Karaoké Homicide Logic & Eminem

Son you know why you the greatest alive

'Cos you came out of my balls nigga

Ha ha ha ha ha ha

Roof

Fuck rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic who done had it and he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe

Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Leave a suicide note

Fuck that

Bobby feelin' villainous

He killin' this

I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika

Chika Slim Shady with rabies

I'm foamin' at the mouth

Ain't nobody takin' me out

Every single rapper in the industry yeah they know what I'm about

And I dare you to test me 'cos not a single one of you motherfuckers impress me

And maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration but I'm full of innovation and I'm tired of all of this high school

He's cool, he's not rap shit

Can a single one of you motherfuckers even rap

Shit

No this ain't a diss to the game

This a gas to the flame

Nowadays everybody sound the same

Shit's lame

Like a moth to the flame

Imma reel 'em in and kill 'em

Know you feelin' lyricism when I'm spillin' it

I'm feelin' myself

Yeah yeah Bobby Boy he be feelin' himself

Mass murder like this can't be good for my health

When I rap like this do I sound like shit

Well it don't really matter 'cos I'm killin' this shit

Yeah I'm killin' this shit

Oh yeah oh yeah

I'm killin' this shit

Bobby how many times you been killin' this shit

Find another rhyme

Goddamn nigga shit

Fuck rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic who done had it and he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe

Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Leave a suicide note

Fuck that

Bobby feelin' villainous

He killin' this

I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika

Chika-chika-chika-chika

Chika-chika-chika Slim Shady

There's nowhere to hide

We call this shit genocide

Hit 'em with that and they die

We gon' leave 'em crucified

We call this shit genocide

I got bitches, I got hoes

I got rare designer clothes

No we ain't fuckin' with that

Yeah there's a time and a place but if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps

Callin' yourself the greatest alive then you don't deserve to do that

No no oh no no please do not do that

You gon' get smacked

You gon' make Bobby attack

You gon' make Bobby Boy snap

You gon' make Bobby Boy snap

Bobby Boy

Fuck rap

Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic who done had it and he ready for anybody to buck back

Hold up, catch a vibe

Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive

Leave a suicide note

Fuck that

Bobby feelin' villainous

He killin' this

I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby

I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika

Chika-chika-chika-chika

Chika-chika-chika Slim Shady

Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga

Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika

Jigga like JAY-Z

Jig is up

You fuckers who didn't write anything are gettin' washed like bathin'

Young Hova

I know hitters like Yankees

Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy

Unloadin'

Leave you shot up in your Rover

Your body goes limp and slumps over

Like A-Rod in a month lull but he just homered

Hold up I said

Rover because now your Rover is red

Like Red Rover so you know what I meant

But I roll over my opponents instead

Makin' dog sounds 'cos I gotta keep breakin' these bars down

I'll go slow for the speds

But when I go like the Dobermann said

I still think the would go over your head

Beast mode

Motherfuckers 'bout to get hit with so many foul lines you'll think I'm a free throw

Figured it was about time for people to eat crow

You about to get out-rhymed

How could I be dethroned

I stay on my toes like the repo

A behemoth in sheep's clothes

From the East Coast to the West

I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T.

Who the best

I don't gotta say a fuckin' thing though 'cos MCs know

But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts

Your shit is ass like a tailbone or you're trapped in your cell phone

Or my chicken scratch or my self-loathe

I don't wanna fuckin' listen to you spit your raps someone else wrote

Used to get beat up by the big kids

Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel

And I wouldn't do shit but just sit still

Now money's not a big deal

I'm rich

I wipe my ass with six mill'

Big bills like a platypus

A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis

I'm lookin' for the smoke but you motherfuckers are scatterin'

Batterin' everything and

I've had it with the inadequate

Man I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin

And I'm bringin' the bandana back and the fuckin' headband again

A handkerchief and I'm thinkin' of bringin' the fuckin' fingerless gloves back

And not givin' a singular fuck like fuck rap

I sound like a fuckin' millionaire with a Derringer with a hair trigger 'bout to bear hug a fuckin' terrier

The Ric Flair dripper

Y'all couldn't hold a candle at a prayer vigil

When I vent they compare me to a fuckin' air duct

I'm 'bout to bare-knuckle it

Nah fuck it I'm gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket

Abraca-fuckin'-dabra

The track is the blood

I'm attracted, I'm attackin' it

What, Dracula, fuck that shit

I'm up, back with a thud

Man stop