[Eminem talkin']
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Its all bad now man, its all bad
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But yal done fucked up now
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Yeah ha ha, new shit, hey yo
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I just want the whole world to know:
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That I did not start this, but I will finish it
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[Verse]
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Comin up it never mattered what color you was
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If you could spit then you could spit, thats it, thats what it was
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Back when, motherf*ckers was straight back packin
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Cypherin, fightin for life in this rap
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for the mic to get past and you psyched and you gasped
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and you hyped cuz you last and you might whoop some ass
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If you lost then you lost shake hands like a man
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and you swallowed it, when the unsigned hype column
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at The Source was like, the only source of light
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When the mics used to mean somethin, a four was like
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you were the shit, now its like the least you get
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three and a half now just means you a peice of shit
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four and a half or five, means you Biggie, Jigga, Nas,
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or Benzino I dont think you even realize
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you playin with motherf*ckers lives, I dont watched Dre
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get ****ed on The Chronic, probably cuz I was on it
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Now you fucked me outa my mics twice I let it slide
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I said I wouldnt hold my f*cken breathto get a five
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Sh*t I was right, Ida f*ckin died already tryin
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I swear to God I never lie I bet thats why
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you let that b*tch give me that bullsh*t review
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I sat and took it, I aint look at the sh*t we knew
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You'd probly try to f*ck us with Obie and 50 too
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F*ck a relationship we through
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No more Source with street cred, them days is dead
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Dre's got A-Ks to dave mase's head
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Every issue there's an eight page Made-Mens spread
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Will somebody please tell whoever braids his head
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That I am not afraid, hes just a f*ckin waste of lead
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on my pencil, for me to write some sh*t this simple
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So listen closely, as I break it down and proceed
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This old Gs bout to get smoked like raw weed
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You dont know me or my motherf*ckin mother you motherf*ckin punk
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Put me on your motherf*ckin cover to sell your little sell out mag
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I aint mad I feel bad, heres an ad, heres a poster of Ray-Ray and his dad
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You wanna talk about some sh*t that you dont know about? ya
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Lets talk about how your puttin you own son out there
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To try to eat off him, cuz you missed your boat
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Your never gonna float b*tch your just too old
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No wonder your sore now lordy your bored now
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Im pushin thirty your kickin fourty's door down
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B*tch this is war now, and youl never beat me
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all you do is cheat me out of quatables but you know
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that youl always see me on your TV
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Cuz you gotta stay up till three in the mornin
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To see your video played once on BET
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So he-he-he who gets the last laugh?
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Aftermath ya so on behalf on our whole staff
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kiss our ass-hole cracks we'll never fold or hold back
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Just know that Benzinos wack
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no matter how many times I say his name, hell never blow jack
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Your better off tryin to bring R-S-O back
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Look at your track record thats how far it goes back
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Its extortion n Ray own's a proportion
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so half of the staff up there is fresh outta jail from boston
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Bullyin and bossin, caged like a slave they've completely brainwashed him
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And forced him to stay locked in his own office afraid of the softest
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fakest, wannabe gangster in New York
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And its pitiful, cuz I never woulda said sh*t to you if you'd kept your mouth shut
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B*tch now what? Hit a clue, spit it slay
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New sh*t, exclusive ?? whoo kid
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You know what to do with this: use it
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Im through, this is stupid, I cant believe I stooped to this
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bullsh*t to do this...
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And who you callin a b*tch? B*tch. You owe me.
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-----------------
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The Sauce
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| Eminem |
