Obie Trice - Outro lyrics

[Intro: Eminem] Nah, we ain't done! [Verse 1: Eminem] I love being hated, it's great, it, let's me know that I made it I wouldn't have it no other way, I wouldn't trade it for the world Only let's me know that I'm loved By so many other motherf**ers that ain't you And as long, as you keep f**ing with us, we keep f**ing you up And keep pulling the rug from up under you And what's ever more f**ed up, is we enjoy what we're doing So much there ain't nothing that we love more than "Pulling Your Skirts Up" And exposing you hoes so much, people are starting to wonder What's up with them f**ing Wonder Woman underoos Do unto others of you will have done unto you So who the f** you motherf**ers gonna run to When someone runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you? You gon' ask yourself, how come your mans Didn't enter that last round that he had in Curtis Jackson's a** while he had the chance? You keep asking us to keep it on wax but we can't This is past any irrationalization We have captured national media attention Conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension start building Soon as we enter the 106 & Park building Someone's gonna get k**ed and I swear to God If someone so much as even touches one of my people I'll put a million on his head And you ain't got the funds to match or counteract it But I'd rather rap than get into this gangsta sh** And it ain't because I'm a b**h It's because I ain't a b**h, I don't endanger people that I'm with I'm a general, I ain't Bush, I don't send my soldiers to war I'm right there in the middle of the sh** with 'em, so when I do get 'em Orders to storm your headquarters, you'll be f**ing with a [Verse 2: Swifty McVay] f**ing with a beef keeper, see you ain't eager to greet this lyrical meat cleaver That'll eat ya, n***as wanna keep speaking Like it ain't even that deep I got heat that'll sweep a n***a's street See I wouldn't f** with me neither, only heaven can help ya I'll be searching for you longer than The Legend of Zelda Without a failure, there's gonna be hell to tell the Captain that a ba**et hound couldn't even smell ya Body, when I hide ya, I be on that mob sh** You another Hoffa, under the Renaissance, b**h! You get bombed like Lebanon with my own tactic I snatch your head like one of Saddam's kids [Verse 3: Obie Trice] Motherf**er, I'll handle you, we can have it out on any avenue An "Average Man" flipped into an animal Shoot out your mandibles, cannons and ammunition Reload with precision, n***a, know the mechanicals Break the pistol down, you should see them handles The street taught the child, no read up manuals Pushing crack vows, young Nino Brown Chasing green is the dream, when you're young and brown Bound to be a problem child, look what I'm involved in now A 'Dozen Dirty' n***as and they all get down Resolve any problem that enlarge with ours When revolvers we said "all men get down" (Kuniva!) [Verse 4: Kuniva] While you're punching and tackling punks I'm handling chumps, packing a pump That's longer than the elephant trunk On the streets I'm a beast, I feast upon the weak So speak beef, I'll shoot you and scream "increase the peace" A monster, pistol packing, pushing n***as off they Hondas Stomp you, get it cracking, yanking b**hes for they ganja Sneaky as f**, I don't think mama beat me enough When she was sleeping stuff, I was stealing the keys to the truck Shut the f** up! Before you end up dead in the dump truck Or in the streets taking a nap, bleeding and lugged up "Who Want What?" like M. Bleek, with this heat if you ten deep Then f** it, it will be ten sleeping [Verse 5: Proof] Know much'bout Meyer Lansky, don't tussle with my hand speed Clutch your burner, bust it and watch your man bleed We ferocious, toast no holsters Approach us, throw heat straight from the soldiers We the soldiers, yall the youngsters (ha) Youngsters lungs puncture, dead in a dumpster Upstairs the monsters, hand full of drama You scared of the drama, bomber the monster (Boof!) I'm back n***a (Proof!), I reappear Shoot like, homie ain't seeing clear Blackness, carca** covered with cat fish We murkers with no purpose other than practice (Bizzy!) [Verse 6: Bizarre] There's three things I hate: liars, fakes and cheaters Alcoholics, s*uts and f**ing wife beaters I guess that describes my life I don't even know who song this is (Obie Trice) b**h, Bizarre don't give a f** about no hip hop At my release party in a pink tank top and Reeboks This Ja Rule beef I ain't getting in I'll need an R&B singer to sing at my wedding I'll turn your face into a f**ing meat patty I'll f** your mommy and go fishing with your granny I'll sh** on You, I'll pee on R. Kelly, too This is Bizarre, see you "Devil's Night 2"