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letra de vegas - bad meets evil

[chainsaw revving]
ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha

[verse 1: eminem]
got a sh-t-eating grin
b-tch, show me them itty-bitty t-tties again
we’re in sin city, since when did we begin to get dignity?
no diggity, b-tch, you need to run and go get your figgity-friends
i’m lookin’ at your bum-stiggity-bum, hun
the miggity mack’s biggity back, don’t act wiggity-wack
you can get the figgity-finger: the middle
you little dizzy b-tch, sit and spiggaty-spin
got a 6 o’clock cravin’, stop, get cîroc
it’s ’bout to be an unbelievable night
i’ll call it surreal, sir mix-a-lot tape in
hit the spot, spot my next victim
i’m picky like i missed a spot shavin’
came to sip vodka, sh-t, yeah, that little chick is hot
but if she got rabies i wouldn’t give the b-tch a shot
i’d poke her in the rear, but i bet if i l1ck her, she’ll try to chase me
(ha ha!) what are you: pit, rott, mixed?
oh, you just got fixed, well sh-t, then let’s lip-lock
if not, then trick, p-ss off, you sn0bby little pig snot nose
you think you’re hot sh-t ’cause you’re in heat
well, b-tch, if you’re solar, then i’m your polar opposite, dog
’cause i’m colder than popsicle sticks, poppin’ sh-t
talkin’ it, walkin’ it, spit boxin’
my sick thoughts are ’bout to l1ck shots, like the sh-t’s sobbin’
and drip-droppin’ in chocolatey whip-toppin’
so whether you’re hip-hop, slipknot, b.i.g., pac
kid rock, kris kross, rick ross
you’ll dig this; if not, then kick rocks in flip flops!
and i produced the track
so you don’t have to ask who it is when this sh-t knocks (turn up!)
so crank the volume ’til it’s bangin’ and i’ma keep on sayin’
all the sh-t i should be hung for and probably k!lled for sayin’
and i probably will, but not until the day i pop a pill again
like joplin ’til i drop, and still
if that don’t do the job of k!llin’ shady, then the karma will
they sayin’ i must bring it as mohammad
until the parkinson’s done ate away my brain
and made me robin williams crazy
or i end up with dementia, but you rockin’ with a s-d-st
hate to say this, but if the thought is entertainin’
i ain’t stoppin’ til we explain it
oh my god, for real, man, not again, i’m shakin’
but before i tie a rope around this n0b
if they don’t like it, got a kn-b that they can slob on until it’s—
wait, i just forgot what i was thinkin’…
what’s it called again? i’m blankin’
the thing above the b-lls between my legs
and i think that i can feel it dangling, it’s throbbing and it’s veiny
wait, i think that i got it, okay
b-tch, i got you, robin williams hangin’
b-tch, don’t hang in the lobby unless you came to slob me
come on, kemosabe, it’s past time like your favorite hobby
’cause of the way that i spit she remains on my d-ck
then she grab me by the nuts
and try to take my sausage as a hostage
ain’t it obvious? pretty much a no-brainer
or should i say cobainer?
that she’s plain addicted to my d-ck like lorena bobbitt
gotta weiner off it, wean her off it
like she took my f-cking p-n-s, chopped it
and stuck it up between her armpit
and she begun to swing a karambit knife and paint the carpet
at least that’s what her train of thought is
’cause i came, saw, conquered it
hit it, quit it, and made her plain b-bonkers
and i always end up giving these b-tches a complex
and i don’t mean apartment
so spread your feet apart
and let me see you do some yoga stretches, splits
now grab this cuisinart
and make me breakfast, b-tch, that’s a prerequisite
and that’s just to get in this bedroom, b-tch
walked up to that ke$ha chick (what up?)
said my name is booger, wanna catch a fl1ck?
i’ll even let you pick, make her fetch a stick
bet you if you give this old dog these new tricks
to get familiar with i learned extra quick
kick a pregnant b-tch, oops, i guess the sh-t
took an unexpected twist like the neck of the freaking exorcist
cha-cha-cha
b-tch, i said that this mask ain’t for hockey
hate versace, versace, i got münchhausen by proxy
i’m making you sick, don’t pretend you can’t hear me
you deaf, girl, i said you was foxy
i’ll tell a b-tch like bizarre
b-tch, shut the f-ck up and get in my car!
and suck my f-cking d-ck while i take a sh-t
and i think with my d-ck, so come blow my mind
and it tastes like humble pie, so swallow my pride
you’re lucky just to follow my ride
if i let you run alongside the humvee
unless you’re nicki, grab you by the wrist, let’s ski
so what’s it gon’ be? put that sh-t away, iggy
you gon’ blow that rape whistle or me?
(squee!) i love it, love it, love it
‘fore i get lost we’re gettin’ off
like this is our exit, now let’s hit the highway
and try not to get lost ’til we get to las vegas

[bridge: eminem]
(party, do it ’til tomorrow)
vegas
’til we get to las vegas
(party, do it ’til tomorrow)
vegas
’till we get to las vegas
(party, do it ’til tomorrow)
vegas
’til we get to las vegas
(party, do it ’til tomorrow)
vegas

[chorus: eminem]
whatever happens here, stays here
so let’s go all the way dear
’til we get to las vegas

[verse 2: royce da 5’9]
whatever happens in my room, it stays in my room
like movie night like cable
treat every women in my stable like flavors
l1ck her like she kryptonite and i get weak after like 7 days
and 7 nights in the days inn, it’s hot vegas
we roll in circles and packs, we the lifesavers
she got a boyfriend, i got a toy then
i’ll bring it with me when i show up to her crib wavin’
and i ain’t tryna meet a nice neighbor
i’m so jay electronic, i’m cut like i’m all out of razors
and all i got is a gun left with a bayonet on it
neck so frozen it look like i walked in a jewelry store
with about a million dollars with your mama
and sat down and did an als challenge
haaaan! i stole that adlib from french
bad & evil back at it again
about to get my back tatted again
about to get a pic of a backstabber with an axe in his hand
sittin’ on a bike in the sand
if you ain’t been through nothin’
then that shouldn’t mean nothin’ to you like likes on the ‘gram
if she current, i keep her p-ssy purrin’ like the pipes on a lamb
weed got her so ch-nky-eyed
look like she been gettin’ high on a flight to j-pan
i keep my jewelry on while i’m f-ckin’
sound like i’m shakin’ up dice in a can
listen, though this ain’t christmas
i make you my ex miss if this is my p-ssion
i learn to give those who don’t appreciate my presence
the gift of my absence
i don’t know who you been listenin’ to
got me f-cked up like pookie in the chicken coop
b-tch, i don’t give a two sh-ts
(b-tch, get the f-ck out of my face!)
to make a long story short, i don’t really gotta stand there
and listen to you while you throw a silly tantrum
even though i have an affinity for a witty banter
startin’ to feel like foulplay like billy laimbeer
hold up, she misunderstood me, i said say, por favor
thought i said the wraith had four doors
i knock a n-gga face off
give him the bottom of the 9 like a baseball scoreboard (whatever)
i leave the club with my tab still open
won’t even get a cab for you and yo’ friend
the only fear i have is of loathin’
and i won’t even kick in ’til we get to las vegas

[chorus: eminem]
whatever happens here, stays here
so let’s go all the way dear
’til we get to las vegas

- bad meets evil

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