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Fight Music


[Chorus: Eminem]
This kind of music, use it, and you get amped to do shit
Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it
It's just some shit, for these kids, to trash they rooms with
Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit
The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it
You just know - that's the new shit
The type of shit that causes mass confusion
and drastic movement of people actin stupid

[Kon Artist]
I come to every club with intention to do harm
With a prosthetic arm
And smelling like Boone Farm
Hiding under tables as soon as I hear alarms
Paranoid thief that'll steal from his own mom
Kuniving Kon
Artis with a bomb
Strapped to my stomach screamin'
"Let's get it on!"
A lust that love the drank
Drunk driving a tank
Rolling over a bank
Cops see me and faint
It's drastic
I'm passed my limit of coke
I think I'll up my high by slitting your throat
Push a baby carriage into the street
Till it's minced meat
Your men's been beat
The minute I step foot on your street
This is fight music!

You know why my hands are so numb? (No)
Cuz my grandmother sucked my dick
And I didn't cum (Oh)
Smacked this whore for talking crap (Bitch)
So what if she's handicapped (What?)
The bitch said Bizarre couldn't rap (haha)
I fuckin hate you
I'll take your drawers down and rape you
While Dr. Dre videotapes you (Hell yeah!)
Satan done got me on this song
Eatin a hotdog readin the Holy Qu'ran
While I'm on the john
Tired of wearin this yellow thong
Take it back Sisqo
You know where it belongs (thong th-thong thong)
Now here's a gun
I'll put it in your palm (baw)
Now go over there and blow off Dru Hill's arms
Fuck your love songs


Just bring who you gon bring on
Who you gon swing on?
I'm King Kong
Guns blow you to king-dom come
Show you machine gun funk
Sixteen M-16's
And one pump (click clack)
Snubbing my paw
Shove it in your jaws
Have you runnin out this fuckin club in your drawers
We lovin the brawls, it's nothin to applaud
But fuck it it's all good
The hood is up in The Source
It's fight music

I'm a nigga that love scuffles
And won't hesitate to sock you again with swollen knuckles
I'm like that
Catch a nigga like bear traps
Blow his head back right in front of the preist
Sayin "Ya here that?"
I slap your freak
Bump you and won't speak
If you step on my feet
You get drowned in your own drink
I suffocated my shrink just for talkin
Came back and fucked up his pall bearers
And made them drop his coffin
It's fight music!

These beads I'm swingin is stingin em
See all these niggaz?
When I step in the club I'm bringin em
And any nigga lookin too hard
We Rodney King'n em
Malice Green to them
And gasoline'n em with premium
Light a cigarette flick it at em or spit it at em
Hold up a picture of his family and kick it at him
Blast while you right hookin
Right when your wife's lookin
Fuck fight music bitch
This is losin your life music

If I could capture the rage
Of today's youth and bottle it
Crush the glass with my bare hands and swallow it
And spit it back in the faces of you racists
And hypocrites who think the same shit but don't say shit
You Liberaces, Versaces and you Nazi's watch me
Cuz you think you got me in this hot seat
You motherfuckers wanna judge me cuz you're not me
You'll never stop me
I'm top speed and you pop me
I came to save these new generations of babies
From parents who failed to raise them cuz they're lazy
So grow to praise me, I'm makin em go crazy
That's how I got this whole nation to embrace me
And you fugazy if you think I'm a admit wrong
I'll cripple any hypocritic critic I'm sicked on
And this song is for any kid who get's picked on
A sick song to retaliate to and it's called



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Composição: A. Young / Denaun Porter / Marshall Mathers / R. Arthur Johnson. Essa informação está errada? Nos avise.


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