I told y'all mothafuckas I was comin' back
What now nigga? What now what
What! You's the projects nigga

CHORUS [Eminem]
One shot, two shot, three shots, four shots
All I hear is gunshots this is where the fun stops
Bodies drop hit the floor music's off
Party stops, everybody hit the door someone's lickin' shots off

You bitches is gone, I'm dropped in the club
And I'm tryna run and get my mothafuckin' gun
(Nigga what about your wife?)
Nigga fuck my wife, I'm tryna run and save my mothafuckin' life
Oh shit, the shoot is comin'
Bitches, hoes niggas is runnin'
People shot all over the floor
And I'm tryna make it to the ??? door {*Gunshot*}
That's the sound of the glock
Even DJ ??? fucked around and got shot
I done messed around and forgot my tec
I don't see nobody, but Fab Five and Hex (Kuniva you aight?)

These niggas is trippin' (Where's Bizarre at?)
I'm tryna slip through the exit and get to where my car is at
Bitches screamin' everywhere and niggas is wilin'
Two minutes ago we was all jokin' and smilin'
This chick is clingin' onto me sobbin' and sighin'
Sayin' she didn't mean to diss me earlier and she cryin'
But it's real and cats is gettin' killed
So I hugged her and used her body as a human shield
And she got hit now she yellin' ("Don't leave me!")
I told her I'd be right back and the dumb bitch believed me
I squeezed through the back door and made my escape
I ran and got my 38 I hope it's not to late


(I been tryna call you all day mothafucka where you at?)
I'm on seven mile, what the fuck was that?
Damn somebody hit me from the back (With they car?)
With a gat nigga and my tire flattened
I just hit a pole, them niggas some ho's (Is you hit?)
I don't know but I can tell you what they drove
It was a black Mitsubishi
(Shit that's the clique we beefin' wit' I swear)
Maaan, and I was on my way there
Believe me I'm leavin' a carcass today
And I'ma park my car and walk the rest of the way
I'm in the mood to strut, my AK ain't even tuck
I'ma meet you at the club, we gon' fuck these hoes up


I never seen no shit like this is my life before
People will still camp out from the night before
Sleepin' outside the door waitin' in line
still tryna get inside the club to see D-12 perform
The fire Marshals know, the venue's too small
People are wall-to-wall three thousand and some odd fans
and some come walk from out the parkin' lot
Get into an argument over a parkin' spot
This guy's about to pull his gun out and let's a few of 'em off
Missed who he's aimin' for six feet away's the door in a St. Andrew's hall
Not a stray slidin' all over the place
Sprays one bitch in the face another one of 'em came through the wall
Before anyone could even hear the first shot go off
I'm posted up by the bar havin' a Mozeltoff
Bullet whizzed right by my ear damn near shot it off
Thank God I'm alive I gotta find Denaun
And where the fuck is Von he usually tucks one on him
Wait a minute I think I just saw Bizarre
Nah I guess not, what the fuck, oh my God it was
I never saw him run so fast in my life
Look at him haulin' ass, I think he left his wife
There she is on the ground bein' trampled
I go to grab her up by the damn hand and I can't pull her
God damn there just went another damn bullet I'm hit
My vest is barely able to handle it, it's to thin
If I get hit again I can't do it, I scoop deep
Follow Bizarre's path and ran through it
And made it to the front door and collapsed on the steps
Looked up and I seen Swift, shootin' it out
But I can't see who he's shootin' it out with
But Denaun's right behind him squeezin' his four fifth


[Kon Artis]
It's Friday night came to this bitch right
Big ass to my left and Desert Eagle to my right
I ain't come in this bitch to party, I came in this bitch to fight
Although I can't stay here to fight 'cause I'm poppin' niggas tonight
That's right bitches I'm drunk with revenge
Shot a bouncer in the neck for tryna check when I get in
Swift told me to meet him here
So it's clear that this fucka shot out the back of his truck goes up in this mothafucka
So one shot for the money, two's to stop the show
Third's for the bartender, there's plenty of shots to go
(I just wanna know who's drivin' a black Mitsubishi)
He tried to run so Proof shot him in the knee wit' a three piece


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Composição: Luis Edgardo Resto / R. Arthur Johnson / Marshall Mathers. Essa informação está errada? Nos avise.

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