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(Feat. Bad Meets Evil) (Chainsaw revving) Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha (Eminem) Got a shit-eatin' grin Bitch, show me them itty-bitty titties again We're in Sin City Since when did we begin to get 'dicted to dope Diggity, bitch, you need to run And go get your frigity-friends I'm lookin' at your bum-stickity-bum, hun The mickity mack's bickity back, don't act wickity-wack You can get the fickity-finger; the middle You little dizzy bitch, sit and spig-a-tee-spin Got a 6 o'clock cravin', stop, get Ciroc It's 'bout to be an unbelievable night I called it surreal, Sir Mix-a-Lot tape in Hit the spot, spot my next victim I'm picky like I missed a spot shavin' Came to sip vodka, shit Yeah, that little chick is hot but if she got rabies I wouldn't give the bitch a shot, I'd poke her in the rear But I bet if I licked her, she'd try to chase me (Ha-ha) What are you: pit, rott, mixed? Or you just got fixed, well, shit, then let's lip-lock If not, then chicks, piss off, you snobby little pig snot nose You think you're hot shit cause you're in heat Well, bitch, if you're solar, then I'm your polar opposite, dog Cause I'm colder than popsicle sticks, poppin' shit Talkin' it, walkin' it, spit boxin' My sick thoughts are 'bout to lick shots Like this shit's hoppin' And drip-droppin' in chocolatey whip-toppin' So whether you're hip-hop, Slipknot, B. I. G., Pac Kid Rock, Kris Kross, Rick Ross, you'll dig this If not, then kick rocks in flip flops And I produced the track So you don't have to ask who it is When this shit knocks (Turn up!) So bring clairvoyance to this bangin' And I'm a keep on sayin' All the shit I should be hung for And probably killed for sayin' And I probably will, but not until the day I pop a pill again Like choppin' 'til I'm droppin' Still if that don't do the job of killin' Shady Then the karma will They sayin' I must bring it as Mohammad Until the Parkinson's done eat away my brain And made me Robin Williams crazy Or I end up with dementia, but you rockin' with a sadist Hate to say this, but if the thought is entertainin' I ain't stoppin' till we sprayed it Oh my god, for real man, not again I'm shakin' But before I tie a rope around this nob If they don't like it, got a knob that they can slob on until Wait, I just forgot what I was thinkin' What's it called again? I'm blankin' The thing above the balls between my legs And I think I can feel it dangling It's throbbing and it's veiny Wait, I think I got it, okay, bitch I got you Robin Williams hangin' Go hang in the lobby unless you came to slob me Come on kemosabe It's past time, like your favorite hobby Cause if the way that I spit shit remains on my dick Then she grab me by the nuts And tried to take my sausage as a hostage Ain't it obvious? Pretty much a no brainer Or should I say Cobainer? That she's plain addicted to my dick like Lorena Bobbit Gotta wean her off it, weiner off it Like she took my fucking penis, chopped it And stuck it up between her armpits And she begun to swing a crumpet knife And paint the carpet, at least That's what her train of thought is Cause I came, saw, conquered, hit it, quit it And made up a plate of bonkers And I always end up giving these bitches some complex And I don't mean apartment So spread your feet apart And let me see you do some yoga stretches, splits Now grab this Cuisinart And make me breakfast, bitch, that's a prerequisite And that's just to get in this bedroom, bitch Walked up to that Ke$ha chick (what up?) Said my name is Booger, wanna catch a flick? I'll even let you pick, make her fetch a stick Bet you if you get this old dog these new tricks To get familiar with I'll learn extra quick Kick a pregnant bitch, oops, I guess the shit Took an unexpected twist Like the neck of the freaking exorcist Cha-cha-cha Bitch, I said that this mask ain't for hockey Hate Versace, Versace, I got Münchhausen by proxy I'm making you sick, don't pretend you can't hear me You deaf, girl, I said you was foxy I'll tell a bitch like Bizarre Bitch, shut the fuck up and get in my car And suck my fucking dick while I take a shit And I think with my dick so come blow my mind And it tastes like humble pie So swallow my pride, you're lucky just to follow my ride If I let you run alongside the Humvee Unless you're Nicki, grab you by the wrist, let's ski So what's it gon' be? Put that shit away Iggy You gon' blow that rape whistle on me (Squee!) I love it Fore I get lost with the gettin' off Like this is our exit, now lets hit the highway And try not to get lost Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'till tomorrow) Vegas Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'till tomorrow) Vegas 'Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'till tomorrow) Vegas 'Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'till tomorrow) Vegas Whatever happens here, stays here So let's go all the way dear Til we get to Las Vegas (Royce da 5, 9) Whatever happens in my room It stays in my room like movie night like cable Treat every women in my stable like flavors Looking like she kryptonite and I get weak after like 7 days In 7 nights in the Days Inn, it's Hot Vegas We roll in circles and packs, we the lifesavers She got a boyfriend, I got a toy then I'll bring it with me when I show up to her crib waving And I ain't tryna meet a nice neighbor I'm so Jay Electronic, I'm cut like I'm all out of razors And all I got is a gun left with a bayonet on it Neck so frozen it look like I walked in a jewelry store With a about a million dollars with your mama And sat down did an ALS challenge, haan I stole that adlib from French, Bad & Evil back at it again About to get my back tatted again About to get a pic of a backstabber with an axe in his hand Sitting on a bike in the sand If you ain't been through nothing Then that shouldn't mean nothing to you Like likes on the Gram If she current I keep her pussy Purring like the pipes on a Lamb Weed got her so chinky eyed Look like she been getting high on a flight to Japan I keep my jewelry on while I'm fucking Sound like I'm shaking up dice in a can Listen, though this ain't Christmas I make you my ex miss If this is my passion I learn to give those who don't appreciate my presence The gift of my absence I don't know who you been listening to Got me fucked up like Pookie in the chicken coop Bitch, I don't give a two shits Bitch, get the fuck out of my face To make a long story short, I don't really gotta stand there And listen to you while you throw a silly tantrum Even though I have an affinity for a witty banter Starting to feel like foulplay like Billy Laimbeer Hold up, she misunderstood me I said saint, por favor Thought I said the Wraith had four doors I knock a nigga face off Give him the bottom of the nine Like a baseball scoreboard (whatever...) I leave the club with my tab still open Won't even get a cab for you and your friend The only fear I have is of loathing And I won't even kick in 'till we get to Las Vegas [Eminem] (Party, do it 'till tomorrow) Vegas Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'till tomorrow) Vegas Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'till tomorrow) Vegas Till we get to Las Vegas (Party, do it 'till tomorrow) Vegas Whatever happens here, stays here So let's go all the way dear Til we get to Las Vegas
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