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[Eminem Talkin]
Its all bad now man, its all bad
But yal done fucked up now
Yeah ha ha, new shit, hey yo
I just want the whole world to
know:
That I did not start this, but
I will finish it
[Verse]
Comin up it never mattered was
color you was
If you could spit then you could
spit, thats it, thats what it was
Back when, motherf*ckers was straight
back packin
Cypherin, fightin for life in this
rap
for the mic to get past and you
psyched and you gasped
and you hyped cuz you last and
you might whoop some ass
If you lost then you lost shake
hands like a man
and you swallowed it, when the
unsigned hype column
at The Source was like, the only
source of light
When the mics used to mean somethin,
a four was like
you were the ****, now its like
the least you get
three and a half now just means
you a peice of ****
four and a half or five, means
you Biggie, Jigga, Nas,
or Benzino I dont think you even
realize
you playin with motherf*ckers lives,
I dont watched Dre
get ****ed on The Chronic, probably
cuz I was on it
Now you f*cked me outa my mics
twice I let it slide
I said I wouldnt hold my f*cken
breathto get a five
Sh*t I was right, Ida f*ckin died
already tryin
I swear to God I never lie I bet
thats why
you let that b*tch give me that
bullsh*t review
I sat and took it, I aint look
at the sh*t we knew
You'd probly try to f*ck us with
Obie and 50 too
F*ck a relationship we through
No more Source with street cred,
them days is dead
Dre's got A-Ks to dave mase's head
Every issue there's an eight page
Made-Mens spread
Will somebody please tell whoever
braids his head
That I am not afraid, hes just
a f*ckin waste of lead
on my pencil, for me to write some
sh*t this simple
So listen closely, as I break it
down and proceed
This old Gs bout to get smoked
like raw weed
You dont know me or my motherf*ckin
mother you motherf*ckin punk
Put me on your motherf*ckin cover
to sell your little sell out mag
I aint mad I feel bad, heres an
ad, heres a poster of Ray-Ray and
his dad
You wanna talk about some sh*t
that you dont know about? ya
Lets talk about how your puttin
you own son out there
To try to eat off him, cuz you
missed your boat
Your never gonna float b*tch your
just too old
No wonder your sore now ?? your
bored now
Im pushin thirty your kickin fourty's
door down
B*tch this is war now, and youl
never beat me
all you do is cheat me out of quatables
but you know
that youl always see me on your
TV
Cuz you gotta stay up till three
in the mornin
To see your video played once on
BET
So he-he-he who gets the last laugh?
Aftermath ya so on behalf on our
whole staff
kiss our ass-hole cracks we'll
never fold or hold back
Just know that Benzinos wack
no matter how many times I say
his name, hell never blow jack
Your better off tryin to bring
R-S-O back
Look at your track record thats
how far it goes back
Its extortion ?? proportion
so half of the staff up there is
fresh outa jail from boston
Bullyin and bossin, caged like
a slave they've completely brainwashed
him
And forced him to stay locked in
his own office afraid of the softest
fakest, wannabe gangster in New
York
And its pitiful, cuz I never woulda
said sh*t to you if you'd kept
your mouth shut
B*tch now what? get a clue, spit
it slay
New sh*t, exclusive ?? whoo kid
You know what to do with this:
use it
Im through, this is stupid, I cant
believe I stooped to this
bullsh*t to do this...
And who you callin a b*tch? B*tch.
You owe me. |
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