[Intro: Eminem] Haha, Swifty McVay! Mr. Porter, the Kon Artis (ha!) I told you we wasn't leavin, c'mon! [Verse 1: Swifty McVay] I come from a jungle, with a trunk load of punk hoes (n***a) Muzzle this animal, f** with mechanical Gun totin hazardous cutthroat, canteloupe can split it And the Pope couldn't prevent me from sh**tin on n***as Fitted caps get blew back like bad wind, imagine backspinnin Into a casket, it happens when ba*tards try to act masculine (ho) A hell raiser, I smack the skin off your man's face So fast it'll leave acne on my hand when it land (hah!) Placed in a cla** where professors came to school with Smith 'n Wessons Just to teach us a lesson, had that a** hangin up with the flag (yeah) Parental discretion, I'll send you a video With me naked havin a session on my urinal (RESPECT IT! HAH!) When you k** in the nighttime and claimin yo' innocence I'll be waitin ready to A.K. you and yo' egg Bene-dick {AHH!} Usin yo' balls to play tennis with (hah) You'll be in some sh** like flies and f** the witnesses [Hook: Swifty McVay] (MOTHERfu*k!) n***as that doubt and thought we wasn't k**in sh** (WHAT!) Whatever you want, we providin it diligently (PUMP!) Double barrel wherever we go willingly (DUMPIN!) On opposition in the streets or industry (MOTHERfu*k!) n***as that doubt and thought we wasn't k**in sh** (WHAT!) Whatever you want, we providin it diligently (PUMP!) Double barrel wherever we go willingly (DUMPIN!) On opposition in the streets or industry [Verse 3: Kon Artis] You was born I was hatched, but you came out deformed I have nuts of a horse, and you ain't got no balls Come runnin with tec-9's whenever n***as would call Bang-bang-bang, bang-bang, shoot up cla**way halls I don't give a fu*k, who you call to come You came with thirty n***as, I only came with one That just goes to show you how much scrap a n***a got in me You gone off Henny, that liquid courage drivin you into these Situations you in, don't get that "Purple Pills" sh** confused With us bein cool up here singin "My Band" I'm sure you see these little kids cryin over me man They'll do anything for a f**in autograph So say that sh** loud enough out of the f**in crowd and I'll show you the meanin of die-hard fans Saddam Hussein who sews, who radical act A mechanical bomb attached to my pelvis That's what I mean by get, back; I mean get, back Or find your head detached from that Mitchell & Ness So find your spinal cord, uh-uh-oh I digress I guess I'm just too fresh, to finish that line Denaun's ain't next [Hook]