2.0 Boys Lyrics – Eminem
The title "2.0 Boys" is a reference to the fact that Em’s label Shady Records recently revamped its roster. They dumped unsuccessful acts like Stat Quo and Bobby Creekwater, and are rebooting with Slaughterhouse and Yelawolf| Song Name : | 2.0 Boys |
| Album / Movie : | Straight from the Vault EP |
| Singer : | Eminem |
| Music Label : | Straight from the Lab |
| Cast : | Eminem |
Ryan’s a homicidal misfit, I write the solution of biophysicsOn the side of a cliff in some hieroglyphicsThis my admission to having violent psychotic witDevour, polish it, politicsBy the way I’m higher than the Eiffel Tower tipI like writing, but I will stick this pencil in your assBefore I write your shit, pause, inhaling hella kushUs and Yelawolf like a heavy foot gas pedal pushFelons, crooks, going door-to-doorLike we selling books, Dolly Parton style, melons mushedNow my bitch a dancer, I’m about as sick as cancerIf you could swallow my style, you’d probably rip your pants upIf you could bottle my style and sell it to somebodyIt probably will smell like cologne made out of bits of pantherThey call me Anchorman, I hold down the shipLeave you niggas floating in water, then go and drown a fishFuck, I’m fucking heinous, I make you fucking famousThem lead showers is coming, fuck is you saying?
FUCK! It’s fucking raining, SHIT! There’s lightning, BITCH!It’s thundering cause I’m cussing up a storm if you wondering, SHIT!SHIT! You couldn’t muster up enough thoughtTo take a dump during a brain fart, chumpIf you want urine in your face, all you had to do was sayThat you wish you would’ve just stayed pissed off in the first placeWe came to monopolize the game, illuminati is hereYeah, human oddities, at odds with us, your squad’s gotta beCause we started out cold in a snowball, we frozeSoon as we rolled up on these hoes, all’s we knowIs y’all lowered the bar like limbo, you know who you areSo quit fucking the dog before we start calling YOU BizarreShit, screw the pooch, y’all done raped a pitbullFell in love with the shih-tzu, this missile’s directed directly at youAnd this for these hoes who don’t know me from a can of paintYou must be huffing, fuck a ball sackIf the taints can’t take you on a date, you mistake me for a gentlemanYou 2000 and late, man, and Will I ain’t, I’m the bad guyType of guy that will drag five girls up on stagePour ice in their pants, and the first one who pees gets a black eye
Must be outta your mind, you think you fucking with usSuck on these nuts, bitch, hang it up, this game is over
Puffin’ loosies, watching “I Love Lucy” with Gary BuseyCrazy, how the fuck could you son me? I’m ShadyWill there ever come a day when they could slay me?I don’t know, fifth month, black and yellow insect, maybe‘Til then I kill the bad man trying to slay meEverything you kick weak, your spit kung fughesiAll my homeboys, 2.0 BoysNickel, I just picked up a Phantom, look how it rolls, RoyceEven if I wanted to quit, I ain’t got no choiceS keep coming, I should invoice my own voiceYou should see the kind of asses that my pole hoistHoes be like diamonds in your chain, man, so moissBang bang, bang bang, House Gang, chainsawHere to kill you pussies, don’t ask what we came forI write until my right arm veins soreForearm feel like Thor’s arm in a gang warYou hear that? Yaowa, you know who finna fall outDefinitively finish you, my fist take out that eyeballPiranha mentality with a Jaws bite all nightComing up, never saw light, but never lost sight
Jets and movers, cesspoolers, meth abusersYou step to us, text Rugers to respect the shootersMy men think in sync, roll with the best crewMove to the beat of the same drum without Lex LugerWelcome to Nayhood, big in the’jects, GCheated death multiple times without rigging the deckSo I’m well-prepped if you just want warThere will be blood everywhere, you be laying on the Louboutin floorIt’s raw, you keeping acting like you don’t know Mouse, niggaAnd you going to need the best doctors, house niggaGuard your jewels and avoid large toolsCause after I spill you at the light, you be in a car poolKeep your distance from idiots, cause the truth toldThey food for thought’s rotten, they gems are fool’s goldNeed results from my actions, mistakes I’ll exonerateI’m Martin King staring at a picture of Obama’s faceTalking funds, niggas ain’t never seen stockI don’t need the key to the game, I pick a mean lock
Must be outta your mind, you think you fucking with usSuck on these nuts, bitch, hang it up, this game is over
Take off, you invited inside of the mind ofA psychotic rhymer, I’m kind of a (Dahmer)I’m grinding up rappers are lining up jackers, I’m climbing up laddersI buy enough clappers to retire you factors, fire at dramaYou liars and actors, I’m the genuine articleBut read me wrong, get my gun and split you to particles(The gold hand) Tell me when and I’m thereNot only heir to the throne, but my chair is suspended in airStay fly like unlimited fareYou got us pegged wrong, my circle don’t fit in with squaresI smell shit and piss, know where it’s coming fromYou stepped on number two just to be number oneNow I’m a step on you, bring it to your yardBogart for arts, we go hardYou frauds just blow hard like broads, I coast guard the WestI’m Mozart, I compose dark shit with no heart
I got Jim Beam in the liver, getting head like clean clippersWith haters on my dick like a jeans zipperWhen I throw up 16’s like I drink liquorYou think you seen sick? Well, bitch, you ain’t seen sickerThan a cracker that will hop around in a hospital gownPopping the trunk, my pump will stay cocking the roundI shit logs and I piss river brownCause I drink creek water and spit the river NileAnd that’s as close as I get to a pyramidShit, they think I’m Illuminati, so fucking ignorantSick with a grin, here with this pen, so innocentBut when you win, they say you a sin, but in the endThey jump on the bandwagon and dance to the band playingSkinny-ass pants sagging, it’s only yourself you playingCall me a clown, but you love what the clown’s sangingI’m a freak shows at the county carnival, then you payingBitch, I’m on a trapeze with no legs in the darkYelling “Go Shady!” Driving slower than an old ladyIn an old ’89, no piece if you pay meGive me peace sign on my grill, no MercedesI’m getting paid for these shows that I throw latelySame shows a year ago would have broken most of you craziesThey call me crazy cause I made itBitch, you crazy cause you quit, look at my clique latelyYou ain’t fucking with Budden, you ain’t got no choice with RoyceYou don’t want to see the Crooked I, well, listen to Ortiz voiceThat dirt road hit the 8 Mile, the point oh boysAnd if Marshall want me to clap, then, homie, I deploy game over
Yo, I don’t think they heard you, tell ’em again
Game over!
Haha!