Letra Battle
Album: 8 mile
Artista: Eminem
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{*scratched: "What? You wanna battle ME?"*}
{*scratched: "Yo man, how much money you got?"*}
{*scratched: "What? You wanna battle ME?"*}
{*scratched: "Yo man, how much money you got?"*}
[Guru]
I used to guzzle 40´s, and own a beat up Caddy
since the hood still love me, I´ll turn the heat up daddy
i went from mackin fly honies on the train
to straight relaxin on the beach, countin money gettin brain
soon as you rappers get a chance you wanna floss a lot
you buy a iced out watch because it cost a lot
then you in the club, stylin with dough
profilin with hoes that we boned, a while ago
you rookies haven´t done enough laps around the track
you had one hot single, but then your album sounds wack
son you bore me with your war stories
you ain´t even do that shit, so that´s just more stories
how you expect us to take you seriously?
the look in my eye punk, has got you scared of me
i´m blastin your sons, I´m snatchin your funds
you catch a royal ass-whoopin, you´ve been askin for one.
{*scratched: "I´m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
"Yo man.." "You know the drill"
{*scratched: "I´m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "You wanna battle me?"*}
"Yo man.." "How much money you got?"
[Guru]
Bitch you don´t even know, the half about me
i bring it straight to your chest, ask your staff about me
i´m just a little bit older, plus a whole lot wiser
i might advise ya, or I might pulverize ya
i can visit any city, get respect in the street
while you alone in your room, shook to death of the streets
i´ll take a second to speak, I keep my weapon in reach
i ain´t talkin romance but you´ll get swept off your feet
i keeps a ghetto chick, that loves to blast and she peddle shit
groupies fake moves, I get her to settle shit
you can´t compare to the status right here
legendary worldwide, we can battle right here
listen junior, I´ma tear back your wig
this ain´t TV but I´ll show you what a "Fear Factor" is
stop grillin me, and all that frontin is killin me
you leave me no choice but to hurt your feelings G.
{*scratched: "I´m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "You wanna battle me?"*}
"Yo man.." "How much money you got?"
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
"Yo man.." "You know the drill"
{*scratched: "I´m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
{*scratched: "I´m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
{*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
{*scratched: "I´m bout to slap rappers around"*}
"You know the drill"
{*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
{*scratched: "I´m bout to slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"You know the drill" |
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