a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

eminem freestyles on tim westwood | 2009 - eminem lyrics

[intro: eminem, mr. porter & tim westwood]
yo blast me off, tim
where’s that boom?
blast me off, son
right now, we’re doin’ this for beijing, baby, understand how it’s goin’ down
blastin’ off right now, son
real big. real legendary up in the game. drippin’ in swagger juice. we ready to go in this?
yeah, yeah, yeah
are we swaggered up?
swaggered up, yeah
let’s do it, baby. radio 1, westwood [?] about to go down. eminem. kon, baby. alchemist. we’re doin’ it like this. let’s go, baby
yeah, yeah, yeah
a’ight, a’ight, look

[plays “respect my conglomerate” by busta rhymes]

[verse 1: eminem]
i wasn’t born mean, i was pushed to treachery
i walk the streets lookin’ for some p-ss to fetch me
i’m like a veggie, brain is turned to mush, i’m edgy
edgy enough to give reggie bush a wedgie
if he don’t gimme kim, things could get messy
so p-ss that -ss to me, let me squish the left cheek
and press against the right one ’til it’s smushed against me
and leave a dead body in the woods, the mc
with the christopher reeve’s beef
we started out on the wrong foot
or should i say fake leg made outta wood
i shouldn’t, yes i should
ridin’ through the hood, i’m chillin’ with westwood
i’m quite mellow, a white fellow
my pee is bright yellow, i like jell-o
i’m like, “h-llo” to a cute little dyk- on the mic
i’m kinda like iron mike ’cause i bite earlobes

[verse 2: mr. porter]
well, i must must say, well, um
i’m just not g-y, well, um, i must must say, um, well, look
see i’m the first one to cl-ss and the last to leave
i mean the first one to leave outta cl-ss, believe
that i’m a mailbox pimp in my heart ’til i die
even after i’m all gone and my ashes fried
went from an ashy guy, cl-ss clown as high
to a grown -ss man stackin’ motherf-ckin’ paper
runyon ave.’s the clique, d12’s the game
we’ve been spittin’ this sh-t since we was little bébés
gaga goo goo nana, nani do do never
word to my homie em, i’m just too too clever
a 4-5 shot and leave a n-gga’s face lop-sided
the kick from the barrel make you think i’m c-ck-eyed
when i bust it out off in the crowd, n-ggas start divin’
greg louganis went over the bar, i ain’t lyin’
hot iron lethals, not defyin’ a soldier
runyon ave. soldier equals death when it’s over
it’s none colder than n-ggas to understand the struggle
apply the street-muscle we’ve been hard to hustle
we’ve been hard to hustle, we’ve been hard to muscle
apply the street hustle, we’ve been hard to hustle

[verse 3: eminem]
aight, aight
me and westwood blastin’ off, jackin’ off
in a pair of acid washed bumpin’ asher roth
cruisin gratiot ’til i d-mn near crash the car
tryna smash ’em off in the dash, hit the overp-ss, went off
over the bridge into oncoming traffic
caused a m-ssive forty-two car pile-up, not a scratch at all
hopped up holdin’ an axe and saw
jason mask is off when my face is plastered in tabasco sauce
spittin’ flames, kickin’ fire out your -ss, you little b-st-rd
you can p-ss it on, i’m battery acid, dawg
you don’t wanna get my -ss ticked off
i’m harder than playin’ basketball when i’m goin’ through crack withdrawal
d-ck so big it’s like elastic
i tie it in a knot and it looks like mr. fantastic
crossed the path of plastic man with a drastic force
and went spastic, put my p-n-s on cl-ssic sports

[verse 4: mr. porter]
look, i shoot straight off the hip
trey-eight off the grip
see, i ain’t fo’ that sh-t
i got a fist print fo’ yo’ lip
lookin’ sh-t is swole up
like the stomach on a fat pregnant b-tch
and it’s evident
that i’m gettin’ chips like the president
then a lot of woos
keep the tools for the haters left
n-ggas ain’t fadin’ ’em
seel a crack, do a trim
got a lot of dough but you know i ain’t trickin’ on ’em
get some head spinnin’ on ’em
keep the head spinnin’ on ’em
see, i ain’t diggin’ on ’em
keep the head hidden from ’em
you know how it go, no dough trickin’ on ’em
she just wanna pop, see what she can get from her
but she don’t know my name, i’m ’bout the game, i’m pickin’ on her
wrist so cold and my left hand’s numb as summer
i rip a hole ’til she don’t want you gettin’ on her
she makes you wonder if the women even want ya
mr. porter, keep a hungry [?]
learned it from my daddy, i teach it to my daughter
ya oughta know the quota of my whole workout
i float like noah and don’t worry about the rover bounce, yeah

[plays “microphone” by slaughterhouse]

[verse 5: eminem]
once again it’s the sinister, cynical, minister shady
kryptonite to superman, he’s a dentist to amy
administer of the pain, just finished, huffin’ the paint
and m-ffled the fumes like it was nothing because it ain’t
anything in his way, his enemies he just slays
his venom he spray, reaches like beams of energy rays
menacin’ stares, he glares makin’ the hairs
all on the back of your neck stand
like dracula yep
spectacular rep, he’s a tarantula, gargantuan
yah, angela so i command you to start dancin’
part manson, part hannibal, part mechanical shark
throwin’ animal parts at scarlett johansson
enter my gas chamber, ya gangsta, my -ss
he’s got his fangs to your neck, he’s set to strangle ya -ss, hater
you’re facin’ a task greater, he’s chasin’ your -ss
he’s got his face in a mask, your blood stains on his gl-ss table

[verse 6: mr. porter]
i’m so obnoxious, open hand slap n-gga, you with me?
see, you couldn’t, you went off cryin’ like cuba gooding
i swan dive in your b-tch p-ssy, i call her puddin’
she love us [?], i love the b-tch cookin’
scr-p that, you n-ggas weak as chuck nevitt
i f-ck bucket [?] jesus swing reckless
entrepo-po head honcho, hope you’re ready ‘fore i pop his -ss
n-gga, kickin’ through your door
you send goons to do your work
i send goons to mommas in church, i’ve been a problem since birth
got a middle finger up her skirt
i don’t ask a b-tch on a date, i ask her can i f-ck her first
see y’all with this runyon sh-t
i made something out of nothing, i’m a hustler, b-tch
i keep a nine tucked burnin’ up beside of my hip
gotta make a hit for any n-gga for fifty thousand chips, b-tch

[verse 7: eminem]
i’m checkin’ the exposure, a full dose of me exposin’
myself locked inside of a cozy hotel posin’
with or without clothing, next to the decomposin’
bodies erodin’ while i’m dozin’ off overdosin’
windows opening-shutting, doors opening-closing
i think there’s a ghost, too much hydrocodone and codeine
i was only supposed to swallow a half, i took the whole thing
i’m not jokin’, i think i just snorted my nose ring
i need a drink, i’m standin’ over the sink posing
myself, self-loathing, ’cause i’m on a brink, mostly
i don’t wanna think this will make everything rosey
beverly sings, scream while i’m severin’ three toesies
totally frozen while i close in, i’m yodellin’
rosey, won’t you come out to play
ain’t no sense, wastin’ time, cuttin’ and pastin’ headlines
in the papers makin’ shrines of my crimes and capers
my words are whirlwinds, i murder my girlfriends
go to europe and put neurofens in my syrup and stirred ’em
you never heard him like this, so don’t encourage him
the neurosurgeon, c0ke mirrors, and lyrics worse than
the kinda person to get katie couric to cursin’
eighty spirits of ladies ’cause shady murdered the virgins
crazy turn of events and then he emerged
took over the world and reeled in all the children
lured ’em into the building and k!lled ’em
buried ’em in the mulch and mildew and he will
do what he feels and still can spin
straw into gold like rumpelstiltskin
cotton to silk, motrin to tylenol – three pills, the real slim
shady’s entered the building
there’s nothing but crumbled leaves and
tumbleweeds up in this b-tch, mildrid
he’s ill with it, he still shouldn’t be healed
there’s no one as sick as he, mc’s
will get fric-sseed on the grill then
(woah, i like…. f-ck)
right now, building’s on fire, f-ck you

[plays “chonkyfire” by outkast]

[verse 8: eminem]
you wanna start with the hook first
you wanna start with the…oh
i have no idea what i’m doin’, i have no idea what i’m doin’, but
everybody get up, sit up christopher
they’re miserable without you, superman is a-
live and he’s flowin’ like the mystic river
girl, don’t act like you’ve never been kissed before
one, two, three, four, five, six, this uh
rhyme is about to hit you right in the kisser
how did anybody ever find me? i disa-
-ppeared, i was hidin’ in freeway’s beard, just a
hop, skip and a jump from my skin gushin’
nails into my face that i been pushin’
h-llraiser, my face is my pin cushion
it’s like when i’m on the mic i can squish a
sucker like a vise grip, my pen put ya
in the slaughterhouse ’cause your style’s been butchered
i’ll spin chainsaw, take off like the blades on, my brain’s on
hyperdrive, someone put the brakes on

[chorus: eminem & mr. porter]
here’s a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, bridget
don’t try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice, my swag juice
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice, my swag juice
now here’s a smidgen, a midget to get your digits bridget
don’t try to fidget with it (huh-uh), ribbit ribbit
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice (yeah), my swag juice
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice (okay, look)

[verse 9: mr. porter]
i got it figured out now, n-gga, see
m—my mind’s right, money right, can’t n0body stoppin’ how i get it
in hindsight i never should’ve left where i was livin’
i probably wouldn’t be gettin’ pressed by all these women
but then again i wouldn’t have met the ones that i was diggin’
so now i like to look and talk a lot like
she like lil kim and kim and serena williams
just like my [?] i’m a regular charles d-ckens
b-tch, called me talkin’ ’bout she pregnant
she [?] so i mannie fresh’d that ho and left baby
i’ll never trust her, no, sh-t
even if she specialize in mouth m-ssagin’ my t-st-cl-s
i never trusted her a whole lot, even on the first day we met
she’s basically gettin’ her mouth raped
then turn around and ask me for a kiss, “no, b-tch, i’m straight”
i never really been concerned with how my own d-ck taste

[pre-chorus: mr. porter & eminem]
i think i’m ’bout to slip on my swag juice
i think i’m ’bout to slip on your swag juice
oh no! no, no, don’t slip on your swag juice!
yeah, yeah, i think i’m ’bout to slip on my swag juice

[chorus: eminem & mr. porter]
so here’s a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, bridget
don’t try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice, my swag juice
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice
alright

[verse 10: eminem]
slim is in the house, simmer down there sister
bound to get you dizzy ’cause he gets as busy as a
bee; baby, you could throw a frisbee in a blizzard
he’ll catch it in his t–th, what is he? he’s a wizard
standin’ in the disco with a disco biscuit
and i’m pretty sure it isn’t bisquick, is it?
now baby don’t forget to bring your lipstick wit’ ya
i want the kiss ‘fore i blow this b-tch to smithe-
reens, get the guillotines, this is a situ-
ation that’s critical as dre spins his, uh
turntables and he cuts the record like a scissor
checka-chicky-checka-chicky-checka-checka-chicka
we’ll wreck it in a second, tell me what the heck is sicker
wait a minute, i just dropped my necklace in the liquor
now baby just to make a little breakfast and it’s six o’-
-clock in the morning ‘less you want to get some dessert

[chorus: eminem & mr. porter]
here’s a smidgen, a midget to get your bridgets, digit
don’t try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice, my swag juice
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice
i said, here’s a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, bridget
don’t try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
i got you slippin’ on my swag juice, my swag juice
i got you slippin’ on my swag, my swag juice

[outro: eminem & tim westwood]
yeah, ayo, just so everybody knows, that was a hook that we made on the way to the radio station and we were trying to get it right so we may have f-cked it up a couple times or whatever, but this is what we were trying to, like, work out before we came here. especially for westwood, man! ‘specially for you, homie!
d-mn, eminem, [?] baby

- eminem lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular