|
(feat. B-Real, Eminem) |
|
(Intro: Eminem) |
|
WAAAAHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOO!!! (laughs) |
|
Guess who's back?!?! |
|
Mommy! We're home!! |
|
Say hello to my little friends |
|
DJ Muggs, Soul Assassins, Cypress Hill |
|
Everybody! Put your hands where my eyes can see!!! |
|
(Verse: Eminem) |
|
Everywhere we go people know that we roll deep as fuck |
|
Fourty fifty Samoans, they knowing when D-Bo was |
|
50, Tweezy, Obie there won't be no hoe in us |
|
They pop shit like they gon do shit but no one does |
|
From New York down to Texas, back up to Los Angeles |
|
We've changed the way we move so man up if you can't adjust |
|
You may end up getting rushed by too many to handle us |
|
It's funny, I guess money does have its advantages |
|
And it isn't that we just think that we can't be touched |
|
It's not like we're just feeling ourselves that much |
|
It's just, that if someone ever does put us in the clutch |
|
We just know that y'all ain't gon be the one who's gon do it |
|
Cause first of all you're pussy and everybody can see that |
|
You fuck around, get caught in a spot that you shouldn't be at |
|
That you got no business being in, we ain't even gon be in it |
|
No one's gunna hear nothing, no one's gunna see this shit |
|
And they'll be in and up out of it, them boys is bout it, bout it |
|
The noise from (?) be drowned out by the crowd |
|
And you'll be laying on the ground getting trampled by people dancing |
|
Till the club closes, and clears out |
|
And that's when they see you flatened |
|
Nobody saw it happen, all cause your jaws are flapping |
|
And you couldn't stop yapping and took it past rapping |
|
It ain't about the music no more, it's bout trying to show off |
|
And it feels like any minute the bomb is bout to go off |
|
(Chorus: Eminem) |
|
Shit's about to change, cause we ain't playing no games |
|
We ain't budging neither are they, we ain't saying no names |
|
Shit just ain't the same, when the K's get to scream |
|
Hip-hop is in a state of 911 |
|
It ain't about hip-hop, cause those days are gone |
|
It ain't about trying rip shots, to get props no more |
|
It's about trying not to get popped, and get dropped to the floor |
|
Cause hip-hop is in a state of 911 |
|
(Verse: B-Real) |
|
Step off my holster cause shit it's getting serious |
|
All theses drugs you be fucking with make you delirious |
|
Thinking you coming with heat, yo son, I'm curious |
|
How long are you gunna hate us and judge us and jury us? |
|
Some people can never fade us, that make us so furious |
|
Mistake us for fakers, homie we greater and glorious |
|
We living for real and others just making the stories up |
|
Allusions are broken, so live it up, you corny fucks |
|
If you take a fucking minute to think about what you've done |
|
When you stood against a gangsta who live and die by the gun |
|
Got a hot one, spraying you bitches til there is none |
|
I'm like a rolling stone homie, I got you under my thumb |
|
Silly little bitches can end up right up in ditches |
|
We cut you and give you stitches, for envy and all my riches |
|
Your game's just like a midget, you're clocking a small digit |
|
Dealing with the Giant Goliath, people that's how we live it, c'mon |
|
(Chorus) |
|
(Verse: Ganxsta Ridd) |
|
Uh, gangsta Ganxsta who come to pay you a visit |
|
On this shit you call hip-hop, this function is where did it |
|
When I - put it in motion, my focus is getting branded |
|
My appetite for destruction is blasted because I said it |
|
Got you - stumbling for cover, this music dying in numbers |
|
But you wouldn't pause and wonder, admitting it's all glamour |
|
When you - enter the business you thinking you running shit |
|
You witness that funny shit, your bitches they ain't shit! |
|
We gangstas we blast first, ask questions later |
|
All these - imitators parading like they some playas |
|
Trying to - save hip-hop the task is something greater |
|
Cause we old fashioned coded with loyalty motivaters |
|
Get caught, I'm not telling, or more like killing not caring |
|
I'm riding a - gangsta feeling, no fearing when gangstas dying |
|
I'm in a - full circle with homies that's supposed to bleed |
|
On an 8 Mile mission with Cypress and O.G.'s |
|
(Chorus) |
