[Intro: Eminem]

Nah, we ain't done!

[Verse 1: Eminem]

I love being hated, it's great, it lets me know that I made it

I wouldn't have it no other way, I wouldn't trade it for the world

Only lets me know that I'm loved

By so many other motherfuckers that ain't you, and it's bugged

'Cause you keep fucking with us, we keep fucking you up

And keep pulling the rug from up under you

And what’s even more fucked up, is we enjoy what we're doing

So much there ain't nothing that we love more than "Pulling Your Skirts Up"

And exposing you hoes so much, people are starting to wonder

What's up with them fucking Wonder Woman underoos?

Do unto others as you will have done unto you

So who the fuck you motherfuckers gonna run to

When someone runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you?

You gon' ask yourself, how come your mans

Didn't empty that last round that he had in Curtis Jackson's ass while he had the chance?

You keep asking us to keep it on wax but we can't

This is past any rationalization

We have captured national media attention

Conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension start building

Soon as we enter the 106 & Park building

Someone's gonna get killed and I swear to God

If someone so much as even touches one of my people

I'll put a million on his head

And you ain't got the funds to match or counteract it

But I'd rather rap than get into this gangsta shit

And it ain't because I'm a bitch

It's because I ain't a bitch, I don't endanger people that I'm with

I'm a general, I ain't Bush, I don't send my soldiers to war

If I ain't there in the middle of the shit with 'em, so when I do get 'em

Orders to storm your headquarters, you'll be fucking with a

[Verse 2: Swifty McVay]

Fucking with a beef keeper, see you ain't eager to greet this lyrical meat cleaver

That'll eat ya, niggas wanna keep speaking

Like it ain't even that deep

I got heat that'll sweep a nigga's street

See I wouldn't fuck with me neither, only heaven can help ya

I'll be searching for you longer than The Legend of Zelda

Without a failure, there's gonna be hell to tell the

Captain that a basset hound couldn't even smell ya

Body, when I hide ya, I be on that mob shit

You another Hoffa, under the Renaissance, bitch!

You get bombed like Lebanon with my own tactic

I snatch your head like one of Saddam's kids

[Verse 3: Obie Trice]

Motherfucker, I'll handle you, we can have it out on any avenue

An "Average Man" flipped into an animal

Shoot out your mandibles, cannons and ammunition

Reload with precision, nigga, know the mechanicals

Break the pistol down, you should see them handles

The street taught the child, no read up manuals

Pushing crack vows, young Nino Brown

Chasing green is the dream, when you're young and brown

Bound to be a problem child, look what I'm involved in now

A 'Dozen Dirty' niggas and they all get down

Resolve any problem that enlarge with ours

When revolvers we said "all men get down"

(Kuniva!)

[Verse 4: Kuniva]

While you're punching and tackling punks

I'm handling chumps, packing a pump

That's longer than the elephant trunk

On the streets I'm a beast, I feast upon the weak

So speak beef, I'll shoot you and scream "increase the peace"

A monster, pistol packing, pushing niggas off they Hondas

Stomp you, get it cracking, yanking bitches for they ganja

Sneaky as fuck, I don't think mama beat me enough

When she was sleeping stuff, I was stealing the keys to the truck

Shut the fuck up! Before you end up dead in the dump truck

Or in the streets taking a nap, bleeding and lugged up

"Who Want What?" like M. Bleek, with this heat if you ten deep

Then fuck it, it will be ten sleeping

[Verse 5: Proof]

The muscle of Meyer Lansky, don't tussle with my hand speed

Clutch your burner, bust it and watch your man bleed

We ferocious, toast no holsters

Approach us, throw heat straight from the shoulders

We the soldiers, y'all the youngsters (ha)

Youngsters lungs puncture, dead in a dumpster

Fed to the monsters, head full of trauma

You scared of the drama, bombered the monster (Poof!)

I'm back, nigga (Poof!), I reappear

Shoot like *Explosion*, you ain't seein' clear

Blackness, carcass covered with catfish

We murkers with no purpose other than practice

(Bizzy!)

[Verse 6: Bizarre]

There's three things I hate: liars, fakes, and cheaters

Alcoholics, sluts, and fucking wife beaters

I guess that describes my life

I don't even know who song this is (Obie Trice)

Bitch, Bizarre don't give a fuck about no hip hop

At my release party in a pink tank top and Reeboks

This Ja Rule beef I ain't getting in

I'll need an R&B singer to sing at my wedding

I'll turn your face into a fucking meat patty

I'll fuck your mommy and go fishing with your granny

I'll Shit on You, I'll pee on R. Kelly, too

This is Bizarre, see you "Devil's Night 2"