Outro (Cheers)

[Intro: Eminem] Nah, we ain't done! [Verse 1: Eminem] I love being hated, it's great, it lets me know that I made it I wouldn't have it no other way, I wouldn't trade it for the world Only let's me know that I'm loved By so many other motherfuckers that ain't you, and it's bugged 'Cause you keep fucking with us, we keep fucking you up And keep pulling the rug from up under you And what's ever more fucked up, is we enjoy what we're doing So much there ain't nothing that we love more than "Pulling Your Skirts Up" And exposing you hoes so much, people are starting to wonder What's up with them fucking Wonder Woman underoos? Do unto others of you will have done unto you So who the fuck you motherfuckers gonna run to When someone runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you? You gon' ask yourself, how come your mans Didn't empty that last round that he had in Curtis Jackson's ass while he had the chance? You keep asking us to keep it on wax but we can't This is past any rationalization We have captured national media attention Conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension start building Soon as we enter the 106 & Park building Someone's gonna get killed and I swear to God If someone so much as even touches one of my people I'll put a million on his head And you ain't got the funds to match or counteract it But I'd rather rap than get into this gangsta shit And it ain't because I'm a bitch It's because I ain't a bitch, I don't endanger people that I'm with I'm a general, I ain't Bush, I don't send my soldiers to war I'm right there in the middle of the shit with 'em, so when I do get 'em Orders to storm your headquarters, you'll be fucking with a [Verse 2: Swifty McVay] Fucking with a beef keeper, see you ain't eager to greet this lyrical meat cleaver That'll eat ya, niggas wanna keep speaking Like it ain't even that deep I got heat that'll sweep a nigga's street See I wouldn't fuck with me neither, only heaven can help ya I'll be searching for you longer than The Legend of Zelda Without a failure, there's gonna be hell to tell the Captain that a basset hound couldn't even smell ya Body, when I hide ya, I be on that mob shit You another Hoffa, under the Renaissance, bitch! You get bombed like Lebanon with my own tactic I snatch your head like one of Saddam's kids [Verse 3: Obie Trice] Motherfucker, I'll handle you, we can have it out on any avenue An "Average Man" flipped into an animal Shoot out your mandibles, cannons and ammunition Reload with precision, nigga, know the mechanicals Break the pistol down, you should see them handles The street taught the child, no read up manuals Pushing crack vows, young Nino Brown Chasing green is the dream, when you're young and brown Bound to be a problem child, look what I'm involved in now A 'Dozen Dirty' niggas and they all get down Resolve any problem that enlarge with ours When revolvers we said "all men get down" (Kuniva!) [Verse 4: Kuniva] While you're punching and tackling punks I'm handling chumps, packing a pump That's longer than the elephant trunk On the streets I'm a beast, I feast upon the weak So speak beef, I'll shoot you and scream "increase the peace" A monster, pistol packing, pushing niggas off they Hondas Stomp you, get it cracking, yanking bitches for they ganja Sneaky as fuck, I don't think mama beat me enough When she was sleeping stuff, I was stealing the keys to the truck Shut the fuck up! Before you end up dead in the dump truck Or in the streets taking a nap, bleeding and lugged up "Who Want What?" like M. Bleek, with this heat if you ten deep Then fuck it, it will be ten sleeping [Verse 5: Proof] Know much'bout Meyer Lansky, don't tussle with my hand speed Clutch your burner, bust it and watch your man bleed We ferocious, toast no holsters Approach us, throw heat straight from the shoulders We the soldiers, yall the youngsters (ha) Youngsters lungs puncture, dead in a dumpster Upstairs the monsters, hand full of drama You scared of the drama, bomber the monster (Boof!) I'm back nigga (Proof!), I reappear Shoot like, homie ain't seeing clear Blackness, carcass covered with cat fish We murkers with no purpose other than practice (Bizzy!) [Verse 6: Bizarre] There's three things I hate: liars, fakes and cheaters Alcoholics, sluts and fucking wife beaters I guess that describes my life I don't even know who song this is (Obie Trice) Bitch, Bizarre don't give a fuck about no hip hop At my release party in a pink tank top and Reeboks This Ja Rule beef I ain't getting in I'll need an R&B singer to sing at my wedding I'll turn your face into a fucking meat patty I'll fuck your mommy and go fishing with your granny I'll Shit on You, I'll pee on R. Kelly, too This is Bizarre, see you "Devil's Night 2"