[Verse: Eminem]
For a couple decades (Brrt)
Been lettin' this TEC spray (Brrt)
From that day that I met Dre (Brrt)
So you liable to catch strays (Brrt)
From the second you press play (What?)
I suggest they (What?)
Do not test like an essay (Why?)
'Cause like where my homies out west stay (Yeah)
We can just say (What?)
I'm like an R-A-P-E-R (Yeah)
Got so many eses (S-As), eses (Huh)
Wait, he didn't just spell the word "rapper" and leave out a P, did he? (Yep)
R.I.P., rest in peace, Biggie
And Pac, both of y'all should be living (Yep)
But I ain't tryna beef with him (Nope)
'Cause he might put a hit on me like, "Keefe D, get 'em"
And that's the only way you're gonna be killing me (Nah)
Ain't gonna be on no beat, silly (Yeah)
I beat the beat silly, on the grind like teeth gritting
Call me "obesity" (Why?)
You think it's over? Wait, it's just beginning
Diss me and it ain't gonna be pretty (Nah)
Used to be yea tall, then I grew a little each day 'til I became God
Like James Todd, now your arms are too short to BK brawl
Indeed, they small like DJ Paul (Woo)
My new Benz better than your truck by far
Bitch, suck my balls
You either smoke crack or you're playin' stickball in the street
'Cause you must be on base if you thinkin' you could touch my car (Yeah)
But if the whole world was out to get you (What?)
It'd turn you to a powder keg too
Kyle Rittenhouse, spittin' rounds, the TEC shoots like (Look out, brrt)
And that ain't no sound effect (Woo)
Neither was that, SIG Sauer lets loose
I don't condone gun violence at schools (Nah)
But I can't get these voices out my head (Hey, Marshall, kill, kill, kill)
They're putting words in my mouth like alphabet soup
Got the most content on the continent
And constant compliments give me confidence (I'm a)
To cross of common sense and incompetence (Uh)
I'm cognizant that conflict's a consequence (What?)
Of accomplishments and comp is no competish
I've conquered and conked 'em into unconsciousness
No conscience, I conjure this King Kong or just
Call me "Kamikaze," I'm concoctin' this (Woo, my bad)
But nobody's sixteens are touching these
My fuckin' index fingers fuckin' the nina
Clutchin' the nine millimeter, tuckin' the heat
Got the toaster like an English muffin
No, I mean "toast to" like you drink to somethin'
But it's in a holster, I proceed to bustin'
Fuck around and get popped like Halyna Hutchins
Like I'm Alec Baldwin, what I mean is buckin' you down
Coup de grâce then, right between the fuckin' eyes
Shoot 'em all in, if you think you're fuckin' with me
You're gonna suffer the fuckin' repercussions
The reaper's comin', a heathen, I'm Ethan Crumbley
I keep replenishing fuel while the beat I'm punishing (If I run out of fuel)
