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letra de loud noises - eminem

[eminem]
life handed me lemons, i jumped back in the public eye and squirted lemon
juice in it, by now you just wish i’d f-cking die, but i electrify, get
electricuted, executed by an executioner of my flow too wit for the human
eye to detect zooming by g-g-g-guess who? what’s happenin’ guy? you told me
to sh-t fell off that pot, hopped right back on that cr-pper and i said
f-ck you, with a capital “i”, look who’s back to antag-gonize you don’t
like it, you can eat sh-t, f-ck off little f-ggot and die you right back
like a maggot on my d-ck grabbing at my sh-t, better get to the back of the
line you wanna get your shot at me? what kinda cr-p is that battle? what
kinda rapper would i be? before i let another rapper think he’s hot i’ll
bury my face in his stinky tw-t and go (tongue noises) go ‘head, sp-ce is
limited, ain’t even room in the back of my mind that’s why i ain’t thinking
about you, i don’t got time and i told you a thousand times so how can i
find the time to put an alkaline battery in royce’s back and at the same
time put juice in mine? goddammit slaughterhouse is signed

[voice]
slaughterhouse!

[verse 2: crooked i]
i’m a menace villain, my pen is sitting spilling, my livers killing then i
let you witness sh-t when it hit the ceiling the n-gg-s willing to give the
listeners the sickest feeling like mixing some benadryl and penicillin then
i’m filling the clip with a written, can you picture my pistol drilling? a
million women and children when i’m illing but it isn’t real, it’s a rap on
the real, it’s a wrap, how could you possibly stop the apocalypse when i’m
atomic bombing the populous shock the metropolis hostile as a kid popping
the glock at his moms and his pops then he hops in his drop with his ipod
rocking the slaughterish doc-mentation and lyrics i write with confidence
write like a columnist slash novelist i’m in this game to demolish,
establish my dominance over prominent rappers you popping sh-t ’til you
opposite i can spit ominous so spit politics now i’m haile sel-ssie gandhi
and pac of this hip hop genre, b-tch

[voice]

[verse 3: royce]
lyrically i’m a cocaine altoid ability to bring, it’s a no brain bout boy
physically i’m literally a cocaine cowboy, wait-wait did i just go almost
four bars without talking about my big d-ck? the other day me and your
thick b-tch had a great day and we ate cake and then we walked and then she
tried to jack me off but she lost cause she couldn’t handle my sh-t, wait i
sweared, irony of ryan is i am bipolar while i’m rhyming standing beside a
big old white bear neither one of us fight fair, you are literally looking
at woody and wesley in a movie with a white boy ain’t got to jump no where
cause i’m here n-gg- i’m on fire yeah and i’m every b-tch’s dream one, two
i’m coming for you, i’m a big old nightmare n-gg- this the slaughter
stepping up i’ll pretty much slap your -ss and tell you to shut the f-ck up
after that i’ll slap your -ss again and tell you to shut the f-ck up
shutting up and that’s how you body a f-cking beat

[voice]

[verse 4: joell ortiz]
i should be the one that goes slow… nah, get a stopwatch, clock my flow
hit the b-tton on top, watch the jaw drop, oh-oh, that’s that aww yaowa,
when i drop i go outta sp-ce blackout like darth vader’s face, placed in a
molten shower say something and get them proper mama poppa pouring out
vodka mama mia, em p-ss me the seeds, it’s (?) slaughterhouse got signed
better yet boy go home, better yet boy g4 chrome, better jet boy mark
sanchez, santanio holmes, i’m not just any old homeboy sitting in a lab
picking up a pad i be spitting bad, i’mma get you mad with this gift i have
lord duck sufferin succotash when the trigger blast i’mma put your beak on
your fitted hat where the liquor at? sip of yak that b-tch and a vicious
track (?) sly pro tools to boast joe smooth i coast to the west like we’re
tired of living at new york here’s a piggyback ride to the motherland, hold
on brotherman, on the other hand get down, i’m gutter fam, gun b-tt you
with the eagle handle cunningham i don’t wanna talk, i just wanna beef, i
don’t want a piece, i want it all baby boy i don’t wanna eat, i wanna feast
up (?) rough piece of sh-t, you done weak, i’m the one, capiche?

[voice]

[verse 5: joe budden]
insane what they call us, ain’t married to the game but you probably
shouldn’t have came to the altar every bar like propane for the sawed-off,
using (?) to forge you eminent mr. porter, slaughter my cinnamons emminent
torture all of you feminine marauders, that’s women at war men will -ssault
you, time is a b-st-rd symbol of (?) kidnap your trembling daughter, at
least a quarter i’m administering supporters, got an aura more like sodom
and gomorrah normally something’s wrong with me claiming a quant-ty of the
p-rn i see on the pause to me when i fix the game they’ll think sh-t came
with a warranty how the f-ck are they gonna stop what i was born to be,
corner me, sh-t belong to me two choices, you can get along with me or sit
your f-ggot -ss right there in dormancy wait, all you missing is heels to
be rupaul ain’t n-body that’s real ever knew y’all second to none and i’m
dealing with marshall this time i never come down, deal with the blue b-lls
you ain’t gotta fear me but you’ll respect me n-gg-s who never met me
threaten me, want to gillete me why don’t you let me come (?) i got some
machetes swinging spaghetti like it’s heavy some said he deserve an espy in
a chevy like andretti, put the dezzy where his chest be

- eminem

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