[Intro: 2Pac, ๐๐ข ๐๐ถ๐ญ๐ฆ, ๐๐บ๐ถ๐ป๐ฒ๐บ, ๐๐๐๐ก๐๐, *DJ Green Lantern*]
Get on yo knees n***a, get on yo knees and pray
๐๐ฎ, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ค๐ญ๐ข๐ช๐ฎ ๐บ๐ข ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ'๐ด ๐ข ๐ค๐ณ๐ข๐ค๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ฎ ๐ช๐ด ๐ข ๐๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฏ ๐ด๐ญ๐ถ๐ต ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต'๐ด ๐๐ข๐ช๐ญ๐ช๐ฆ ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฏ' ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ด ๐ถ๐ฑ?
๐๐ต๐ฎ
๐๐ฒ๐ฎ๐ต
(*The Evil Genius*)
๐'๐บ๐ผ๐ป
๐-๐-๐-๐-๐-๐-๐-๐จ๐ป๐ถ๐
๐๐ฎ๐ถ๐น๐ถ๐ฒ (๐๐๐๐ฉ?), ๐ฐ๐ผ๐บ๐ฒ ๐ต๐ฒ๐ฟ๐ฒ, ๐ฏ๐ฎ๐ฏ๐! ๐๐ฟ๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ ๐ต๐ถ๐ ๐ข๐๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฟ! (๐๐ ๐๐ฎ)
๐ช๐ฒ'๐ฟ๐ฒ ๐ด๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ฎ ๐๐ต๐ผ๐๐ฒ ๐ถ๐ ๐๐ฝ ๐๐ฎ ๐ฅ๐๐น๐ฒ'๐ ๐ฎ๐๐
[Verse 1: Swifty McVay, 2๐๐ข๐ค]
I'm about to get rid of some hoes, it's simple
I'm quick to murder ink with lead
And I ain't talkin' 'bout a pencil
Look at what the fuck you done got into
I see you found your niche, you just a bitch with a menstrual
Claimin' you a murderer, and you spelt it wrong
You put E before the D because that's all you on
You on Pac's dick (Bitch), you a replica guy
If he was still alive, you would never get by (For real)
All you do is cry, bitch, keep it real
Life is more than imitatin' n***as and eatin' pills (Ha)
And what kind of motherfucker ruins three deals
That another n***a got you? They didn't see skills
And I ain't playin', you a brother gettin' cheated
And Ja Rule be prayin' on his cover, โcause he need it
And all you n***as hatin' (๐จ๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐บ๐ฐ ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ข๐บ) shut your mouths
It's just that real n***as ain't buyin' that shit y'all put out
[Verse 2: Obie Trice]
Do-Re-Mi, but we don't sing, muhfuckas
So Murder Inc, do your thing, muhfuckas
You unleashed on a team
Who expects nothin' less than R&B coming from that regime
"Regime" is a little extreme
Neck and neck with soldiers, muhfuckin' Marines
Ja sold his soul to sing
Weave eye-witness team on the TV screen, chase the greed
Now that you've embraced the green
Don't fuck with the triple beams
You's a motherfuckin' actor, slash Pac impersonating rapper
Slash Billie Holidayโhow it happen?
Artist and repertoire saw him in action
Pac assassination, Def Jam grabbed him
Told him, "Reenact him, you go platinum!"
They seen it for sure, I know that Afeni Shakur
Don't enjoy Jeffrey Atkins reenactin' her boy
So I'm click-clackin' this toy, mash and destroy
Shady slash Aftermath and Detroit, motherfucker
[Chorus: Eminem]
Do-re-mi, fa-so-la-ti-da
Don't blame me โcause you washed up, lost your spot
Mama-say-mama-sa-ma-macosa
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac
Don't hate me, I'm too hot and you're not
Shooting at me, with the only shot you got
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac
You'll get popped poppin' all that shit you pop
[Verse 3: Kuniva]
Now, we can get past the mean mugs and get to the slugs
To the grievance and the crying and the intimate hugs
We don't take you serious, n***a, you shook
You half of a half-way crook, get off X dick, go sing a hook, n***a
And you can't replace the late great one
And when you gone, you only gon' be the late fake one
N***a, please stick to the script
Before the guns, stick to the clip
And Benzino, you ain't shit but a bitch (Bitch)
Fuckin' old-ass, ignorant, innocent-lookin' senior citizen
Built up, slap you like Grimace, all sensitive
Wait a minute, hold on: is it me, or do he look like a banana with braids and clothes on?
A bitch-made man; now, how you gonna connect
With them short ass arms, like a Tyrannosaurus Rex
You n***as can scream, holler and curse
Go ahead, respond and pull that pen and pad up outta your purse
[Verse 4: Proof]
Slim didn't send Proof to get at the wankstas
He told me to let loose and spit at the gangstas
What up, Gotti? And this little war you pushed on
Put your ear to the ground for stepping on bush stones
What's wrong? Didn't think we strong with real n***as?
Roll like a boss in the streets, they still feel us
It's real business, y'all ain't caught the concept
You talking nonsense to walking bomb threats
Contact was blown by Benzetta in The Source
Threaten at the boss, you gon' see me on your porch
Now Irv got the nerve to try to serve on us
But Detroit n***as early and ain't scurred to bust
[Verse 5: Kon Artist]
Word to my n***a Bugz, punks like you get beat up
Stomped unconscious and smacked with the heater
This rap cookie monster get jabbed in the tonsils
With dicks so much that he should be fixed with a vagina
Who's behind ya? Cadillac Pac or that transvestite
That dress like a Lil Kim fox?
You're just like a little windbox
When I press tight on the trigger of this Glock
Now, swallow that little shit you got left to help you eat
You knock Pac's songs without love will help you sleep
You got shot in your video tryna mock Pac
You Mockaveli, get your own identity!
[Chorus: Eminem]
Doe-rae-me, fa-so-la-ti-da
Don't blame me (Don't you never say my little girl's name in a song again) โcause you washed up, lost your spot
Mama-say-mama-sa-ma-macosa (Fuckin' punk-pussy bitch!)
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac (I'll fuck you up, boy!)
Don't hate me, I'm too hot and you're not
Shooting at me (Never! Don't you never in your motherfuckin' life), with the only shot you got
Ja, quit playin', knock it off, you're not 2Pac (Choke the shit out you, you little motherfuckin' midget)
You'll get popped poppin' all that shit you pop (Hailie'll whip your motherfuckin' ass)
[Outro: Obie Trice, ๐๐ ๐๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐๐ข๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฏ]
(๐๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐๐ข๐ฏ๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฏ)
Yeah!
That's right, motherfuckers
Shady Records, what you know about it?
Fuck Benzino!
Fuck Ja Rule!
N***a
This Obie Trice right here talkin' to you motherfuckers
Ja Rule punk ass
Yeah
Fuckin' Soul 4 Real ass
N***a, that's Soul 4 Rea-
That's the n***a from Soul 4 Real!
Candy Rain-ass n***a, he got a deal, now he rappin'
You don't know what's
Faggot-ass motherfuckers
Get money to all my real n***as, man
Obie Trice
D12
G-Unit
50 Cent
Hailie Jade
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
[Outro: Hailie and Eminem]
Daddy, is Ja Rule taller than me?
No, honey, you, guys, are the same size
Ha-ha-ha-ha