From:
[Intro: Eminem]
Haha, Swifty McVay!
Mr. Porter, the Kon Artis (ha!)
I told you we wasnīt leavin, cīmon!
[Swifty McVay]
I come from a jungle, with a trunk load of punk hoes (nigga)
Muzzle this animal, fuck with mechanical
Gun totin hazardous cutthroat, canteloupe can split it
And the Pope couldnīt prevent me from shittin on niggaz
Fitted caps get blew back like bad wind, imagine backspinnin
into a casket, it happens when bastards try to act masculine (hoe)
A hell raiser, I smack the skin off your manīs face
so fast itīll leave acne on my hand when it land (hah!)
Placed in a class where professors came to school with Smith īn Wessons
just to teach us a lesson, had that ass hangin up with the flag (yeah)
Parental discretion, Iīll send you a video
with me naked havin a session on my urinal (RESPECT IT! HAH!)
When you kill in the nighttime and claimin yoī innocence
Iīll be waitin ready to A.K. you and yoī egg Bene-dick {AHH!}
Usin yoī balls to play tennis with (hah)
Youīll be in some shit like flies and fuck the witnesses
[Chorus x2: Swifty McVay]
(MOTHERFUCK!) Niggaz that doubt and thought we wasnīt killin shit
(WHAT!) Whatever you want, we providin it diligently
(PUMP!) Double barrel wherever we go willingly
(DUMPIN!) On opposition in the streets or industry
[Kon Artis a.k.a. Mr. Porter]
You was born I was hatched, but you came out deformed
I have nuts of a horse, and you ainīt got no balls
Come runnin with tec-9īs whenever niggaz would call
Bang-bang-bang, bang-bang, shoot up classway halls
I donīt give a FUCK, who you call to come
You came with thirty niggaz, I only came with one
That just goes to show you how much scrap a nigga got in me
You gone off Henny, that liquid courage drivin you into these
situations you in, donīt get that "Purple Pills" shit confused
with us bein cool up here singin "My Band"
Iīm sure you see these little kids cryin over me man
Theyīll do anything for a fuckin autograph
So say that shit loud enough out of the fuckin crowd and
Iīll show you the meanin of die-hard fans
Saddam Hussein who sews, who radical act
A mechanical bomb attached to my pelvis
Thatīs 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 Iīm just too fresh, to finish that line
Denaunīs ainīt next
[Chorus]
Translate to:
[Intro: Eminem]
Haha, Swifty McVay!
Mr. Porter, the Kon Artis (ha!)
I told you we wasnīt leavin, cīmon!
[Swifty McVay]
I come from a jungle, with a trunk load of punk hoes (nigga)
Muzzle this animal, fuck with mechanical
Gun totin hazardous cutthroat, canteloupe can split it
And the Pope couldnīt prevent me from shittin on niggaz
Fitted caps get blew back like bad wind, imagine backspinnin
into a casket, it happens when bastards try to act masculine (hoe)
A hell raiser, I smack the skin off your manīs face
so fast itīll leave acne on my hand when it land (hah!)
Placed in a class where professors came to school with Smith īn Wessons
just to teach us a lesson, had that ass hangin up with the flag (yeah)
Parental discretion, Iīll send you a video
with me naked havin a session on my urinal (RESPECT IT! HAH!)
When you kill in the nighttime and claimin yoī innocence
Iīll be waitin ready to A.K. you and yoī egg Bene-dick {AHH!}
Usin yoī balls to play tennis with (hah)
Youīll be in some shit like flies and fuck the witnesses
[Chorus x2: Swifty McVay]
(MOTHERFUCK!) Niggaz that doubt and thought we wasnīt killin shit
(WHAT!) Whatever you want, we providin it diligently
(PUMP!) Double barrel wherever we go willingly
(DUMPIN!) On opposition in the streets or industry
[Kon Artis a.k.a. Mr. Porter]
You was born I was hatched, but you came out deformed
I have nuts of a horse, and you ainīt got no balls
Come runnin with tec-9īs whenever niggaz would call
Bang-bang-bang, bang-bang, shoot up classway halls
I donīt give a FUCK, who you call to come
You came with thirty niggaz, I only came with one
That just goes to show you how much scrap a nigga got in me
You gone off Henny, that liquid courage drivin you into these
situations you in, donīt get that "Purple Pills" shit confused
with us bein cool up here singin "My Band"
Iīm sure you see these little kids cryin over me man
Theyīll do anything for a fuckin autograph
So say that shit loud enough out of the fuckin crowd and
Iīll show you the meanin of die-hard fans
Saddam Hussein who sews, who radical act
A mechanical bomb attached to my pelvis
Thatīs 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 Iīm just too fresh, to finish that line
Denaunīs ainīt next
[Chorus]