Shady CXVPHER

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Eminem

Marshall Bruce Mathers III (born October 17, 1972), known professionally as Eminem (/ˌɛmɪˈnɛm/; often stylized as EMINƎM), is an American rapper, songwriter, record producer, record executive, and actor. He is consistently cited as one of the greatest and most influential artists of all time in any genre, with Rolling Stone ranking him 83rd on its list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time and labelling him the "King of Hip Hop". He will often be called " Slim Shady" at times. He has gotten into quite some rap battles against MGK, ( Machine Gun Kelly) Snoop Dog, etc. more »

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My name is KXNG CROOKED, I snap on you rappers often
When I'm spazzin' I'm just gettin' my passionate point across
Like a hood cat clappin' his hands when he's talkin'
Now that I got your attention, I feel I should really mention
Don't come around here flossin', Big Willies, we really lynch 'em
Pull out the chopper, rappers hittin' the ground
Like every bar is a bullet, when I pull it, it sound like
B-b-b-b-b a couple of bullets are comin' your way then it jam
Like got damn
Then I pick up somethin' quicker, start killin' everything in the vicinity
The proximity, the Glocksimity, we on Yosemite Sam
Bam, bam your body drop
Van Damme, karate chop
The Baretta's a better competitor
Pop pop turn your sweater to a crop top
Killin' you and whoever in that drop top
Etcetera, etcetera and it will not stop
Just shoot, shoot like doot doot
And booku, booku, I'm cookoo
I'm a star goin' to war with you clones like Count Dooku
I'm worlds apart from you rappers
Like I walk in the booth rockin' a biosuit made of plastic
And NASA's galactic elastic travelin' through space, interstellar rapid
Broadcastin' from uninhibited planets
When I come back, that's it
You see a flash in the sky, it's that nigga, I
When I land, you wack niggas die
And your casket is your last hit
You wack bitch, fuckin' bastard
Back to the hand clappin'
You die quicker than Darren Wilson walkin' through Ferguson
Dressed like the grand dragon of the Klan
Passin' niggas with pants saggin'
With their hand on a black Magnum
To clap him backwords so their last words is ?
That's backwards for "F*ck them damn niggas"
Buck them damn triggers
Charge us, bodies fill up them damn Rivers
Cause everybody wanna be the best rapper alive
But I only like dead rappers
Compare me to the best rappers who died
And you rappers I used to look up to
I gotta cancel you now
Like Simon Cowell, I can't let you ex factors survive
Nah, the time's right and they finally limelightin' the god of this rhyme writin'
My mic can only be likened to Poseidon's trident and Zeus' lightin' strike
And my metaphors are what Thor was to the Norse viking
I'm a born titan and at-point kill 'em like swordfightin'
I'm slicin' organs with songwritin'
I dwarf giants, I hope I'm rubbin' you pussies wrong sorta like poor dykin'
I smoke philosophy, I snort science
That means I'm higher than higher learnin', look in my eyes
That's where the fire's burnin'
Try to deny music's messiah returnin'
You die and you fry in my iron furnace
I am on my get rich and die tryin' like when Em was signin' Curtis cause I am murderous

(Joe Budden, Jersey City, New Jersey)
Now we can do this a couple of different ways, it really depends
Could give them classic NY jeans over the Timbs
Or I could spit about my car and how it sit on the rims
I could tell you why I'm hot and disappear like MIMS
But the bars there, put that on God, ask an atheist
And if ain't a bomb at least I'm in the blast radius
I'm beating these kids' indictment, shit, I like the terror
APB on my actions, I'm in the viking era
Moment of truth, I give you facts right now
F*ck the cypher, my mind ain't on rap right now
So it's f*ck metaphors and punches, all the witty shit
Got a missing uncle and another need a kidney flip
Face says I been stressed
I got an aunt getting her ass kicked by MS
Nigga, why am I here? For the look, for the promo
Shit that bothered from the start
Cause the cancer left his lungs and it's on my grandfathers heart
Yeah, just not decided to be his own
I'm supposed to put that to the side when the beat is on
I'm planning the funeral, I'm getting the hearse ready
These niggas only wanna ask me if the verse is ready
Not the how do I feel, not the how do I deal
If that's the life, nigga, then how is it real?
These last couple of days I've been speaking to my peers
Giving them cries for help, I guess they need to see the tears
But wait, wildest part of all of that is
They'll shoot a suicidal rapper right here on the bridge
But f*ck it, gotta pardon 'em, shout out to my squad and 'em
House Gang, Shady, I'm gone, nigga, my job is done

Yelawolf, Gadsden, Alabama

My name is Wayne, I'm from Alabama
Here's the back story
I just fell off the turnip truck with Ernest Tubb
I'm 33, I've got 3 kids and I just popped 3 pills
I don't know which one's which or what it's for
Safety ain't really a habit I've formed
I still smoke to the cigarette butt
I still drink till I end up being that klutz
Clumsy, self-destructive dummy
Stumbling over my words, mumbling
I'll probably do it tonight
Leave the bar, leave the car
And pass out like a fetus in a jar with my feet up to the stars
And dream about that light that leads up to the lord
I have nightmares about my momma getting beat up in the yard
Wake up feeling like half a human
Hit the studio and unleash this guilt and regret
For my lack of union between rap, you and the rock and roll community
For unity between country music and MCs, I'm claiming immunity
Still I'm working, sawing, milling this tree
Building this house exactly the way Charlemagne the god and Lord Jamar 
Thought it would be
Wait a minute, the lord and the god hate me
Jesus Christ, I am the white devil!
Nah
I'm still working, sawing, milling this tree
Building this house exactly the way I thought it should be
Wanna take a tour? Let's see
I've got floor-to-ceiling windows and a cabin-style mansion
Books, bears, trucks, boats, tyres, spares, four-wheelers
Three-wheelers, two-wheelers, a drug dealer on call
Plaques on the wall, racks on the wall for my guns on the wall
Lift gets low while there's chop shops, hi tops, low tops, cowboy boots
Ditsy flags, American flags, Slumerican tags on my Slumerican ass CEO
I've got my name on the bathrobe, and the flame on the back porch is lit
Guess who's coming to dinner?
André 3000 and Hank the Third, go figure
I've got two stand-up jetskis, a top pedigree horse, just a pet to feed of course
Who rides a horse in an ash field? I might
I've got bicycles for the kids, tricycles for the babies
And mateys, bottle rockets, bottles in my pocket
Moonshine, gold watches, gold rings
All fake, no bling, don't hate, that's my thing
I've got new clothes, old clothes, vintage, tremendous, endless style
Goodwill loves me Mackle-more than you
I've got flat screen TVs, with skate videos on repeat
All the latest CDs, mp3s, and Beats by Dre
Thank you very much, Jimmy Iovine for the check
I've got a black woman fine as she can be
FeFe with a ring on her finger that could give sight to the blind
A 5, a 10, a couple hundreds layin' on the counter
I don't know where that came from
I got artwork from hard work, yardworkers for yard work
Don't look under the tarp, sir
I'm growin' weed for my mama there
I've got a paved driveway and photos in the hallway of me on my Harley
And I did it my way
See, hip hop is what you make of it
And I'm makin' a lot of it
See that's a quadruple entendre, Jay Z eat your heart out

But these cyphers, I treat 'em like a war, don't want no mediators
Nah, this that grow up in the P's behavior, next door to the greasy neighbors
People thank you, I do this for all the mean creators
I was someone who never needed favors to get where I'm at
Now they deem me a savior
But to be honest I ain't feelin' like that, I just really like rap
I'm not lucky, trust me
I'm opposite the hands of Sandusky
With the shit that my pen states, these rappers can't touch me
Ugly? Shit, you serious? I'm hideous
I was better than all you silly kids when I was tryna figure out who I really is
As a younger dude, life was somethin' rude
I barely made it to the first like a Cutler move
No rubber groove on my shoes had to fight, so suspensions
I had 3 in one week, yeah that was public school
Did I say 3 in 1? That's funny cause there's 4 of us in the Slaughter
That's 3 to 1, I learned that in public school too
Like what's in between a 3 and 1 and House Gang, I spoke to all 3 on 1 call
Like I dropped 2 albums and #3 is 1 second from bein' done
Just need y'all 3 to send me 1 verse apiece

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