Session One (feat. Slaughterhouse) (Recovery 2010)
[Eminem] Ladies and gentlemen make some noise aww shit yeah y’all ready to get this shit started or what well I brought some friends with me too
Now I ain’t back just for the sake of just saying I’m back I could relax but I’d rather stack ammo on tracks couple Xanax light a couple wax candles then black out and relapse til I yack Jack Daniels and yap, burp bubbles attitudes immaturing, double shot of bacardi party vision is blurring, waa hooo I can’t see shit my words get to slurring uh oh, you can call me R Kelly now or your in trouble whats incurring before after enduring the show has no baring on the bad news I’m baring whoa what is it word play no I’m pushing you out the dumps so suck my dick on the couch if you wanna cushion the blow then stomp your fucking feet till you get to squishing a hoe its panda-monium (?) when you see him, damn baby you look good you’re giving me wood you should pull over like a sweat shirt with a hood (?) you and me both break bread while I’m copping over this game now pinch a loaf now homie who’s your favourite pain in the ass who claims to be spitting the same flames as me I’m Kanye when he crashed in otherwords I got the hood on smash like I stepped on the gas destroyed the front end deployed the damn airbags from the dash went through ‘em and laughed came back an hour after the accident and bit a god-damn jaw-breaker in half so stop (?) the funk and start shaking ya ass slaughterhouse in the house with the caucasion rapping Just Blaze on the track what the fuck is more amazing than that slut answer me that, Royce where you at?
[ROYCE] I’m right here Fire Marshall, verbal pair of pliers are prying you apart(?), lump on your head designed by a bar-stool Designed by a cartoon, before I need to be hired Jimmy ‘Io fire Marshall The 9 tucked against the lining I pull it out and flip your partner upside-down like ya’ll are a couple 69ing It’s like Rick James is shooting up your house, nigga….fuck your couch nigga! You screaming ‘fuck the world’ with your middle finger up While I’m over here shoving my dick in a hole in the mud My bitch, know I’m perfectly fit for murder Because I murdered her, so you can call me Nickel the OJ the Glove I got a Posse of Insane Clowns; blow your brains on your opposite ear Then ask you how your brain sounds Bad, evil, weirdo, Alfred (?), mad cerebral, you on your last burrito! (What that mean Nickel?) It’s a rap if you eating, get a beat then terrorize that bitch like I’m Middle Eastern Slaughterhouse on fire, nobody touching that Good day and good night, Ortiz where the fuck you at?
[JOEL ORTIZ] I’m right here; my Nike Airs buzz light-years ahead of my mic peers Quite scary to look at, a nightmare, where my book at I’ll write fear- In the heart of you tight squares, I harbour the art of you nice ________ It’s ______________ cuz that made me hotter than my dear Uncle Al’s breath after polishing off his 9th beer Homie chill listen, I swear, I’m God; I give tracks a holy feel (Holyfield) And they bite ears I’m right here, why wouldn’t I be, just waiting to be hooked to IV’s- __________ brown when you look at my pee And this joint, no exception, so just point a direction, and record the pig’s oink- When I rip his intestines This isn’t just an infection; this won’t go away with penicillin injections- Millions of questions arose after they did an inspection What I exhibit, seems to be non-contagious yet anybody can get it aww shit I did it again, when I lit with this pen, I admitted this phlegm- This time along side Em and the Em So tell a friend to tell a friend, write a disgusting hook Jump in shark water and swim, yo where the fuck is Crook?
[CROOKED I] I’m right here letting the shotty pop Quick as a karate chop, get your body shot, get your top chopped like a lollipop Come with Maserati drop, in the bo