Tag: Curtis Jackson

Nah, we ain’t done
I love bein’ hated, it 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 motherfuckers that ain’t you
And is bomb, as you keep fuckin’ with us, we keep fuckin’ you up
And keep pullin’ the rug from up under you
And what’s even more fucked up, is we enjoy what were doin
So much there ain’t nothin that we love more than “Pullin’ Your Skirts Up”
And exposin’ you hoes so much, people are startin to wonder
What’s up with them fuckin one dough a man under rules
Do on to others as you will have done under you
So who the fuck you motherfuckers gonna run to
When someone runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you
You gonna ask yourself, how come your mans
Didn’t enter that last round that he had in Curtis Jackson’s ass while he had the chance
You keep askin’ us to keep it on wax but we can’t
This is past any rationalization
We have captured national media attention
Conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension start buildin’
Soon as we enter the ‘106th & Park’ building
Someone’s gonna get killed 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 shit
And it ain’t because I’m a bitch
It’s because I ain’t a bitch, 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
If I ain’t there in the middle of the shit with ’em, so when I do get ’em
Orders to storm your headquarters, you’ll be fuckin with a…
Fuckin with a piece keeper, see you a nigga that greet this lyrical meat cleaver
That’ll eat ya, niggas wanna keep speakin’, like it ain’t even that deep
I got heat that’ll sweep a nigga street
See I wouldn’t fuck with me neither, only heaven can help ya
I’ll be searchin’ for you longer than the Legend of Zelda
Without a failure, there’s gonna be hell to tell the
Captain that a bassett hound couldn’t even smell ya
Body, when I hide ya, I be on that mob shit
You another Hoffa, under the Renaissance bitch
You get bombed like Lebanon
With my own tactic
I snatch your head like one of Saddam’s wigs
Motherfucker, I’ll handle you
We can have it out on any Avenue
A Average Man flipped into an animal
Shoot out your mandibles
Cannons and ammunition, reload with precision
[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/eminem/-/defence.html]
Nigga know the mechanicals
Break a pistol down, you should see them handles
The street taught the child, no read up manuals
Pushin’ crack vows, young Nino Brown
Chasin’ green is the dream, when your young and brown
Bound to be a problem child, look what I’m involved in now
A ‘Dozen Dirty’ niggas and they all get down
Dissolve any problem that enlarge with ours
When revolvers we said all men get out
(Eminem: c’mon)
While your punchin’ and tacklin’ punks
I’m handlin’ chumps, packin’ 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 shot you and scream ” increase the peace”
A monster, pistol packin’ pushin’ niggas off they Hondas
Stomp ya, get it crackin’, yankin’ bitches for they ganja
Sneaky as fuck, I don’t think mama beat me enough
When she was sleep and stuff, I was stealin’ the keys to the truck
Shut the fuck up, before you end up dead in the dump truck
Or in the streets takin a nap, bleedin’ and lumped up
Who Want What like M. Bleek, with this heat if you ten deep
Then fuck it, it will be ten sleepin’
Don’t muscle with my a land ski
Don’t tustle 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 shoulders (c’mon
)
We the soldiers, y’all the youngsters (ha)
Youngsters lungs puncture, dead in a dumpster
Upstairs the Munster, hand full of drama
You scared of the drama, bomber the monster
I’m back nigga (Proof), I reappear
Shoot like
, you ain’t seein’ clear
Blackness, carcass covered with cat fish
We murkers with no purpose other than practice (bitch)
There’s three things I hate: liars, fakes and cheaters
Alcoholics, sluts and fuckin’ wife beaters
A gat that describes my life (damn)
I don’t even know who song this is
Bitch, Bizarre don’t give a fuck about no hip hop
At my release party in a pink tank top and Reeboks
This Ja Rule beef I ain’t gettin’ in
I’ll need an R & B singer to sing at my wedding
I turn your face into a fuckin meat patty
I’ll fuck your mommy and go fishin’ with your granny
I’ll Shit on You, I’ll pee on R. Kelly too
This is Bizarre, see you Devil’s Night 2