[Hook] - x2
Now what you know about a sweet MC from the 313?
None of these sk**s you 'bout to see come free
So you wanna be a sweet MC, you gotta become me
If you ever wanna be one, see
[Verse 1: Eye-Kyu]
Yo, some people say I'm whack, now if that's right I'm the freshest whack MC that you ever heard in your lifetime
My slick acapella sounds clever with the beats
Boy I'm the deepest thing since potholes to ever hit the streets
Forget a gold digger's succubus
My soul's thick with ruggedness
With the mic I'm like a dyke; can't no n***a f** with this
I got more different strokes than Philip Drummound
On open mic I bone your women just to keep my lyrics coming
We elevated to new heights, premeditated
Let it be that I stated
They hate it now that they see that I made it
The escalated can be put to the test of greatness
Snatch the heart from MC's and I ate it, so I take it
That's the reason I'm hated, to represent's my temperament
If rap was a dick all you so called hard MC's would not be impotent, but pimping it
And acting like you could rock a show
Harder than LL's Rock the Bells, but yous a hoe
Everything that you collaborate I lacerate
My rhymes they keep coming
Like nymphomaniacs that masturbate
At a faster rate, yeah, I got something for your a** to hate
I blast your hate, and have you all running master gates
And as for face clutching and touching the flows
I got them open like marijuana smoke up in your nose
Buckin' these hoes, I got that sh** down to a science
Leaving them hot and bothered, turned on, like an appliance
Defiance? No, we won't have that
You want your sh** to blow up?
Well, I'ma stuff some dynamite in your a** crack
And blast that sh** to kingdom come
Then bring them some of this real hip-hop
I drop beats and you ain't singing or gonna do a thing but run
And you all knew from Meeko, that you couldn't hold your own with the strength of Lou Ferrigno
So stop that bullsh** and flow, yo
You need to come with the real sk**s and act like you know
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Eminem]
So what you know about a sweet MC in the 313?
You don't know sh** so when you see one flee
You can be Run-D, you'll never be the MC
I stopped the alphabet at S and got it down to a T
I'm sure you're bound to agree, a sweet MC crash the spot
I'll make the roof hot like I was Rock Master Scott
Your a** forgot, so just in case you don't remember me
I'll run your brain around the block to jog your f**ing memory
It's either them or me, man, k** or be k**ed
You will will be sealed
Your casket closed, you still will be billed
My facilities filled with fans, packed to capacity
I'll send a rapper back with the crack of his a** sh**ty
If he's acting soft and he cowers
He better come cleaner then Jeru jacking off when he showers
You flowers got no clout with a thing
You could date a stick of dynamite
And wouldn't go out with a bang
I shout with a slang, simple as ABC's
Skip over the D's and rock the microphone with ease
Dethrone MC's, and I'ma max alone
Relax your dome like a solo from a saxophone
So facts are known, biters get treated with shots
I rock a beat harder than you could beat it with rocks
I'm greeted with flocks of fellow followers' singers
You couldn't make the fans throw up their hands
If they swallowed their fingers
But you can bring yours, let's see what you got
But don't front, and never try to be what you're not
Cause you can be quick, jump the candlestick, burn your back
And f** Jill on a hill, but you still ain't Jack
[Hook]