[Intro: Big Trigger]

Yea Ya'll know what it is

Rap City presents Em360

Slaughterhouse, Eminem, Big Tigg, Just Blaze!

On the 1s and 2s, oh-oh

[Intro: Eminem]

Yo Tigg, get in the not booth

And spit the truth, to the young youth

[Verse 1: Big Trigger]

Aight, ay, Amex don't leave home without your cards

But this Hip Hop, so don't leave home without your bars

And for some of these rap stars, that's just too bad

Cause you can't bring out them bars, that you ain't never had

It's Eminem and Slaughterhouse, yeah you know we the truth

And ohh the game is out of order, since we closed the booth

Yes indeed original, beats the replacement cause

The back room will never be what the basement was

[Verse 2: Joe Budden]

I'm the realest mo'fucker that I know

Wasn't always the case guess the figure had to grow

I do it for the love I don't do it for the dough

But I know these sucker figures will so they keep me on my toes

What's sad is I couldn't tell you what I'm hated for

And them painkillers didn't murder the pain they gave me more

These fans on my head now they say they want the old Joe

I grew up mature y'all can't see that this the old Joe

Want to see me lose every battle of depression

No matter what it do to me, no matter my regression

They want to see me fall, want to ruin my regiment from the start

Want to cut the beat off soon as I let em in my heart

I'd be the first to admit it, lost focus for a while

Sendin' unsolicited dick pics to dimwitted thick chicks

Was so high I lost track of my ways

Then I fell in love with a baby and got mad at her age

The way she act and behave, was it an act or a phase

How you trife when I gave you life

You was lacking in wage

You don't want say hi or speak to me

Bet you makin 200 dollars by weekly

Try to help the world out, bring some reparation

And forget being humble in a state of desperation

Ain't gotta ask what to help with no hesitation

And for me to deal with it I might need some meditation

I love you but its best we stay apart, segregation

And to cope with the feeling I might need some medication

Trust me I don't never want to see that side of Joe

It would kill us all slow, one reason I'm the realest mother-mother I know

[Verse 3: Royce da 5'9]

Its Nickle, riding round in that Maserati four seat

Symbol on the grill looking like Tony Stark's goatee

Best rapper alive and you know me

The most distinguished shooter that's coming up out of the D since Joe D

I take mines at lead point

At the risk of having to shave my garlic clove in a razor inside a fed joint

Hip hop is alive, but the rhymes died

Only fear I have is "world star" being yelled from my blind side

Don't get me wrong it ain't like I ain't never lost a fight

But these days I'm more like a lyrical artiste

I'm outlining everybody in chalk white

The off-beat deceased version of Dr. Narcisse

This ain't blueprint, your idolizing

You tryna jump fast that's foolish of you in my drunk past and handing me my pilot's license

That's plain stupid, your boy's a star

Sitting in that drop top fish bowl and the doors ajar

It's ironic I remember when I couldn't afford a car

And now it's back and forth

The black one or white one I call 'em Macklemore

And Lord Jamar, first we defyin' the odds

We not a group, we more like a circular firing squad

This not a booth, this is our house and we won't stop

We killed the cypher two times already

What you gon' give us an award

But we won't stop for shutting down the internet

Now tell ya momma hi, and tell Rihanna we ain't finished yet

[Verse 4: Joell Ortiz]

When we step in that booth, that's when the flame enters

Best spit, make any set trip, yeah its the gang members

Waving that shady flag, navy jag

Matching the yank' fit, with the polo brief showing, due to the lazy sag

I'm in a crazy kind of place

I got this thing right on my waist that'll leave tears on your baby mommas face

So chill, I'm in a crazy kind of place, I got this thing below my waist

That'll leave kids on your baby mommas face, for real

The flow gets cracked, as it came in capsules

Your cap just started snapping

My starter caps was snapping

When cross color was cracking

And my cane was half full

With the half moon park, hope you rap dudes smart

Don't piss me off like the bathroom mop

You don't want it with me

If I'm throwing hooks at you, that don't mean the chorus for free

So save your jabs its way better

If I start throwing jabs I'm talking Zabs first three round against Mayweather

Yeah I'm a crook from the brook, that mastered how niggas shook turned notebook

Broke cook, I'm so dope look

Bring the beat back with no hook just bars

Just a thing of ours that make their pants drop, make em open up their bras

Move g-strings like guitars, that's nothing, that's something light

Like Riesling at the bar

Y-A-O-W-A, if y'all ain't saying Yaowa by now you got nothing to say

This like NWO vs NWA, y'all like the rockers versus the ROC

Full of nothing but Jays

Check the rocks its nothing fugaz'

But don't get stupid my Cooper clique will throw shots for a couple of days

Make it horny when we out, Amityville horror, y'all don't want it with the house

[Verse 5: Crooked I]

Slaughter season, y'all the reason

Real dudes I'm bringing some more in

Like a Polynesian

Sick with the llama squeezing

Bullets flew and the chopper sneezing

Got your body and legs torn, but before you was airborne

You was bob and weaving still getting hit till your nos' is weezing

They set you deep in your coffin sleeping

I'm gone off the deep end, I'm a wolf, this industry my sheep skin

I'm out here hunting with my ink pen

I'm living like a kingpin

Doing it for my g's in the pen

Dreaming about two-piecing a police chief's chin

You rappers something candy coated, I don't like suckers

I'm Iron Mike, I don't like Busters

You looking for em' fly dudes like Orville and Wilbur

You got the Wright brothers

No bright jeans, no bright colors

I'm the second coming, the one that Pac predicted

Islamic, Gnostic and Christian, the flow so godly you got to listen

I backed you in a dodge a minute

Like MC Eiht in a L.A. hat, these rappers straight tryna dodge a menace

I'm looking at your videos, look like your watching tennis

Brothers dressed like Maria Sharapova wearing yoga pants

Meanwhile Big Poppa was rocking linens

I guess that era's over man, hold on

I'm splitting atoms when the scientific spitting is getting at em'

I give em' different patterns, they didn't fathom, they stealing my styles

Before me you didn't have em'

You rappers made in my image like when God was inventing Adam

Stab em in the abdomen when its crunch time

I truly flip like Mayweather pissed of at a movie script

Too many punchlines

Family I'm amongst mine

I keep the peace like a monks mind

.357 fade your favorite barber

Leave you in an old bush like an unshaven Barbara

Don't stop what we doing

When you see L.A. your team will be ruined

This game need a new villain, I'm the kind to murder you on vine, ooh kill em'

[Introduction: Big Trigger]

Ladies and gentlemen

Now introducing the man, the myth, the legend

Mister Marshall Mathers AKA (chicka-chicka) Slim Shady

[Verse 6: Eminem]

Ayo, can we cut this beat off?

I might need to do this acapella, yo

Role model?

I'll roll a model down a hill over broke bottles of Coke products

If she don't swallow, and tie her to the bumper, hit the throttle

While I'm tryna hit the potholes, I'll freaking take Madonna to McDonalds

Any ho'll end up horizontal gettin' fondled, I don't cuddle, I don't coddle

Only motto that I follow's everything I drive, whether it's a Navajo or a Tahoe

It's got a ho in it

Nah, ho, I don't got no freaking bronco

You looking for a buck, get a horse, fuck Tonto

I got a rusty Hondo with some bondo

And a box of condoms, little blond ho

Fuck me? Fuck you too, like I'm at Bonnaroo booing Bono

And I ain't from this planet so nanu, nana, nanu

I'm intolerable, too volatile, screw it

I don't gotta make the honor roll to be on a roll

I don't know much, what I do know I do it pronto though

So knock it off, all these knock-off-me's,

The last thing the world needs is another me

But if you think this is part two to Recovery

Or "Love the Way You Lie" part twelve

Or something heart felt, you 'bout to make a discovery

Like you found Christopher Columbus' compass

Ain't dumbing shit down for you dumb motherfuckers, so suck it

I took your best punchline like a punch in the stomach

That punctured a lung, punk, and I'm still functioning from it

Chump

It was nothing

Now watch while I fuckin' one up it and toot my own horn

Once I think of something to trump it

And I don't need a fucking instrument to sound off

Like the trunk of an elephant; the triumphant

Return of the ether spitting retard, reborn

But chances of you having another re-birth, slim to none

Like a skinny Mother Teresa, give a fuck if it's Easter, so kiss my keister

'Cause that's the only thing I'll turn the other cheek for