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funkmaster flex - my words are weapons - eminem & d-12 lyrics

– available only on the european “bonus disc” edition
— originally appeared on “funkmaster flex iv”

[chorus: eminem]
my words are weapons
i use ’em to crush my opponents
my words are weapons
i never show no emotion
my words are weapons
i use ’em to kill whoever’s steppin to me
my words are like weaponry on a record
—–
my words are weapons
i use ’em to crush my opponents
these words are weapons
i never did show no emotion
my words are weapons
i use ’em to kill whoever’s steppin to me
my words are like weaponry on a record

[eminem]
yo, the rage i release on a page
is like a demon unleashed in a cage
lunatic, soon as i hit the stage
my mind is like a f-ckin stick of dynamite
onen i get behind the mic
it’s like the wick is lit you b-tches die tonight
my nine is like a guidin light at night shinin bright
my f-ckin grip is tighter than my wife’s v-g-n-, psych
these c-ck-suckin cops got my smith-n-wesson
i guess it’s time to pick a different weapon, man the sh-t’s depressin
but swift is getting me a new one for a christmas present
(swift: “come on slim, let’s go and teach this f-ckin b-tch a lesson”)
they managed to confiscate the pistol that i brandish
but my plan is to use this bullsh-t to my advantage
shady stay creative baby hold your head up, don’t you let up
one bit on these motherf-ckin suckers you’re a soldier +get up+
stand up for what you believe in, long as you breathin
they jealous of you man that’s the only reason they beefin!

[chorus]

[swifty mcveigh]
it’s that dirty dozen renegade
you done pulled the pin out my grenade
.38’sll move your sh-t up out the way
you n-gg-s wont forget about mcveigh; you got somethin to say?
let it out today or watch these bullets spray
from these ten black fingers huggin these deadly millimeters
that’ll make jeff dahmer’s look like he caught a misdemeanor
see i’m +dirty+, so i ain’t gotta buy a pistol cleaner
an official beater, don’t let me see you with yo’ heater
you gets whipped with it, tell them motherf-ckers swift did it
you packin somethin special in your crib then b-tch get it
i’m physically fitted to run yo’ digits, i’m hostile (uh-huh)
with this roscoe pointed up your nostrils
you get splitted and guess what, i’m blowin up the hospital
and wouldn’t give a f-ck if you a cop or a hoe
i’m hannibal lector, the spinal cord disconnector
findin wh-r-s to lock ’em up in motels to inject ’em

[chorus]

[bizarre]
i’m eatin crews like i’m hannibal
there’s no way i can be the gay rapper
(eminem: why not?) i only f-ck animals (oh! ha-ha)
stupid trick got my d-ck startin to itch
went to my mother’s grave site, called her a stupid b-tch
one on one in this bloodsport
i’m in divorce court, sold my b-tch off a pack of newports
(your honor!) six times i been arrested; how would you feel
if you was a jehovah witness that always got molested?
(it happens) i’m smokin dank drikin drank
i can’t have any kids cause i’m f-ckin shootin blanks!
don’t you know bizarre don’t give a f-ck?!
nicole’s a wh-r- – i’m glad o.j. murdered the sl-t (uhh!)
responsibility – i’m negligent
bill clinton’s a f-g, should be stabbed
let richard simmons be the president (ohh heyy!!)
call me a weirdo, call me bi-zarre
while i stick it up yo’ -ss while you sh-ttin diarrhea

[chorus]

[eminem]
yo!

- funkmaster flex lyrics

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