Eminem Whoo! hahaha Guess who's back! Mommy! we're home! Say hello to my little friends! Dj muggs, soul assassins, cypress hill! Everybody, put your hands where my eyes can see em!
(Eminem) Everywhere we go people know we roll deep as fuck 40 50 Samoans aint no one wanna deal with us 50 Twizzy obie there won't be no hoe in us They pop shit like they gonna do shit but no one does When we move down to texas back up to los angeles We change the way we move so man up if you can't adjust You may end up getting rushed by too many to handle us Its funny I guess money does have its advantages And it isn't that we just think that we can't be touched Its not like we're just feelin ourselves that much it's just That if someone ever does put us in the clutch We just know that ya'll aint gonna be the one Who's gonna do it Cuz first of all you're pushy and everybody can see that You fuck around get caught in a spot that you shouldn't be at That you got no business being in And we aint even gonna be in it No one's gonna hear nothin no one's gonna see the shit And they'll be in and up out it them boys is bout it bout it And the noise from clips n rounds Will be drownded out by the crowd And you'll be layin on the ground Getting trampled by people dancing Till the club closes and clears out And that's when they see you flattened Nobody saw it happen, all cuz the jaws are flappin And you couldn't stop yappin and took it passed rappin It aint about the music no more, its about tryin to show off And it feels like any minute the bomb is about to go off
Chorus: (eminem) Shit's about to change cuz we aint playin no games We aint budgin neither are they and we aint sayin no names Shit just aint the same when the cage get to sprayin Hip hop is in a state of 9-1-1 It aint about hip hop cuz those days are gone It aint about tryin to rip shop to get props no more Its about tryin not to get popped And get dropped to the floor cuz Hip hop is in a state of 9-1-1
(be real) I took the strap off my holster cuz shit is getting serious All these drugs you be fuckin with make you delirious Thinkin you comin with heat yo son I'm curious How long are you gonna hate us and judge us and jury us Some people can never fade us they make us so curious Mistake us for fakers homey with raider with glorious We live it for real and others just makin the stories up Illusions so broken so live it up you corny fucks If you take a fuckin minute to think about what you done When you stood against a gangsta Who live and die by the gun Caught a hot one sprayin you bitches till there was none I'm like a rollin stone homey I got you under my thumb You silly little bitches can end up right up in ditches We cut you and give you stitches for envyin all our riches Your game's just like a midget you clockin the small digit Dealin with a giant goliath people That's how we live it come on
Chorus
(the godfather) I'm gangsta gangsta who come to pay you a visit On this shit that you call hip hop disfunction Is where its headed When I put it in motion my focus is getting breaded My appetite for destruction is blasted Because I say we got you Stumblin for cover this music dyin in number But you wouldn't pause and wonder admittin Its all glamour when you Enter the business you thinking you runnin shit You witness that funny shit you bitches that aint shit We gangsta we blast first ask questions later all these Imitators paradin like they some playas tryin to Save hip hop the task is something greater Cuz we old fashion coded we loyalty motivators Getting caught and not telling Or more like killin not carin I'm ridin A gangsta feelin no ferin when gangtas dyin I'm in a Food circle with homeys that's suppose to bleed On a 8 mile mission with cypress and og's
Chorus
Compositores: Louis M Freeze (ASCAP), Marshall B Mathers Iii (BMI), Vincent Devoux (Boo Yaa Tribe) (BMI)Editor: World Kommission Ent Music Publishing (BMI)ECAD verificado obra #39680357 em 13/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM