М и М - До-ре-ми | Текст песни

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[Verse 1 - Swifty McVay]
I'm about to get rid of some hoes, it's simple
I'm quick to Murder Inc. with lead and I ain't talkin about a pencil
Look at what the fuck you done got into
I see you found your niche you just a bitch with a menstrual
Claimin you a murderer and spelt it wrong
You put "E" before the "D" because that's all you on
You on Pac's dick (bitch), you a replica guy (*gunshots fired*)
If he was still alive, you would never get by (for real)
All you do is cry, bitch keep it real
Life is more than imitatin niggaz and eatin pills
And what kinda motherfucker ruins three deals
That another nigga got you, they didn't see skills
And I ain't playin, you a brother gettin cheated
And Ja Rule be prayin on his color cause he need it
(2Pac: Get on your knees and pray)
And all you niggaz hatin, shut your mouths
It's just the real niggaz ain't buyin that shit y'all put out

[Verse 2 - Obie Trice]
Doe Rae Me, but we don't sing motherfuckers
So Murder Inc. do your thing motherfuckers
You unleashed on a team
Who expects nothin less than R & B comin from that regime
Regime, is a little extreme
That connect some soldiers, motherfuckin Marines
Ja sold his soul to sing
Weave our witness team on the TV screen
Chased the greed, now that you embraced the green
Don't fuck with them triple beams
You's a motherfuckin actor slash Pac impersonatin rapper
Slash Billy Holiday, how it happen?
Artists and repertoire saw him in action
Pac assassination, Def Jam grabbed 'em
Told 'em reenact 'em, you go platinum
They seen it for sure, I know that Afeni Shakur don't enjoy
Jeffrey Atkins reenactin her boy
So I'm click clackin the toy, mash and destroy (*gun cocked and fired*)
Shady slash Aftermath in Detroit motherfucker (*gunshots*)

[Chorus - Eminem] - w/ ad libs
Doe ray me, you fly so latte da, don't blame me
Cause you washed up, lost your spot
I'm a stay on my side of my crusade
Ja quit playin, knock it off you're not Tupac
Don't hate me cause you hot and your not goin at me
The only shot you got
Ja quit playin knock it off you're not Tupac
And get popped like all that shit you pop

C'MON!

[Verse 3 - Kuniva]
Now we can skip past the mean mugs, get to the slugs
'Til the grievance and the cryin and the intimate hugs
We don't take you serious nigga, you shook
You half of a halfway crook
Get off X's dick go sing a hook nigga
And you can't replace the late great one
And when you gone you only gon' be the late fake one
Nigga please, stick to the script
Before the guns stick to the clip
And Benzino you ain't shit but a bitch
Fuckin old ass ignorant innocent lookin senior citizen
Built up slap you like Grandmas all sensitive
Wait a minute hold on (what's up?)
Is it me or do we look like a banana with braids and clothes on (*laughing*)
A bitch "Made Man", now how you gonna connect
With those short ass arms like a Tyrannosaurus Rex
You niggaz could scream holla and curse
Go ahead, respond and pull that pen and pad up outta your purse

[Verse 4 - Proof]
Slim didn't send Proof to get into +Wankstas+
He told me to let loose and spit at the gangstas
What up Gotti and this little war you pushed on
Put your ear to the ground for stuckin your Bridgestones
What's wrong? Didn't think we strong with real niggaz?
Roll like a boss in the streets they still feel us
It's real business, y'all ain't caught the concept (bitch)
When the talk get nonsense to walk in bomb threats
Contacts was blown by Benzetta in The Source
Threatin at the boss you gonna see me on your porch


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