Come over in my coupe car Come and shake head with a rapstar [verse 2] Step over! I'll be back! And while again! And again and again, I'm the boss in my
bitch [chorus] My paper born, my paper grows My paper developin', but he doesn't die She likes my style - Com'on guys! My paper born, my paper grows My
on that cash if you decide to invest You sound like Big, you sound like Jay, you sound like D And I bet, when I go plat, you'll sound like me Shabaam
forget those screams (yea!) Till the shots go off! "But that's what you get for stuntin' on my block show off" Get over us, get over us or kiss my Ak (
oppurtunity Too make a difference in music but gave no oppurtunity Nothing new or fresh just the same ass sound Same ol' producers with the same ass sound Up and coming
and through your connects Def Jam, you pushed over five million SoundScan And not to mention, your co-horts and henchmen Dame, Biggs, Lyor, Kev' and Russell
cash if you decide to invest You sound like Big, you sound like Jay, you sound like D And I bet, when I go plat, you'll sound like me Shabaam Sahdeeq
Yo.. yo! (* Eminem hachs up spit *) Mic check.. (My dick!) Testing.. one, two (* Eminem hach-spits on mic *) Ffff-fuck.. (My dick!) My nuts.. My attitude
over "because you got a Benz and a black Range Rover" or in my four, hittin' corners on switches mad cause I got a car low, full of bitches my style is
feelings hurt thinkin this is just a rap To all you little mamas, that wanna get my number After the show is over, you wanna come on over You wanna sip
: Yo.. yo! (* Eminem hachs up spit *) Mic check.. (My dick!) Testing.. one, two (* Eminem hach-spits on mic *) Ffff-fuck.. (My dick!) My nuts.. My attitude
play, Man there said, "Come back some other day, You sound like a hillbilly; We want folk singer here." Well, I got a harmonica job, begun to play, Blowin' my
Let us around, What's that sound? It's goin' down [Chorus:] Fuck all y'all, Fuckin' with my mind, Until you all fall, Misanthropy Fuckin' with my mind
on my street Oh we gon' eat, and anybody in my path is gettin beat [Chorus] [Grand Puba] Me and my soldiers commit espionage, for that 3-car garage
a drink, fuck lotto Goin all out, all over, best believe Playin shits for keeps and wild tricks up my sleeve Chad-i-o, rollin wit Cru Beileve in my music
