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[chorus: eminem]
this kind of music, use it, and you get amped to do sh-t
whenever you hear some sh-t and you can’t refuse it
it’s just some sh-t, for these kids, to trash they rooms with
just refuse whenever they asked to do sh-t
the type of sh-t that you don’t have to ask who produced it
you just know – that’s the new sh-t
the type of sh-t that causes m-ss confusion
and drastic movement of people actin stupid

[kon artis]
i come to every club with intention to do harm
with a prosthetic arm and smelling like boone’s farm
hiding under tables as soon as i hear alarms
paranoid thief that’ll steal from his own moms
conniving kon, artis with a bomb
strapped to my stomach screaming, “let’s get it on!”
a lush that love to drink, drunk driving a tank
rollin over a bank, cops see me and faint
it’s drastic, i’m past my limit of c-ke
i think i’ll up my high by slitting your throat
push your baby carriage into the street, ’til it’s mince meat
your mens been beat the minute i step onto your street
this is fight music!

[bizarre]
you know why my hands are so numb? (no)
cause my grandmother sucked my d-ck and i didn’t c-m (oh)
smacked this wh-r- for talking cr-p (b-tch)
so what if she’s handicapped, the b-tch said bizarre couldn’t rap
i f-cking hate you; i’ll take your drawers down and rape you
while dr. dre videotapes you (h-ll yeah!)
satan done got me on this song
eating a hot dog reading the holy qu’ran, while i’m on the john
tired of wearing this yellow thong
take it back sisqo, you know where it belongs (thong th-thong thong)
now here’s a gun, i’ll put it in your palm
now go over there and blow up dru hill’s arms
f-ck your love songs

[chorus]

[proof]
just bring who you gon’ bring on, who you gon’ swing on?
i’m king kong, guns blow you to king-dom come
show you machine gun funk
sixteen m-16’s and one pump [click-clack]
the snub in my paw, shove it in your jaw
have you running out this f-cking club in your drawers
we loving the broads, there’s nothing to applaud
but f-ck it it’s all good, the hood is up in the source
it’s fight music

[swifty mcvay]
i’m a n-gg- that loves scuffles
and won’t hesitate to sock you again for swollen knuckles
i’m like that, catch a n-gg- like bear traps
blow his head back right in front of the precinct saying, “you hear that?”
i slap your freak, b-mp you and won’t speak
if you step on my feet, you get drowned in your own drink
i suffocated my shrink just for talking
came back and f-cked up his pallbearers and made ’em drop his coffin
it’s fight music!

[kuniva]
these beads i’m swinging is stinging ’em
see all these n-gg-z? when i step in the club, i’m bringing ’em
if any n-gg- looking too hard, we rodney king’n ’em
malice green to them and gasolinin ’em with premium
light a cigarette, flick it at ’em or spit it at ’em
hold up a picture of his family and kick it at him
blast while you right hooking, right when your wife’s looking
f-ck fight music, b-tch this is losing your life music!

[eminem]
if i could capture the rage of today’s youth and bottle it
crush the gl-ss from my bare hands and swallow it
then spit it back in the faces of you racists
and hypocrites who think the same sh-t but don’t say sh-t
you liberace’s, versace’s, and you n-z-s
watch me, cause you thinking you got me in this hot seat
you motherf-ckers wanna judge me cause you’re not me
you’ll never stop me, i’m top speed as you pop me
i came to save these new generations of babies
from parents who failed to raise ’em cause they’re lazy
to grow to praise me i’m makin ’em go crazy
that’s how i got this whole nation to embrace me
and you fugazi if you think i’ma admit wrong
i cripple any hypocritic critic i’m sic’d on
and this song is for any kid who gets picked on
a sick song to retaliate to, and it’s called..

[chorus]

it’s fight music!

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