Proof - Desperados lyrics

[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 sh**, 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 clutching your stomach And bleeding all over your b**h 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, facing a murder sentence Under intense investigation for k**ing infants While I sit in padded rooms doing shrooms Having visions of dead pregnant women With brooms jabbed in they wombs Slit your carpet and rugs and f** your apartment up Sticking up arbor d** And jumping in garbage trucks I'm from the sh**ty slums that look like the city dumps Give you a kidney punch And mug you to get me lunch See me every summer laying 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 screaming A bunch of motherf**ers 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 k** you slow, like AIDS-infested nuts I'm holding vendetta, like seven great-molested s*uts Calling me a b**h n***a, 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 m**ms run and pack guns I'm volcanic, the sermon preacher Burning emcees, most wanted by Herman Kiefer You tried to get a squad, they was like, "Money, oh no." Leave you brain-dead, hitting 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 n***a 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, seeing 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, fearing sh** hardly So I hope when I'ma die dope, like Chris Farley [Verse 3: Bugz] f** that! Who run sh** once these drums hit? You dove headfirst into some old dumb sh** Here's a can of a**whip for you to come get Your click made they trip, I make them hoes s** mint Ask your girl, they know the scoop Don't f** with Bugz, b**h! I'll chop off her titty, have you s**ing one tit Them pink belly n***as is who you run with Making half-a** songs, sh**ty 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 bullsh** 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 sh** 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 wit This egotistic hip-hop fundamentalistic? Don't risk it, you get your sh** split Now keep your distance, and keep existence I'm persistent when it comes to bent sh** I smoked a blunt with my judge right before my sentence I'm relentless, to deny is senseless Your b**h paid my bill That's where the hell your rent went; f** that! [Verse 4: Supa Emcee] I k** competition, with no way out as an opposition Execute the pa**engers on the flight, my executive decision Then reminisce on how Shady the business Terrorists asked by Iraelis when they visit Bombing incentive, World War 3 in the making Murdered the exhibition, team finish, beat the ref senseless No timeout, extended play burns over your intermission Then christen the battlefield with the blood of Christians Crying 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 f** Home Depot, I demolition When I home improve you need Bob here to fix it f** 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, living mathematical I smash the flow, unleash and let go I sh** like lava, original designer Married to marijuana since a minor Making attempts to sink my battleship Could get you bent like fibs, what? Applying d**h-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 f**ing flavor of the icin' Plus I'm precise and, my double edge continue slicin'