly being asked questions. He spoke in "verses, prophesies and curses". He had made an enemy of the state, and believed the world was increasingly wicked and fallen from grace, or that he was in the "mouth of madness".
The spine of atlas is the structure that allows the titan to hold the world up. Jesus challenged the state and in doing so became a celebrated resistance figure. It also made him public enemy #1.
All of this happened simply because he was doing his thing, not because of any agenda he had or strategy.
And then he gets scourged (storm of thorns)
There are some plot holes here but I think it's an interesting interpretation.
"This is the life, we gone!" - [Royce Da 5'9"]
"I ain't with the leanin and rockin
That ain't even seen as a option..."
You're nothin without (Focus)
Woo, Long Beach (lay your seats back)
New Jersey (turn your speakers up)
Brook-lyn! Detroit!
[Chorus]
We-we, we lyrical murrrrrrrrrrrderers
Welcome to the Slaughterhouse
(What you talkin 'bout?)
Where we bring them verbal llamas out, bloaw
We-we, we lyrical murrrrrrrrrrrderers
Man, we own these streets
And the freaks they love us
We ain't worried 'bout you fuckers (Slaughterhouse)
Lyrical murderer, blame Rakim
I'm a sniper shootin' my way into your lame top 10
Pistol at your head if I ain't next to Eminem
Then I bust in your face like I'm fuckin' Lil' Kim
Niggaz better pray to the lyrical lord
That I fall off like the umbilical cord before I fill up the morgue
This is how a killer record
With the double-edged triple syllable sword, I'm iller than all
Dineri, see I'm a literary genius
Bury niggaz with words, a cemetery linguist
Most rappers are comedy gold
They like they boyfriend's sodomy hole, they full of SHIT!
Now you could walk through the shadow of death next to that shady street
Where the verbal cocaine business and 80's meet
Where them niggaz is backwards
I'm ridin' with my daughter in the front with the A.K. in the baby seat
We them copycat killers, unleashin' venom
Commit them lyrical murders and then we re-commit 'em
Lyrics be high quality
Bitches be givin' me brain, my dick be deep in they heads like psychology
Independently pennin' the best words that were ever said
The mixture of Leatherhead and Everclear
You can't hide, we everywhere
Now, picture a grizzly standin' next to a teddy bear
[Chorus]
Yeah
Hello hip-hop, I am here, you dyin yeah and I'm aware
A beast so at your wake I'll cry lion's tears
And that's no disrespect to the pioneers
If we ain't who you tryin' to hear
Somethin' either wrong with your eyes and ears
I came in this game screamin' Jers'
Ain't an MC in our lane to try and merge
Try and run with our wave
But I'm cool with bein' Eddie Levert seein' my son on stage
Gun gon' blaze, act up in this joint
And I'ma be Nate Robinson and back up the point
Your run's over, run with us or get run over
I'm here to save this shit, and I brung soldiers
This is lyrical murder
Me and every track have a physical merger
When I stab it in the chest I'ma bit of a curver
So it bleeds to death, like the middle of a unfinished burger
Or sometimes I wrap my hand around his throat
Cause he think his kick is slick or his little snare is dope
Shoot the bass in the face but sometimes I carry a rope
To hang the piano keys when they hittin' every note
I'm what no beat's able to withstand
If you suffer from writer's block and your label got big plans
Listen to this fam
Slide a little dough out that budget, and hire the instrumental hitman
[Chorus]
"I ain't with the leanin and rockin
That ain't even seen as a option..."
You're nothin without (Focus)
Woo, Long Beach (lay your seats back)
New Jersey (turn your speakers up)
Brook-lyn! Detroit!
[Chorus]
We-we, we lyrical murrrrrrrrrrrderers
Welcome to the Slaughterhouse
(What you talkin 'bout?)
Where we bring them verbal llamas out, bloaw
We-we, we lyrical murrrrrrrrrrrderers
Man, we own these streets
And the freaks they love us
We ain't worried 'bout you fuckers (Slaughterhouse)
Lyrical murderer, blame Rakim
I'm a sniper shootin' my way into your lame top 10
Pistol at your head if I ain't next to Eminem
Then I bust in your face like I'm fuckin' Lil' Kim
Niggaz better pray to the lyrical lord
That I fall off like the umbilical cord before I fill up the morgue
This is how a killer record
With the double-edged triple syllable sword, I'm iller than all
Dineri, see I'm a literary genius
Bury niggaz with words, a cemetery linguist
Most rappers are comedy gold
They like they boyfriend's sodomy hole, they full of SHIT!
Now you could walk through the shadow of death next to that shady street
Where the verbal cocaine business and 80's meet
Where them niggaz is backwards
I'm ridin' with my daughter in the front with the A.K. in the baby seat
We them copycat killers, unleashin' venom
Commit them lyrical murders and then we re-commit 'em
Lyrics be high quality
Bitches be givin' me brain, my dick be deep in they heads like psychology
Independently pennin' the best words that were ever said
The mixture of Leatherhead and Everclear
You can't hide, we everywhere
Now, picture a grizzly standin' next to a teddy bear
[Chorus]
Yeah
Hello hip-hop, I am here, you dyin yeah and I'm aware
A beast so at your wake I'll cry lion's tears
And that's no disrespect to the pioneers
If we ain't who you tryin' to hear
Somethin' either wrong with your eyes and ears
I came in this game screamin' Jers'
Ain't an MC in our lane to try and merge
Try and run with our wave
But I'm cool with bein' Eddie Levert seein' my son on stage
Gun gon' blaze, act up in this joint
And I'ma be Nate Robinson and back up the point
Your run's over, run with us or get run over
I'm here to save this shit, and I brung soldiers
This is lyrical murder
Me and every track have a physical merger
When I stab it in the chest I'ma bit of a curver
So it bleeds to death, like the middle of a unfinished burger
Or sometimes I wrap my hand around his throat
Cause he think his kick is slick or his little snare is dope
Shoot the bass in the face but sometimes I carry a rope
To hang the piano keys when they hittin' every note
I'm what no beat's able to withstand
If you suffer from writer's block and your label got big plans
Listen to this fam
Slide a little dough out that budget, and hire the instrumental hitman
[Chorus]
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Lyrical Murderers Lyrics as written by Joseph Anthony Budden Ryan Montgomery
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, The Administration MP, Inc., Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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