eminem 8mile tribute

[Future]

Well Jimmy moved in with his mother

Cuz he ain't got no place to go

 

[Eminem]

And now I'm right back in the gutter

With a garbage bag that's full of clothes

 

[Future]

Cuz you live at home in a trailer

What the hell u gonna do?

 

[Eminem]

Cuz I live at home in a trailer

Mom I'm coming home to you

Well my names jimmy and his names Greg Buel

And me him n u went to the same school.

This ain't cool, I'm in a rage, he tappin my mom

Were almost the same age

On the microphone I drop bombs

Look at this car, thanks a lot moms!

"Here happy birthday rabbit

Here's a brand new car, u can have it"

a 1928 delta. this shit wont even get me to the shelter.

And I cant even say I'm from Motown.

Cause I'm back in the 8-1-0 now

Cuz I live at home in a trailer,

Mom I'm commin' home to you,

 

Your style is generic

Mines authentic made

I roll like a renegade

You need clinic aid

My technique is bizarre and ill;

I scar and kill

You were a star until I served you like a bar and grill

As I proceed to cook and grill ya

That’s all that took to kill ya

You better recognize me like I look familiar

You want to battle

You beat around the bush

Like you're scared to lick pussy so you eat around the tush

I need a clown to push

Someone that I can bully

Wait a minute I don’t think you understand fully

See me without a style

Is like mustard without the Hienz’s

I lead the new school

You a BUSTA without the RHYMES

I crush the shit out your lines

 

Ok folks enough with the gay jokes

Especially from a gay broke bitch yourself, hey lo'

This guy's a doo-doo

You've worked here longer than me

And I get paid more then you do

Dawg, take a seat

What’s this guy standing in line for? He ain’t got money to eat !

Check this out yo yo

This guy cashed his whole check and bought one ho-ho

Fucking homo, little maggot

You can’t hack it

Paul’s gay, you're a faggot

At least he admits it. Don’t even risk it

This guy's starvin' to death, someone get him a biscuit!

I don’t know what they told you Mike

You must had them cornrows rolled too tight

This job, you wanna quit but you can’t

You’ve worked at this plant so long, you're a plant

Look at your god damn boots

For christ sakes they’re starting to grow roots

On this mic you get faded

You look like a pissed off rapper who never made it

And why you fucking with the gay guy, G?

When really you're the one who's got the HIV

Man, I’m done with this clown, he's soft

Fuck it, I’ll let homegirl finish you off

 

This guy raps like his parents jerked him

He sounds like Eric Sermon, the generic version

This whole crowd looks suspicious

Its all dudes in here, except for these bitches

So Im a German, Eh

Thats ok, you look like a fuckin worm with braids

These Leaders of the Free World rookies

Lookie, how can 6 dicks be pussies

Talkin bout shits creek

Bitch, you could be up piss creek

With paddles this deep

Your still gonna sink

Your a disgrace

Yeah, they call me Rabbit

This is a turtle race

He can't get with me spittin this shit

Wickedly lickety shot

Spickety spickety split lickety

So Im gonna turn around with a great smile

And walk my white ass back across 8 mile!

 

Ward, I think you were a little hard on the Beaver

So was Eddie Haskal, Wally, and Ms. Cleaver

This guy keeps screamin', he's paranoid!

Quick, someone get his ass another steriod!

"Blahbity bloo blah blah blahbity bloo blah!"

I ain't hear a word you said, "hipidy hooblah!"

Is that a tank top, or a new bra?

Look, Snoop Dogg just got a fuckin' boob job!

Didn't you listen to the last round, meat head?

Pay attention, you're sayin the same shit that he said!

Matter fact, dog, here's a pencil

Go home, write some shit, make it suspenseful,

And don't come back until something dope hits you

Fuck it! You can take the mike home with you!

Lookin' like a cyclone hit you,

Tank top screamin', "Lotto, I don't fit you!"

You see how far those white jokes get you

Boy's like "How Vanilla Ice gonna diss you?"

My motto: Fuck Lotto!

I get the 7 digits from your mother for a dolla tomorrow

Now everybody from the 313

Put your motherfucking hands up and follow me

Everybody from the 313

Put your motherfucking hands up

Look Look

 

Now while he stands tough

Notice that this man did not have his hands up

This free world got you gased up

Now who's afraid of the big bad wolf

1, 2, 3 and to the 4

1 pac , 2 pac, 3 pac, 4

4 pac, 3 pac, 2 pac, 1

You're pac, he's pac, no pacs, none

This guy ain't no mother-fucking MC,

I know everything he's got to say against me,

I am white, I am a fucking bum, I do live in a trailer with my mom,

My boy Future is an Uncle Tom.

I do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob who shoots

himself in the leg with his own gun,

I did get jumped by all 6 of you chumps

And Wink did fuck my girl,

I'm still standing here screaming "FUCK THE FREE WORLD!"

Don't ever try to judge me dude

You don't know what the fuck I've been through

But I know something about you

You went to Cranbrook, that's a private school

What's the matter dawg? You embarrassed?

This guy's a gangster? he's real name's Clarence

And Clarence lives at home with both parents

And Clarence's parents have a real good marriage

This guy don't wanna battle, He's shook

'Cause there no such things as half-way crooks

He's scared to death

He's scared to look in his fucking yearbook, fuck Cranbrook

Fuck the beat, I go acapella

Fuck a papa doc, fuck a clock, fuck a trailer, fuck everybody

Fuck y'all if you doubt me

I'm a piece of fucking white trash, I say it proudly

And fuck this battle, I don't wanna win, I'm outty,

Here, tell these people something they don't know about me.