eminem x mf doom x westside gunn - nitin randhawa lyrics
[intro: mf doom]
one, one, two, two, two
you are watching a master at work
nitin randhawa
[verse 1: mf doom]
keep your mind on your mask, kid, holler for my classics
it’s drastic, villain, the hydrochloric acid
splashed it, pulled the nine, reached then he blasted
pow! ten stripes on a basket
new york style wild, cheddar grab easy
it’s only entertainment though, when thought out completely
sad demeanor, could get him the drop and bag cleaner
master schemer, expert in that arena
puffin’ pasadena, you read the grass was greener
black beamer, i8, she gyrate
rubbing shoulders of pigs who don’t fly straight
just ate, causing indigestion
will soon regurgitate, into profits, no question
nosy agent sniffing around, pay attention
you can take that to the bank, thanks, don’t mention
pleasure’s all mine, i ain’t mad at y’all
clear advantage like playing paddle ball on adderall
be brief, that is all
aight, one more rhyme
self*snitching rappers who’s lines is pure pork rinds
[verse 2: westside gunn]
ayo, it’s after midnight, rocking midnight studios
vacheron got my wrist right
brick*white patek, he spray jager, put the reggie on ice, nice
price on your baby mama head, no lice, christ
chuck taylor on the gucci knit
out the carrera shooting two uzi’s on some movie sh*t
who he hit? work tilapia
you ever had b*tterflies and two are locked up?
my n*gga bagged the whole ramadan, he f*cked the mosque up
thirty days, worthy praise
with the sleep*late, got a early grave on me
met my plug twice, but i get them sh*ts every time
met gala, i rock a heavy shine
mind’s gone collecting hebrus
he on the cap reading hebrews, i’m in my cell eating seafood
big h on the hermes dishes
pistol whipped the n*gga, left his whole head twisted
b*tch, this the finest grape, life is great
if they kick down the door, hit the fire escape, wait
you done heard dope before (you done heard dope before)
but this that new batch (new batch)
with one time i’m getting four more (i can get four more)
copped me a new mac (brrr, brrr, brrr, brrr)
[verse: eminem]
got an axe in the duffel bag
couple of f*gs stuffed in the backseat
muzzled and gagged, wrapped in bubble wrap
two lesbians, a couple hustler mags
now grab the pez dispenser
fill it up to the max with muscle relaxers
the governor of alaska, she l*sts when i ask her
to shove my pulaski sausage up in her ass, huh
while we hover over nebraska
shootin’ at the f*ckin’ buffalo pasture
in the helicopter, man, i can’t f*ck her no faster
she’s screamin’ “grab my titties, shady, suck on those b*st*rds”
but i ain’t no sucker, i won’t snuggle up with her after
i’m a gigolo, b*tch, i look like the juggalo rapper?
every day, man, i just seem to get a little bit doper
sh*t, back down? man, i’d rather l!ck on a scr*t*m
and eat the f*ckin’ octomom’s p*ssy lips with some okra
while i watch whoopi goldberg scissor with oprah
while rosie p*ssy*farts and takes a p*ss on the sofa
get a b*n*r and play d*ck swords with the jonas brothers
your motherf*ckin’ mother’s aroma’s like no other
i keep thinkin’ of her smothered in somas
[outro: eminem]
it’s chemical warfare, drop bombs like saddam
i’m bringing the drama, like barack obama
playing rock ’em sock ’em robots with the octomama
i’m vato loco, homie i’ll c*ck those llamas
for chemical warfare
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