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[Intro: Brick Tamland]


[Verse 1: Eminem]

Life handed me lemons, I jump back into the public eye

And squirted lemon juice in it by now you just wish I’d fucking die

But I electrify, get electrocuted, executed by an executioner

Of my flow too quick for the human eye to detect zooming by

Guess who, what’s happening guys? They told me to shit

I fell off that pot hoped right back up on that crapper and I

Said fuck you with a capital I, look who’s back to antagonize

You don’t like it? You can eat shit, fuck off little faggot and die

You right back like a maggot on my dick grabbing at my shit better get to the back

Of the line, нou wanna get your shot at me what kinda crap is that battle

What kind of rapper would I be before I let another rapper think he’s hot

I’ll bury my face in his stinky twat and go..

Go 'head, space is limited, ain’t even room in the back of my mind

That’s why I ain’t thinking about you, I don’t got time and I told you a thousand times

So how can I find the time to put an alkaline battery in Royce's back

And at the same time put juice in mine? Goddammit Slaughterhouse is signed



[Verse 2: Crooked I]

I’m a menace villain, my pen is sitting spilling, my livers killing

Then I let you witness shit when it hit the ceiling

The niggas willing to give the listeners the sickest feeling

Like mixing some Benadryl and penicillin then I’m filling the clip

With a written, can you picture my pistol drilling?

A million women and children when I’m illing but it isn’t real, it’s a rap

On the real, it’s a wrap, how could you possibly stop the Apocalypse

When I’m atomic bombing the populous

Shock the metropolis hostile as a kid popping the Glock at his moms

And his pops then he hops in his drop with his iPod rocking the Slaughterish

Documentation and lyrics I write with confidence

Write like a columnist slash novelist

I’m in this game to demolish, establish my dominance

Over prominent rappers you popping shit 'til you opposite

I can spit ominous so spit politics now I’m Haile Selassie

Gandhi and Pac of this hip hop genre, bitch


[Verse 3: Royce]

Lyrically I’m a cocaine Altoid

Ability to bring (?) it’s a no brain bout boy

Physically I’m literally a cocaine cowboy, wait-wait

Did I just go almost four bars without talking about my big dick?

The other day me and your thick bitch had a great day and we ate cake

And then we walked and then she tried to jack me off but she lost

Cause she couldn’t handle my shit, wait I sweared, irony of Ryan

Is I am bipolar while I’m rhyming standing beside a big old white bear

Neither one of us fight fair, you are literally looking at Woody and Wesley

In a movie with a white boy ain’t got to jump no where cause I’m here

Nigga I’m on fire yeah and I’m every bitch’s dream

One, two I’m coming for you, I’m a big old nightmare

Nigga this the slaughter stepping up

I’ll pretty much slap your ass and tell you to shut the fuck up

After that I’ll slap your ass again and tell you to shut the fuck up shutting up

And that’s how you body a fucking beat


[Verse 4: Joell Ortiz]

I should be the one that goes slow.. nah, get a stopwatch, clock my flow

Hit the button on top, watch the jaw drop, oh-oh, that's that

Aww Yaowa, when I drop I go outta space

Blackout like Darth Vader’s face, placed in a molten shower

Say something and get them proper mama poppa pouring out vodka

Mama Mia, Em pass me the seeds in this Slaughterhouse casa

Better yet boy go home, better yet boy G4 Chrome, better jet boy

Mark Sanchez, Santanio Holmes, I’m not just any old homeboy

Sitting in a lab picking up a pad

I be spitting bad, I'mma get you mad with this gift I have

Lord duck sufferin succotash when the trigger blast

I’mma put your beak on your fitted hat

Where the liquor at? Sip of yak that bitch and a vicious track (?)

Sly Pro tools to boast Joe smooth I coast to the West like we’re tired of living at

New York here’s a piggyback ride to the motherland, hold on brotherman, on the other hand

Get down, I’m gutter fam, gun butt you with the Eagle handle Cunningham

I don’t wanna talk, I just wanna beef, I don’t want a piece, I want it all baby boy

I don’t wanna eat, I wanna feast up (?) rough piece of shit, you done weak, I’m the one, capiche?

[Verse 5: Joe Budden]

Insane what they call us, ain’t married to the game

But you probably shouldn’t have came to the altar

Every bar like propane for the sawed-off, using (?) to forge you

Eminent Mr. Porter, slaughter my cinnamons emminent torture

All of you feminine marauders, that’s women at war

Men will assault ya, Tommy's and bats that resemble Lasorda

Kidnap your trembling daughter, at least a quarter

I’m administering supporters, got an aura more like Sodom and Gomorrah

Normally something’s wrong with me

Claiming a quantity of the porn I see on the pause to me

When I fix the game they’ll think shit came with a warranty

How the fuck are they gonna stop what I was born to be, corner me, shit belong to me

Two choices, you can get along with me or sit your faggot ass right there in dormancy

Wait, all you missing is heels to be RuPaul

Ain’t nobody that’s real ever knew y’all

Second to none and I’m dealing with Marshall

This time I never come down, deal with the blue balls

You ain’t gotta fear me but you’ll respect me

Niggas who never met me threaten me, want to gillete me

Why don’t you let me come (?) I got some machetes

Swinging spaghetti like it’s heavy some said he deserve an ESPY

In a Chevy like Andretti, put the Dezzy where his chest be


Bad Meets Evil - Loud Noises – текст

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