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letra de eminem biggest freestyle in the world! - westwood - eminem

verse 1 (eminem):
i wasn’t born mean
i was pushed to treach’
i walk the streets looking for some pus’ to fetch me
i’m like a veggie, brain is turning mush
i’m edgy
edgy enough to give reggie bush a wedgie
if he don’t give me kim things could get messy
so p-ss that -ss to me, let me squish the left cheek
and press against the right one, ’til it’s squished against me
and leave a dead body in the woods
the mc with the christopher reece beef
started off on the wrong foot
or should i say fake leg made out of wood
i shouldn’t
yes i should
ridin’ through the hood
i’m chilling with westwood
i’m quite mellow
a white fellow
my pee is bright yellow
i like jello
i’m like: h-llo
to a cute little dike on the mic
i’m kinda like…

verse 2 (kon artis):
see i’m the first one to cl-ss and the last to leave
i mean the first one to leave out of cl-ss
believe
then i’m a mail box pimp in my heart ’til i die
even after i’m all gone
and my ashes fry
went from an ashy guy
to cl-ss clown is high
to a grown -ss man stacking –
paypal
run your mouths to click
d12’s the game
we been spitting this sh-t since we were little babies
ga ga googoo
na na noo noo
never
word to my homie em’
i’m just too too clever
a 4-5 shot would leave ya face lopsided
the kick from the girl make you think i’m c-ck’ided
bustin’ off in the crowd
i start diving
greg louganis over the bar
i ain’t lying
hot iron lethals
not defying the soldier
run ya d-mn soldier
equals death when it’s over
there’s none colder than –
the understanding struggle
flighter street hustle
we been had to hustle
we been had to hustle
we been had to muscle
flighter street hustle
we been had to hustle

verse 2 (eminem):
yeh
aight
me and westwood blasting off, jacking off
in a pair of acid wash
b-mping (?)
cruising gr-ss ’til i’m d-mned to crash the car
tryna smash ’em off
on the dash
hit the overp-ss
went off, over the bridge
on-coming traffic
cause a m-ssive 42 car pile-up, not a scratch at all
hopped up holding an axing saw
jason; masks is off
my face is plastered in tabasco sauce
spiting flames; kicking fire out your -ss
you little b-tch, you can p-ss it on
i’m battery acid dog, you don’t wanna get my -ss ticked off
i’m harder than playing basketball
while i’m going through back withdrawals
d-ck so big it’s like elastic; tie it in a knot
it’s looks like mr. fantastic crossed the path of fantastic-man
with a drastic force
so it’s —
put my p-n-s on cl-ssic sports

verse 3 (eminem):
once again; it’s the sinister cynical minister shady
kryptonite to superman, he’s a dentist to amy
administerer of the pain, just finished huffin’ the paint
and m-ffler fumes like it was nothin’, because it ain’t
anything in his way, his enemies he just slays
his venom he spray; reaches like beams of energy rays
menacing stares, he glares, making the hairs
all on the back of ya neck stand like dracula, yep
spectacular rep, he’s a tarantula, gargantuan
yeah, angela; so i command ya to start dancin’
part-manson, part-hannibal, part-mechanical-shark
throwing animal parts at scarlett johansson
enter my gas chamber, you gangsta? my -ss
he’s got his fangs to your neck, he’s set to strangle ya -ss, hater
you’re facin’ a task greater, he’s chasin’ your -ss
he’s got his face in a mask; your blood stains on his gl-ss table
i’m checking the exposure of photos of me exposing
myself locked inside of a cozy hotel posing
with or without clothing, next to the decomposing
bodies eroding while i’m dozing off, overdosing
windows opening, shutting; doors opening, closing
i think there’s a ghost, too much hydrocodone and codeine
i was only ‘sposed to swallow a half, i took the whole thing
i’m not joking, i think i just snorted my nose ring
i need a drink, i’m standing over the sink hosing
myself, self-loathing, cause i’m on a brink, mostly
i don’t wanna think; this will make everything rosy
beverly sings, scream while i’m severing three toesies
totally frozen while i close in
i’m yodelling “rosie, won’t you come out to play?”
ain’t no sense wasting time, cutting and pasting headlines
in the papers, making shrines of my crimes and capers
my words are whirlwinds, i murder my girlfriends
go to europe and put nurofens in my syrup and stirred ’em
you never heard ’em like this; so don’t encourage him
the neurosurgeon, c-ke mirrors, and lyrics worse than
the kinda person to get katie couric to cursin’
eighty spirits of ladies cause shady murdered the virgins
crazy turn of events that he emerged
took over the world and reeled in all the children
lured ’em into the building and k!lled ’em
buried ’em in the mulch and mildew; and he will do, what he feels
and still can spin, straw into gold like rumplestiltskin
cotton to silk, motrin to tylenol 3 pills
the real slim shady’s entered the buildin’
there’s nothing but crumbled leaves and tumbleweeds up in this b-tch
mildred, he’s ill with it; he still shouldn’t be healed
there’s no one as sick as he, mcs will get fric-ssee’d on the grill, then

verse 4 (eminem):
i have no idea what i’m doing
i have no idea what i’m doing
but
everybody get up
sit up christopher
they’re miserable without you
superman issa, alive and he’s flowing like the mystic river
girl don’t act like you never been kissed before
1 2 3 4
5 6 this a; rhyme is about to hit you right in the kisser
how did anybody find me i disa-ppeared; i was hiding in 3 ways beer jissa
hop skip and a jump coz my skin (?)
meals into my face; that i been pushing
h-ll-raiser; my face is my pin-cushion
it’s like when i’m on the mic i can squish a
suck it like a vice grip
my pin put ya; in the slaughter house coz your style’s been butchered
out-spin chainsaw
take it like the blades on; my brains on hyper-drive
someone put the brakes on

hook (eminem and kon artis):
it’s a smidget the midget to get the digits bridget don’t try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
i got you slipping on my swag juice; my swag juice
i got you slipping on my swag juice; my swag juice
it’s a smidget the midget to get the digits bridget don’t try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
i got you slipping on my
—

verse 5 (eminem):
… coz it gets as busy as a
bee, baby you can throw a frisbee in the blizzard
he’ll catch in his teeth
what is he?
he’s a wizard
standing in the disco with the disco-biscuit
and i’m pretty sure it isn’t this quick is it?
now baby don’t forget to bring ya lipstick with ya
i want a kiss before i blow this b-tch to, smithereens
get the guillotines; this is a st-tch-up
west is a critical as dre, spin with ya
turn tables and he cuts the record like a scissor
check a chick
a check a chick
a check a check a chicka
we’ll wreck in a second, tell me what the heck is sicker
wait a minute i just dropped my necklace in the liquor
now baby just make a little bit of breakfast it’s a 6 o’clock in the morning
does she wanna get some…

- eminem

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