[Chainsaw revving]
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
[Verse 1: Eminem]
Got a shit-eating grin
Bitch, show me them itty-bitty titties again
We're in Sin City, since when did we begin to get dignity?
No diggity, bitch, you need to run and go get your figgity-friends
I'm lookin' at your bum-stiggity-bum, hun
The miggity mack's biggity back, don't act wiggity-wack
You can get the figgity-finger: the middle
You little dizzy bitch, sit and spiggaty-spin
Got a 6 o'clock cravin', stop, get Cîroc
It's 'bout to be an unbelievable night
I'll call it surreal, Sir Mix-a-Lot tape in
Hit the spot, spot my next victim
I'm picky like I missed a spot shavin'
Came to sip vodka, shit, yeah, that little chick is hot
But if she got rabies I wouldn't give the bitch a shot
I'd poke her in the rear, but I bet if I lick her, she'll try to chase me
(Ha ha!) What are you: pit, rott, mixed?
Oh, you just got fixed, well shit, then let's lip-lock
If not, then trick, piss off, you snobby little pig snot nose
You think you're hot shit 'cause you're in heat
Well, bitch, if you're solar, then I'm your polar opposite, dog
'Cause I'm colder than popsicle sticks, poppin' shit
Talkin' it, walkin' it, spit boxin'
My sick thoughts are 'bout to lick shots, like the shit's sobbin'
And drip-droppin' in chocolatey whip-toppin'
So whether you're hip-hop, Slipknot, B.I.G., Pac
Kid Rock, Kris Kross, Rick Ross
You'll dig this; if not, then kick rocks in flip flops!
And I produced the track
So you don't have to ask who it is when this shit knocks (Turn up!)
So crank the volume 'til it's bangin' and I'ma keep on sayin'
All the shit I should be hung for and probably killed for sayin'
And I probably will, but not until the day I pop a pill again
Like Joplin 'til I drop, and still
If that don’t do the job of killin' Shady, then the karma will
They sayin' I must bring it as Mohammad
Until the Parkinson's done ate away my brain
And made me Robin Williams crazy
Or I end up with dementia, but you rockin' with a sadist
Hate to say this, but if the thought is entertainin'
I ain't stoppin' til we explain it
Oh my god, for real, man, not again, I'm shakin'
But before I tie a rope around this nob
If they don't like it, got a knob that they can slob on until it's—
Wait, I just forgot what I was thinkin'…
What's it called again? I'm blankin'
The thing above the balls between my legs
And I think that I can feel it dangling, it's throbbing and it's veiny
Wait, I think that I got it, okay
Bitch, I got you (Robin Williams hangin')
Bitch, don't hang in the lobby unless you came to slob me
Come on, kemosabe, it's past time like your favorite hobby
'Cause of the way that I spit she remains on my dick
Then she grab me by the nuts
And try to take my sausage as a hostage
Ain't it obvious? Pretty much a no-brainer
Or should I say Cobainer?
That she's plain addicted to my dick like Lorena Bobbitt
Gotta wean her off it, weiner off it
Like she took my fucking penis, chopped it
And stuck it up between her armpit
And she begun to swing a karambit knife and paint the carpet
At least that's what her train of thought is
'Cause I came, saw, conquered it
Hit it, quit it, and made her plain b-bonkers
And I always end up giving these bitches a complex
And I don't mean apartment
So spread your feet apart
And let me see you do some yoga stretches, splits
Now grab this Cuisinart
And make me breakfast, bitch, that's a prerequisite
And that's just to get in this bedroom, bitch
Walked up to that Ke$ha chick (What up?)
Said my name is Booger, wanna catch a flick?
I'll even let you pick, make her fetch a stick
Bet you if you give this old dog these new tricks
To get familiar with I learned extra quick
Kick a pregnant bitch, oops, I guess the shit
Took an unexpected twist like the neck of the freaking exorcist
Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-ch
Bitch, I said that this mask ain't for hockey
Hate Versace, Versace,I got Münchhausen by proxy
I'm making you sick, don't pretend you can't hear me
You deaf, girl, I said you was foxy
I'll tell a bitch like Bizarre
Bitch, shut the fuck up and get in my car
And suck my fucking dick while I take a shit
And I think with my dick, so come blow my mind
And it tastes like humble pie, so swallow my pride
You're lucky just to follow my ride
If I let you run alongside the Humvee
Unless you're Nicki, grab you by the wrist, let's ski
So what's it gon' be? Put that shit away, Iggy
You gon' blow that rape whistle or me?
(Squee) I love it, love it, love it
'Fore I get lost we're gettin' off
Like this is our exit, now let's hit the highway
And try not to get lost 'til we get to Las Vegas
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
[Verse 1: Eminem]
Got a shit-eating grin
Bitch, show me them itty-bitty titties again
We're in Sin City, since when did we begin to get dignity?
No diggity, bitch, you need to run and go get your figgity-friends
I'm lookin' at your bum-stiggity-bum, hun
The miggity mack's biggity back, don't act wiggity-wack
You can get the figgity-finger: the middle
You little dizzy bitch, sit and spiggaty-spin
Got a 6 o'clock cravin', stop, get Cîroc
It's 'bout to be an unbelievable night
I'll call it surreal, Sir Mix-a-Lot tape in
Hit the spot, spot my next victim
I'm picky like I missed a spot shavin'
Came to sip vodka, shit, yeah, that little chick is hot
But if she got rabies I wouldn't give the bitch a shot
I'd poke her in the rear, but I bet if I lick her, she'll try to chase me
(Ha ha!) What are you: pit, rott, mixed?
Oh, you just got fixed, well shit, then let's lip-lock
If not, then trick, piss off, you snobby little pig snot nose
You think you're hot shit 'cause you're in heat
Well, bitch, if you're solar, then I'm your polar opposite, dog
'Cause I'm colder than popsicle sticks, poppin' shit
Talkin' it, walkin' it, spit boxin'
My sick thoughts are 'bout to lick shots, like the shit's sobbin'
And drip-droppin' in chocolatey whip-toppin'
So whether you're hip-hop, Slipknot, B.I.G., Pac
Kid Rock, Kris Kross, Rick Ross
You'll dig this; if not, then kick rocks in flip flops!
And I produced the track
So you don't have to ask who it is when this shit knocks (Turn up!)
So crank the volume 'til it's bangin' and I'ma keep on sayin'
All the shit I should be hung for and probably killed for sayin'
And I probably will, but not until the day I pop a pill again
Like Joplin 'til I drop, and still
If that don’t do the job of killin' Shady, then the karma will
They sayin' I must bring it as Mohammad
Until the Parkinson's done ate away my brain
And made me Robin Williams crazy
Or I end up with dementia, but you rockin' with a sadist
Hate to say this, but if the thought is entertainin'
I ain't stoppin' til we explain it
Oh my god, for real, man, not again, I'm shakin'
But before I tie a rope around this nob
If they don't like it, got a knob that they can slob on until it's—
Wait, I just forgot what I was thinkin'…
What's it called again? I'm blankin'
The thing above the balls between my legs
And I think that I can feel it dangling, it's throbbing and it's veiny
Wait, I think that I got it, okay
Bitch, I got you (Robin Williams hangin')
Bitch, don't hang in the lobby unless you came to slob me
Come on, kemosabe, it's past time like your favorite hobby
'Cause of the way that I spit she remains on my dick
Then she grab me by the nuts
And try to take my sausage as a hostage
Ain't it obvious? Pretty much a no-brainer
Or should I say Cobainer?
That she's plain addicted to my dick like Lorena Bobbitt
Gotta wean her off it, weiner off it
Like she took my fucking penis, chopped it
And stuck it up between her armpit
And she begun to swing a karambit knife and paint the carpet
At least that's what her train of thought is
'Cause I came, saw, conquered it
Hit it, quit it, and made her plain b-bonkers
And I always end up giving these bitches a complex
And I don't mean apartment
So spread your feet apart
And let me see you do some yoga stretches, splits
Now grab this Cuisinart
And make me breakfast, bitch, that's a prerequisite
And that's just to get in this bedroom, bitch
Walked up to that Ke$ha chick (What up?)
Said my name is Booger, wanna catch a flick?
I'll even let you pick, make her fetch a stick
Bet you if you give this old dog these new tricks
To get familiar with I learned extra quick
Kick a pregnant bitch, oops, I guess the shit
Took an unexpected twist like the neck of the freaking exorcist
Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-ch
Bitch, I said that this mask ain't for hockey
Hate Versace, Versace,I got Münchhausen by proxy
I'm making you sick, don't pretend you can't hear me
You deaf, girl, I said you was foxy
I'll tell a bitch like Bizarre
Bitch, shut the fuck up and get in my car
And suck my fucking dick while I take a shit
And I think with my dick, so come blow my mind
And it tastes like humble pie, so swallow my pride
You're lucky just to follow my ride
If I let you run alongside the Humvee
Unless you're Nicki, grab you by the wrist, let's ski
So what's it gon' be? Put that shit away, Iggy
You gon' blow that rape whistle or me?
(Squee) I love it, love it, love it
'Fore I get lost we're gettin' off
Like this is our exit, now let's hit the highway
And try not to get lost 'til we get to Las Vegas
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