[Produced by Mr. Walt of Da Beatminerz]
[Intro]
Hi!
[Verse 1]
Original Bad Boy on the case, cover your face
Came in the place blowed, and sprayed Puffy with mace
I laced the weed with insect repellent, better check to smell it
Eminem starts with E, better check the spellin'
With a capital, somebody grab me a Snapple
I got an aspirin capsule trapped in my Adam's apple (Hurry up!)
Somebody dropped me on my head, and I'm for sure
That my mother did it, but the bitch won't admit it was her
I slit her stomach open with a scalpel when she was six months
And said "I'm ready now, bitch! Ain't you feelin' these kicks, cunt?"
The world ain't ready for me yet, I can tell
I'll probably have a cell next to a furnace in Hell
I'm sicker than sperm cells with syphilis germs
And I'm hotter than my dick is when I piss and it burns (Pssss! Ow!)
I kick you in the tummy until you sick to your stomach
And vomit so much blood that your clothes stick to you from it (Yuck!)
Hit you in the head with a brick 'til you plummet
If y'all don't like me, you can suck my dick 'til you numb it
And all that gibberish you was spittin', you need to kill it
‘Cause your style is like dying in my sleep, I don't feel it
[Intro]
Hi!
[Verse 1]
Original Bad Boy on the case, cover your face
Came in the place blowed, and sprayed Puffy with mace
I laced the weed with insect repellent, better check to smell it
Eminem starts with E, better check the spellin'
With a capital, somebody grab me a Snapple
I got an aspirin capsule trapped in my Adam's apple (Hurry up!)
Somebody dropped me on my head, and I'm for sure
That my mother did it, but the bitch won't admit it was her
I slit her stomach open with a scalpel when she was six months
And said "I'm ready now, bitch! Ain't you feelin' these kicks, cunt?"
The world ain't ready for me yet, I can tell
I'll probably have a cell next to a furnace in Hell
I'm sicker than sperm cells with syphilis germs
And I'm hotter than my dick is when I piss and it burns (Pssss! Ow!)
I kick you in the tummy until you sick to your stomach
And vomit so much blood that your clothes stick to you from it (Yuck!)
Hit you in the head with a brick 'til you plummet
If y'all don't like me, you can suck my dick 'til you numb it
And all that gibberish you was spittin', you need to kill it
‘Cause your style is like dying in my sleep, I don't feel it
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