Bad Meets Evil (eminem) - Vegas | Текст песни

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• Bad Meets Evil (eminem)
• Vegas

[Verse 1: Eminem]
Got a shit-eatin' grin
Bitch, show me them itty-bitty titties again
We're in Sin City
Since when did we begin to get 'dicted to dope
Diggity, bitch, you need to run and go get your frigity-friends
I'm lookin' at your bum-stickity-bum, hun
The mickity mack's bickity back, don't act wickity-wack
You can get the fickity-finger; the middle
You little dizzy bitch, sit and spig-a-tee-spin
Got a 6 o'clock cravin', stop, get Ciroc
It's 'bout to be an unbelievable night
I called it surreal, Sir Mix-a-Lot tape in
Hit the spot, spot my next victim
I'm picky like I missed a spot shavin'
Came to sip vodka, shit
Yeah, that little chick is hot but if she got rabies
I wouldn't give the bitch a shot, I'd poke her in the rear
But I bet if I licked her, she'd try to chase me (Ha-ha)
What are you: pit, rott, mixed?
Or you just got fixed, well, shit, then let's lip-lock
If not, then chick, piss off, you snobby little pig snot nose
You think you're hot shit cause you're in heat
Well, bitch, if you're solar, then I'm your polar opposite, dog
Cause I'm colder than popsicle sticks, poppin' shit
Talkin' it, walkin' it, spit boxin'
My sick thoughts are 'bout to lick shots, like this shit's hoppin'
And drip-droppin' in chocolatey whip-toppin'
So whether you're hip-hop, Slipknot, B.I.G., Pac
Kid Rock, Kris Kross, Rick Ross, you'll dig this
If not, then kick rocks in flip flops
And I produced the track
So you don't have to ask who it is when this shit knocks (Turn up!)
So bring clairvoyance to this bangin' and I'm a keep on sayin'
All the shit I should be hung for, and probably killed for sayin'
And I probably will, but not until the day I pop a pill again
Like choppin' 'til I'm droppin'
Still if that don't do the job of killin' Shady, then the karma will
They sayin' I must bring it as Mohammad
Until the Parkinson's done eat away my brain
And made me Robin Williams crazy
Or I end up with dementia, but you rockin' with a sadist
Hate to say this, but if the thought is entertainin'
I ain't stoppin' to explain it
Oh my god, for real man, not again I'm shakin'
But before I tie a rope around this nob
If they don't like it, got a knob that they can slob on until -
Wait, I just forgot what I was thinkin'...
What's it called again? I'm blankin'
The thing above the balls between my legs
And I think that I can feel it dangling, it's throbbing and it's veiny
Wait, I think that I got it, okay, bitch I got you, Robin Williams hangin'
Go hang in the lobby unless you came to slob me
Come on kemosabe
It's past time, like your favorite hobby
Cause if the way that I spit she remains on my dick then she grab me by the nuts and tried to take my sausage as a hostage
Ain't it obvious? Pretty much a no brainer
Or should I say Cobainer?
That she's plain addicted to my dick like Lorena Bobbit
Gotta wean her off it, weiner off it like she took my fucking penis, chopped it, and stuck it up between her armpits
And she begun to swing a crumpet knife and paint the carpet, at least that's what her train of thought is
Cause I came, saw, conquered, hit it, quit it, and made up a plate of bonkers
And I always end up giving these bitches a complex
And I don't mean apartment
So spread your feet apart
And let me see you do some yoga stretches, splits
Now grab this Cuisinart
And make me breakfast, bitch, that's a prerequisite
And that's just to get in this bedroom, bitch
Walked up to that Ke$ha chick (what up?)
Said my name is Booger, wanna catch a flick?
I'll even let you pick, make her fetch a stick
Bet you if you get this old dog these new tricks
To get familiar with I'll l

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