[Intro: Eminem]
Haha, Swifty McVay!
Mr. Porter, the Kon Artis (ha!)
I told you we wasn't leavin, c'mon!
[Verse 1: Swifty McVay]
I come from a jungle, with a trunk load of punk hoes (n***a)
Muzzle this animal, f** with mechanical
Gun totin hazardous cutthroat, canteloupe can split it
And the Pope couldn't prevent me from sh**tin on n***as
Fitted caps get blew back like bad wind, imagine backspinnin
Into a casket, it happens when ba*tards try to act masculine (ho)
A hell raiser, I smack the skin off your man's face
So fast it'll leave acne on my hand when it land (hah!)
Placed in a cla** where professors came to school with Smith 'n Wessons
Just to teach us a lesson, had that a** hangin up with the flag (yeah)
Parental discretion, I'll send you a video
With me naked havin a session on my urinal (RESPECT IT! HAH!)
When you k** in the nighttime and claimin yo' innocence
I'll be waitin ready to A.K. you and yo' egg Bene-dick {AHH!}
Usin yo' balls to play tennis with (hah)
You'll be in some sh** like flies and f** the witnesses
[Hook: Swifty McVay]
(MOTHERfu*k!) n***as that doubt and thought we wasn't k**in sh**
(WHAT!) Whatever you want, we providin it diligently
(PUMP!) Double barrel wherever we go willingly
(DUMPIN!) On opposition in the streets or industry
(MOTHERfu*k!) n***as that doubt and thought we wasn't k**in sh**
(WHAT!) Whatever you want, we providin it diligently
(PUMP!) Double barrel wherever we go willingly
(DUMPIN!) On opposition in the streets or industry
[Verse 3: Kon Artis]
You was born I was hatched, but you came out deformed
I have nuts of a horse, and you ain't got no balls
Come runnin with tec-9's whenever n***as would call
Bang-bang-bang, bang-bang, shoot up cla**way halls
I don't give a fu*k, who you call to come
You came with thirty n***as, I only came with one
That just goes to show you how much scrap a n***a got in me
You gone off Henny, that liquid courage drivin you into these
Situations you in, don't get that "Purple Pills" sh** confused
With us bein cool up here singin "My Band"
I'm sure you see these little kids cryin over me man
They'll do anything for a f**in autograph
So say that sh** loud enough out of the f**in crowd and
I'll show you the meanin of die-hard fans
Saddam Hussein who sews, who radical act
A mechanical bomb attached to my pelvis
That's what I mean by get, back; I mean get, back
Or find your head detached from that Mitchell & Ness
So find your spinal cord, uh-uh-oh I digress
I guess I'm just too fresh, to finish that line
Denaun's ain't next
[Hook]