(First Battle) (Lickety Split) Check this out Check this out
Yo, this guys a choke-artist Ya catch a bad one Ya better off shootin ya-self wit Popa Doc's handgun Climbin up this mountain, ya weak I leave ya lost witout a paddle, floatin shit's creek You ain't Detroit, I'm the D You tha new kid on the block, bout to get smacked back to the boone-docks Fuckin Nazi, this crowd ain't ya type Take some real advice And form a group with Vanilla Ice And what I tell ya Ya better use it This guy's a hillbilly this ain't Willie Nelson music Trailer trash I choke ya till ya last breath And have ya lookin foolish like Cheddar Bob when he shot his-self Silly Rabbit, I know why they call you that Cuz you follow Future, like he got carrots up his asscrack And when you act it up, that's when you got jacked up And left stupid like Tina Turner when she got smacked up I crack ya shoulderblade You'll get dropped so hard that Elvis will start turnin in his grave I don't know why they left you out in the dark Ya need to take your white ass back across 8 Mile to the trailer park (Crowd Cheers)
(Rabbit/Eminem) This guy raps like his parents jerked him He sounds like Eric Sermon The generic version This whole crowd looks suspicious It's all dudes in here Except for these bitches So I'm a German ay? That's 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 shit's creek, bitch you can be a piss creek Wit paddles this deep Ya still gonna sink Your a disgrace Ya they call me Rabbit This is a turtle race He can't get wit me spittin this shit Wickedy Lickety shot Spicious spickety split Lickety So I'ma turn around wit a great smile And walk my white ass back across 8 Mile (Crowd cheers)
(2nd Battle) (Lotto) We rollin muthafuckaz What's goin on baby? Yo it's time to get rid of this coward right here once and for all Sick of this muthafucka (Rip it Lotto, rip it baby rip it, yeah) Check this shit out
Huhhh huhhh I'll spit a racial slur honkey sue me This shit is a horror flick But a black guy doesn't die in this movie Fuckin wit Lotto dog you gotta be kiddin That makes me believe, you really don't have an interest in livin You think these niggas gone feel the shit you say? I got a better chance joinin the KKK On some real shit though, I like you That's why I didn't wanna have to be the one you commit suicide to Fuck Lotto? Call me ya leader I feel bad that I gotta murder that dude from Leave It To Beaver I used to like that show Noe you got me in fightback mode But oh well if ya gotta go then ya gotta go I hate to do this I would love for this shit to last So I'll take pictures of my rear end so you won't forget my ass And alls well that ends ok So I'll end this shit Wit a fuck you, but, have a nice day (Crowd cheers)
(Rabbit/Eminem) 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 steroid! Blabbedy bloom blah, blum blabbedy bloom blah I ain't hear a word you said, hibitit hoopla! Is that a tanktop or a new bra? Look, Snoop Dogg, just got a fuckin boob job Did you listen to the last round meathead? Pay attention, ya sayin the same shit that he said (I'ma fuck you up) Matta fact dog, here's a pencil Go home, write some shit, make it suspenseful And don't come back until somethin dope hits you Fuck it You can take the Mic home wich you Lookin like a cyclone hit you Tanktop screamin, "Lotto I don't fit you" You see how far them white jokes get you Boys like, how Vanilla Ice gone diss you? My motto: Fuck Lotto I get the 7 digits from ya mother for a dollar tomorrow
(3rd Battle) (Rabbit/Eminem) Now everybody from the 3-1-3 Put ya muthafuckin hands up and follow me Everybody from the 3-1-3 Put ya muthafuckin hands up Look look
Now while he stands tough Notice that this man did not have his hands up This Free World's got ya gased up Now who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf 1, 2, 3 and to the 4 1pac, 2pac, 3pac, 4 4pac, 3pac, 2pac's, 1 Your Pac, he's Pac, No Pac's, None This guy aint no muthafuckin MC I know everything he's got to say against me I am white I am a fuckin bum I do live in the trailer wit my mom My boy future is an Uncle Tom I do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob who shoots himself in his leg with his own gun I did get jumped By all 6 of you chumps And Wink did fuck my girl I'm still standin here screamin fuck the Free World! Don't ever try to judge me dude Cuz you don't know what the fuck I been through But I know somethin about you You went to Cranbrook, that's a private school What's the matter dog you embarrassed? This guys a gangster? His real name's Clarence And Clarence lives at home with both parents And Clarence parents have a real good marriage This guy don't wanna battle, he's shook Cuz ain't no such things as Half Way Crooks! He's scared to death He's scared to look At his fuckin yearbook Fuck Cranbook Fuck a beat, I go acapella Fuck a Popa Doc, fuck a clock, fuck a trailer fuck everybody Fuck yall if you doubt me, I'ma piece of fuckin white trash I say it proudly And fuck this battle I don't wanna win, I'm outtie Here, tell these people somethin they don't know about me (Crowd cheers)
(Papa Doc) (Hands mic to Future...nothing comes to mind for Doc to say back at Rabbit.)
Membros
Eminem / Hip Hop
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