Eminem - Desperados

[Intro: Proof]

Yo, ayo, turn the heads up and the mics up

We got the Dreadknaughts, y'knahmsayin?

Super MC, y'knahmean?

Bugz, Dirty and all that

All that shit, y'knahmsayin?

Desperados with the cars — Eminem!

[Verse 1: Eminem]

Chauvinist pig, drove in this big Lincoln

'Til it went over the bridge

Jumped out and dove in the ditch

Broke in a mobile home and stole a stove and a fridge

Kidnapped the parents and left the ransom note for the kids

I'ma go for your mids, here's a body blow for your ribs

While you're clutchin' your stomach

And bleedin' all over your bitch

I know where you live, your girl showed me your crib

Unless she told me a fib, then I'ma have both of you did

Burning incense, facin' a murder sentence

Under intense investigation for killin' infants

While I sit in padded rooms, doin' shrooms

Havin' visions of dead pregnant women

With brooms jabbed in they wombs

Slit your carpet and rugs and fuck your apartment up

Stickin' up arbor drugs, and jumpin' in garbage trucks

I'm from the shitty slums that look like the city dumps

Give you a kidney punch and mug you to get me lunch

See me every summer layin' up against the dumpster

With a hundred dollar jumper, smothered in Southern Comfort

Got my Slim Shady sticker on your mother's bumper

She came home screamin' a bunch of motherfuckers jumped her

[Verse 2: Proof]

Ayo, proceed to list 'em, there's no need to diss 'em

Down here we heat 'em, destroy your whole breathing system

Twist 'em, like beer caps, once they hear that

Rap murder rates, and I snap vertebrates

Collapse further states, my track preserve the great

Your pack deserve a crate: in fact, the word is fate

I'll kill you slow like AIDS-infested nuts

I'm holdin' vendetta like seven great-molested sluts

Callin' me a bitch nigga, you need to stop

Reality, one on one, how many times you got dropped?

I'm cut-throat when any track runs

Conscious when I smack nuns

The rough neck that make Muslims run and pack guns

I'm volcanic, the sermon preacher

Burnin' emcees, most wanted by Herman Kiefer

You tried to get a squad, they was like, "Money, oh no."

Leave you brain-dead, hittin' trees with Sonny Bono

I kick without a dojo, D12 slow flow

Shoot down your mothership and pimp-smack mojo

No pro wanna go knuckle-blades with the renegade

Nigga tried to go pop, and plus they minute-made

My lieutenant sprayed your brigade and trampled your flow

Big P, the reason emcees cancelled they show

The truth will hurt, seein' Proof at work, no shame in it

The best part of your show is when you put my name in it

My squad be godly, fearin' shit hardly

So I hope when I'ma die dope like Chris Farley

[Verse 3: Bugz]

Fuck that! Who run shit once these drums hit?

You dove headfirst into some old dumb shit

Here's a can of asswhip for you to come get

Your click made they trip, I make them hoes suck mint

Ask your girl, they know the scoop: don't fuck with Bugz, bitch!

I'll chop off her titty, have you suckin' one tit

Them pink belly niggas is who you run with

Makin' half-ass songs, shitty snares and one kick

I hate your damn sound, don't like it one bit

You could make a double album, won't have one hit

Your entire outfit is on some bullshit

And there's not a damn one that I can't outwit

I admit that my style is unfit

For Momma's baby boy, because I'm on some dumb shit

Like I commit larceny, give harm quick

You pull the alarm switch, I stab you in your armpit

Now, who the nitwit wanna come get with

This egotistic hip-hop fundamentalistic?

Don't risk it, you get your shit split

Now keep your distance and keep existence

I'm persistent when it comes to bent shit

I smoked a blunt with my judge right before my sentence

I'm relentless, to deny is senseless

Your bitch paid my bill, that's where the hell your rent went

Fuck that!

[Verse 4: Supa Emcee]

I kill competition, with no way out as an opposition

Execute the passengers on the flight, my executive decision

Then reminisce on how Shady the business

Terrorists asked by Israelis when they visit

Bombin' incentive, World War III in the makin'

Murdered the exhibition, team finish, beat the ref senseless

No time-out, extended play burns over your intermission

Then christen the battlefield with the blood of Christians

Cryin' for the Messiah, but he don't listen

I pop my wig when I top the stove frame, boil sizzlin'

A pyromaniac cook, I do damage to kitchens

Fuck Home Depot, I demolition

When I home improve, you need Bob here to fix it

Fuck school and supervision!

Bit off of financial aid and smoked up my tuition

Only hang around rappers with explicit lyrics

And pistol-grip punks for the beefin' — do you wanna get heated?

[Verse 5: Stilla Shellz]

I got a mind full of troubles, everything's in doubles

I buy my guns in couples, no time for placement fumbles

‘Cause emcees come and emcees go, with broke flow

Injured from head to toe, no fitter model, we full-throttle

You stuck in low, incapable to master flow

Everything is tactical, livin' mathematical

I smash the flow, unleash and let go

I shit like lava, original designer

Married to marijuana since a minor

Makin' attempts to sink my battleship

Could get you bent like fibs, what?

Applying death-defying feats, maintain to keep my peace

Flow like the sea when I release these beats over concrete

[Verse 6: 0-1]

My presidented transition has taken place

As I express vocally on the M-I-C-R-O

Power he cipher, not equality, I deal it

Lace the track and made it real, now I know my peoples feel it

Keep their heads bobbin' and the emotionals sobbin'

Plus a culture-cipher after shows, hoes slobbin'

Knobs love the fuckin' flavor of the icin'

Plus I'm precise and my double edge continue slicin'