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Eminem
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10, 9, 8...
Wahoo, guess who's back?
Mommy, we're home
Say hello to my little friends
DJ Muggs, Soul Assassins, Cypress Hill
Everybody, put your hands where my eyes can see
Everywhere we go people know that we roll deep as fuck
Fourty fifty Samoans, they knowing when D-Bo was 50
Tweezy, Obie there won't be no hoe in us
They pop shit like they gon do shit but no one does
From New York down to Texas, back up to Los Angeles
We've changed the way we move so man up if you can't adjust
You may end up getting rushed by too many to handle us
It's funny, I guess money does have its advantages
And it isn't that we just think that we can't be touched
It's not like we're just feeling ourselves that much
It's just, that if someone ever does put us in the clutch
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We just know that y'all ain't gon be the one who's gon do it
'Cause first of all you're pussy and everybody can see that
You fuck around, get caught in a spot that you shouldn't be at
That you got no business being in, we ain't even gon be in it
No one's gunna hear nothing, no one's gunna see this shit
And they'll be in and up out of it, them boys is bout it, bout it
The noise from be drowned out by the crowd
And you'll be laying on the ground getting trampled by people dancing
Till the club closes and clears out
And that's when they see you flatened
Nobody saw it happen, all 'cause your jaws are flapping
And you couldn't stop yapping and took it past rapping
It ain't about the music no more, it's 'bout trying to show off
And it feels like any minute the bomb is 'bout to go off
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