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Eminem a.k.a. Slim Shady » » 2.0 Boys - Eminem feat. Slaughterhouse & Yelawolf
2.0 Boys - Eminem feat. Slaughterhouse & Yelawolf
Told you

(Royce da 59″)
[1 Verse]:
Ryans a homicidal misfit
I write the solution to biophysics
On the side of a cliff in some hieroglyphics
This my admission to having violent psychotic
Quick devour polish it, politics
By the way Im higher than the Eiffel Tower tip
I like writin, but I will stick this pencil in your ass before I bite your shit
Pause, inhalin hella kush
Us and Yelawolf like a heavy foot gas pedal push
Felons, crooks, goin door-to-door like we sellin books
Dolly Parton style, melons mushed
Now my bitch a dancer, Im bout as sick as cancer
If you could swallow my style, youd probly rip your pants off
If you could bottle my style and sell it to somebody
It problyll smell like cologne made out of bits of panther
They call me Anchorman, I hold down the ship
Leave you niggas floatin in water, then go and drown a fish
Fuck, Im fuckin heinous, I make you fuckin famous
Them lead showers is comin, fuck is you sayin?

[2 Verse]:
Fuck, its fuckin rainin! Shit, theres lightning!
Bitch, its thunderin, cause Im hustlin up a storm if you wonderin
Shit (Shit), you couldnt muster up enough thought
To take a dump during a brain fart, jump if you want
Urine in your face, all you had to do was say
That you wish you wouldve just stayed pissed off in the first place
We came to monopolize the game, Illuminati is here
Yeah, human oddities, at odds with us, your squads gotta be
Cause we started out cold in a snowball, we froze
Soon as we rolled up on these hoes, alls we know
Is yall lowered like bar like limbo, you know who you are
So quit fuckin the dog fore we start callin you bizarre
Shit, screw the pooch? Yall done raped a pit bull
Fell in love with the shih-tzu, this missiles directed directly at you
And this for these hoes who dont know me from a can of paint
You must be huffin, fuck a ballsack, if the taints caint
Take you on a date, you mistake me for a gentleman
You 2000 and late, man, and Will I aint, Im the bad guy
Type of guy thatll drag five girls up on stage
Pour ice in their pants, and the first one who pees gets a black eye

Must be outta your mind, you think you fuckin with us
Suck on these nuts, bitch, hang it up, this game is over

(Joell Ortiz)
[3 Verse]:
Puffin loosies, watchin I Love Lucy with Gary Busey
(Crazy!) How the fuck could you son me? (Im Shady!)
Will there ever come a day when they could slay me?
I dont know, fifth month, black and yellow insect, maybe
Til then I kill the bad man tryna slay me
Everything you kick weak, your spit kung fugazi (Hi-ya!)
All my homeboys, 2.0 Boys
Nickle, I just picked up a Phantom, look how it rolls, Royce!
Even if I wanted to quit, I aint got no choice
Verses keep comin, I should invoice my own voice
You should see the kind of asses that my pole hoist
Hoes be like diamonds in your chain, man, so moist
Bang bang, bang bang, House Gang, chainsaw
Here to kill you pussies, dont ask what we came for
I write til my right arm veins sore
Forearm feel like Thors arm in a gang war
You hear that (YAOWA), you know who finna file out
Definitively finish you, my fist stick out that eyeball
Piranha mentality wit a Jaws bite all night
Comin up, never saw light, but never lost sight

(Joe Budden)
[4 Verse]:
Jets and movers, cesspoolers, meth abusers
You step to us, text Rugers to respect the shooters
My men think in sync, roll with the best crew
Move to the beat of the same drum without Lex Luger
Welcome to Nayhood, big in the jects, G
Cheated death multiple times without riggin the deck
So Im well-prepped if you just want war
Therell be blood everywhere, you be layin on the Louboutin floor
Its raw, you keepin actin like you dont know Mouse, nigga
And you gon need the best doctors, House, nigga
Guard your jewels and avoid large tools
Cause after I spill you at the light, you be in a car pool
Keep your distance from idiots, cause the truth told
They food for thoughts rotten, they gems are fools gold
Need results from my actions, mistakes Ill exonerate
Im Martin King starin at a picture of Obamas face
Talkin funds, niggas aint never seen stock
I dont need the key to the game, I pick a mean lock

Must be outta your mind, you think you fuckin with us
Suck on these nuts, bitch, hang it up, this game is over

(Crooked I)
[5 Verse]:
You invited inside of the mind of a psychotic rhymer
Im kind of a (Dahmer!), Im grindin up rappers
Im linin up jackers, Im climbin up ladders
I buy enough clappers to retire you factors, fire at drama
You liars and actors, Im the genuine article
But read me wrong, get my gun and split you to particles
(The gold hand) Tell me when and Im there
Not only heir to the throne, but my chair is suspended in air
Stay fly like a limited fare
You got us pegged wrong, my circle dont fit in with squares
I smell shit and piss, know where its comin from
You stepped on number two just to be number one
Now Ima step on you, bring it to yo yard
Bogart for arts, we go hard
You frauds just blow hard like broads, I coast guard the west
Im Mozart, I compose dark shit with no heart

[6 Verse]
I got no Jim Beam in the liver
Gettin head like clean clippers, wit haters on my dick like a jeans zipper
When I throw up 16s like I drink liqour
You think you seen sick? Well, bitch, you aint seen sicker
Then Ill crack, and then Ill hop around in a hospital gown
Poppin the trunk, my pumper stay cockin the round
I shit logs and I piss river brown
Cause I drink creek water and spit the river Nile
And thats as close as I get to a pyramid
Shit, they think Im Illuminati, so fuckin ignorant
Sick with a grin, here with this pen, so innocent
But when you win, they say you a sin, but in the end
They jump on the bandwagon and dance to the band playin
Skinny-ass pants saggin, its only yourself you playin
Call me a clown, but you love where the clowns hangin
And the freakshows at the county carnival, then you payin
Bitch, Im on a trapeze with no legs in the dark
Yellin Go Shady! Drivin slower than an old lady
In an old 89, no piece if you pay me
Gimme peace sign on my grill, no Mercedes
Im gettin paid for these shows that I throw lately
Same shows a year ago woulda broken most of you crazies
They call me crazy cause I made it
Bitch, you crazy cause you quit, look at my clique lately
You aint fuckin wit Budden, you aint got no choice with Royce
You dont wanna see the Crooked I, well, listen to Ortiz voice
That dirt road hit the 8 Mile, the Point-Oh Boys
And if Marshall want me to clap, then, homie, I deploy
Game over


(Yo, I dont think they heard you, tell em again)

Game over
  • : 3

  •  (: 0)
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  • : 2 2011 21:00
  • : 6.03.2010
  • 1
  • : 2 2011 21:33
  • : 13.01.2011
  • 2
soglashusi na visote on..i Yelafolw toje norm..Royce krut kak vsegda thumbsup


  • : 17 2011 13:48
  • : 8.02.2011
  • 3
, -!!...

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