Lyrics:
Yo Hip-Hop, Is niggas still talkin
Bout I can't rap, come on now
Look for me, Young K
Took 2Pac beat and got paid
My favorite rapper is Makaveli,
terror
Mariel just had a baby someone else decapitated
Flashbacks of past raps make me so glad I made it
Players is getting traded
I drop a gem
the track, fuck em
The rap struck em harder then gettin hit by a Mack truck
and then backed up on
And any half-assed known rapper to trespass
better be ready
Bronx Style Bob is in the house, what you wanna do? (Party!)
Hen-Gee is in the house, what you wanna do, homeboy? (Party!)
My man Shaquel is in
Here comes a rhyme in your ear
Craig Mack is here, so have no fear
My rhymes push the hack to the rear
I'm severe, rap pioneer, with funk I steer,
not a battle
If a snake doesn't rattle
'Cause my style's as old as a reptile
As slick as the Nu Nile, as new as a new child
So come follow me
their ass cheeks yellin Geronimo
It ain't a problem at all when K solve
Three-hundred and sixty degrees rhymes or boulevards
Are charged, by my entourage,
of the Flavor Unit
And we are Naughty By Nature, and we will just do, by terminating you
I can snap, rap, pack, click-clack, patter-pat-pat
Take that ass
battle, I'm takin no prisoners
I'm slayin MC's right on the spot
Cause I'm the the master of the Rap, the doctor of the Rock
The Jack of all Trades,
[We rock Polo] You cop Chaps at TJMaxx
Think that you could battle me and win? Next plan
There's a better chance of Eminem joinin X-Clan
'cause we
Bitch!
Brick city, yo
Yo, yo funk doc straight lunatic since young
I ate paint chips the rare moon
That pair mics, my maintenance
I battle you
syllable, every rap to my name, ye
The grim reaper came back with a cane
That's me, spittin' crack to your brain
Niggers, they can't stand me, ladies, they
not a battle
If a snake doesn't rattle
'Cause my style's as old as a reptile
As slick as the Nu Nile, as new as a new child
So come follow me
a style, it's conceptual genius
My effect on the scene is, to project that I mean this
You deadbeat, wait until you see my next feat
I get respect for
Hey brooklyn hard rock your style is mad tight!
Your style is mad tight your style is mad tight!!
Hey brooklyn hard rock your style is mad tight!
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot your
kick it live
'Cause it's more that a style, it's conceptual genius
My effect on the scene is to project that I mean this
You deadbeat, wait until
of glory and a fist of pain
A couple of battle scars but shit's the same
Are you not entertained
So all the onlookers and the bystanders
Wait til
[Verse 1:]
In the battle fields mics collide like sword fights
Get stabbed up by the swift technique of a Black Knight
Who pierce strikes like
artisti
Eminem, Fifty tutti i dischi
Gangsta rap industry
Real nigga by the street
Flexing mothafucking hits
Smoking blunts very quick
Catch me in Italy
on his scene
Now the critics and the cynics
And the suits all fear
Another rap metal whore
By the name of Punk with a P
A lot like me
A heavy metal kid
me and rashida rock the battles
It's apparent, your no talent, cause your blazin' in your saddle
Watch these rap bitches get all up in your pockets
represent money
This Verbal Intercourse, fueled by exhaust
The bread winner, head spinner, coldest with the force
No remorse, endorse the rap artist
So
nuttin' but it, all of a sudden
MC's just start to stuttered
From the rap style
Hey, yo, let me rewind, check it out
Check it out
Well, it's the deranged
_(Cropped).jpg/250px-Eminem_-_Concert_for_Valor_in_Washington,_D.C._Nov._11,_2014_(2)_(Cropped).jpg "Eminem")
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