[Verse 1: Mr. Porter]
 [bad word] to the ill world of Mr. P-O
Aye, keep the talk, B, I'm tryna see dough
If it ain't about bread, what we gon' speak fo'?
If it ain't no lead, then it ain't no beef, bro
You better get a leash, ‘cause your freak ho
Specialize in wood, like she Home Depot
I'm like Chico DeBarge, we stars
Roscoe P. Coltrane in these bars, man
Amtrak, I'll break her [bad word] back, man
It's Ralph Lauren, this ain't no [bad word] Chaps
It's all Polo, I'm so pro though
You bird-crazy; El Pollo Loco
Talking 'bout cheese and this ain't no photo
Asking 'bout rings like the ho know Frodo
You better get out of my house and [bad word] 
I think I threw up in my mouth a bit, I'm sick

[Verse 2: Royce da 5'9"]
Niggas be lying, talking 'bout that, bust a heater
Once I see him, maybe more like Justin Bieber
Leaving my rivals underground, like Skyzoo's, how I do
I have him laying in the street and bleeding, butt-naked
With a bullet in his [bad word] #39; head, like Erykah Badu
I find irony in being in a place
Where I'm wearing Gucci, mane, getting whiteboy wasted
I tell a [bad word]  break bread or take lead
I'm trying to get rid of this weight, like K-Fed
Me and Denaun got a gangsta bond
We like that once-in-a-lifetime
Thing to you; that ain't the prom
The next MC that rhyme official, with ref, with a whistle
That ain't Young Money, I'ma definitely diss you
If you rhyming "packing a MAC" with "back of the Acura"
Or perhaps you can't match my spectacular vernacular
You still rhyming bottles with models, college for knowledge
Using the word swagger, you're probably garbage
You thugs [bad word] 5'9" to anybody
 [bad word] Superman to Bugs Bunny

[Verse 3: Eminem]
I'm like a white Michael – Vick, psycho enough to stick
Michael J. Fox in a microwave with a Rott
I might make a little Alizé with a side of NyQuil
And ride a motorcycle bike
Right through the side of my high school
Satan's disciple with a sniper rifle
And a knife and a white diaper
Liable to [bad word] on you while I snipe you
So dope he gets off opiates
What an appropriate way to start off his day!
He may just smart off to Dre
He may be hard to contain, ‘cause his rage is so hard to gauge
See, Hannibal ate his face, and met Jason, gnawed off his leg
Amazing hard-on for razors and blades
And anything sharp, even poisonous darts
It all plays a major part of his game
Holy water won't ward him off, [bad word] won't do the trick
He's so sick, it's ridiculous, sawed the crazy part off his brain
He's still insane; why's there bloodstains on his carpet, mane?
There's some crazy [bad word] going on in Shady's apartment again

[Verse 4: Mr. Porter]
Okay, it's back to the blocks, slingin' yay like the old days
Superman on the beat, I carry my whole state
You wooden legs to a house; you can't hold weight
Oh [bad word]  it's O'Shea Jackson… okay
little bit of this twisted out with Obama in it
Mr. Porter back with anthrax, like Osama sent him
 [bad word]  I'm all that, I drive the girls crazy
They gotta look at Rorschachs to get they thoughts back
I ain't a small fry, small ticker, small tack
I make 'em all cry with big [bad word] and raw sack
The potblood of science to return a raw rap
I'm the best, mane; Eli Porter stance

[Verse 5: Royce da 5'9"]
Y'all [bad word] should call Nickle the Don Bishop
poet, a mixture of Don Goines and John Grisham
Flow'll have you rewinding it four or five times
That landmine rhyme written with porcupine line
Step up in here with the Slaughterhouse
C.O.B. Gang will approach you
And bend your gun barrel to a horseshoe
Only [bad word] with monsters, we the [bad word] 
Monsters will pop up on you
Like you said "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice."
I can't even see the booth, I could fit Stevie's shoe
I'm sick, I got the Desert Eagle flu
I'm rich, lil' [bad word]  we don't need a cent, we Teflon
The doctor tried to take blood, the needle bent; ask Mom
Outta my mind if you can imagine
Using Magic's johnson without a condom, I'm bonkers
Got the streets going, dude, it's tremendous
If [bad word] for your blood, I ain't gon' be using syringes

[Verse 6: Eminem]
Newsflash, I'm still trashed
Them pills should've killed my [bad word] 
But they didn't; they just made me stronger
It's like they rebuilt my [bad word] 
Like the Six Million Dollar Man after the crash
It's Aftermath, [bad word] #33; And my milk glass is still half-empty
Yeah, tempt me; [bad word] isn't enough
They need to invent somewhere new to send me
As sick as I'm getting
They'll stick me in a conventional oven
With a rotisserie setting and won't even notice me sweating
 [bad word]  I done made a verse, said some foul [bad word] 
Tryna go back fix it, [bad word] around, and just made it worse
Yeah, I'm back, looking no worse for wear
Got these haters mad enough to rip off their hair
And start punching the air
Panties so in a bunch that they can't function
It's Shady and Royce, [bad word] yeah, what a dysfunctional pair!
So stop acting like a punk, get a pair!
Take a pill and fall the [bad word] out, spill your lunch in the chair!

[Verse 7: Mr. Porter]
Look, I'm sick, somebody better get the Dimetapp
Who I gotta shoot just to prove that I can rap?
People ask where my shine is at
I say check the liner notes, I done done all kinda [bad word] 
I am so much of a star, [bad word] 
That I can [bad word] and [bad word] on the red carpet
Look, my bank account's retarded
My debit card's got a helmet and a harness
Hey, meet demands, but they all are harmless
At shows, my riders always the largest
I need four pounds of fried poultry carcass
And red M&Ms chartered from Charlotte
Look, and if you try to act dumb and start [bad word] 
I just yell at 'em, like, "I'm the artist!"
In fact that you know the deal
If you wanna play sick, we can all get ill
Look, measles, mumps, I made you [bad word] 
I don't need you chumps
Y'all got cheese and I need my chunks
Hurry up, so I can go to [bad word] and get some more dunks

[Verse 8: Royce da 5'9"]
Now, if your attitude determines your latitude
This house that we call hip-hop, I'm in the attic, fool
mic and two turntables, fit for the unstable
Converted to a padded room
Keep a street sweeper; in fact, I call the mag a broom
You seeing beef, seeing things
You must've had yourself a bag of shrooms
I make a call, make 'em fake a fall
My clique is too sick, say goodbye
In the streets where the stakes is high, [bad word] #39;s Chris
I'm from the city of [bad word] [bad word] 
Where the mayor went to jail
For being a player right after Proof split
Levels the head [bad word]  Royce that
I'm drinkin' everyday 'til Hex Murda get his regular voice back
Ras, I got ya, look scared at ya, blast from ya
From a block away; ask Tricky, I'm that niggie
I'm more hooder than black [bad word] 
I rap [bad word] suicide in the booth
Taking the track with me
Patrón's in my chromosomes
In order to leave it alone, you have to ween me off
That Lorena Bobbitt chopper'd, knock a weenie off
Put your body between chalk
I'm squeezing the 9 iron, like I'm swingin' golf
I'm with the best rapper alive, put somethin' on it
Your sound's plain as a cheeseburger with nothin' on it

[Verse 9: Eminem]
I'll do a hundred-yard dash just to slash Kim Kardash'
In the [bad word] with a shard of glass from Nick Hogan's car crash
You may look like the passenger for that, don't be a smartass
Yeah, laugh while you sit there
Thinkin' that the hard part passed
You ain't seen pain 'til Leatherface flips, mayne
I'll cut your [bad word] balls off, homie, my saw's off the chain
I chopped the [bad word] in half with it, sawed off her legs
And the top half of the torso [bad word] crawled off insane
I ain't seen [bad word] like that since I went to Mike Jack's
Took the Elephant Man's skull, [bad word] it, and put it right back
Handed my [bad word] to Bubbles
While he sucked it and licked my nut sack
Gave him a reach-around
While I [bad word] him right in his butt crack
Nah, I ain't takin' it back, [bad word]  [bad word] that!
I give a [bad word] about nothin', so here's where you [bad word] up at
Don't go touchin' that can, man, you don't wanna open up that
Wait a min, ah, [bad word] .. Alchemist, cut that!