INTRO (Eminem, Mr. Porter & Tim Westwood):

Yo blast me off, Tim Where's that boom? Blast me off, son The bombs man! Right now, we're doin' this for Beijing, baby, understand how it's goin' down That's how he talk Blastin' off right now, son Real big. Real legendary up in the game. Drippin' in swagger juice. We ready to go in this? Yeah, yeah, yeah yeah Are we swaggered up? Swaggered up, yeah, check somebody's swag Let's do it, baby. Radio 1, Westwood, sample's about to go down Check my swag Eminem. Kon, baby. Alchemist. We're doin' it like this. Let's go, baby Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah A'ight, a'ight, look

PLAYS ("Respect My Conglomerate" by Busta Rhymes):FIRST VERSE (Eminem):

I wasn't born mean, I was pushed to treachery I walk the streets lookin' for some puss to fetch me I'm like a veggie, brain is turned to mush, I'm edgy Edgy enough to give Reggie Bush a wedgie If he don't gimme Kim, things could get messy So pass that ass to me, let me squish the left cheek And press against the right one 'til it's smushed against me And leave a dead body in the woods, the MC With the Christopher Reeve's beef We started off on the wrong foot Or should I say fake leg made outta wood I shouldn't, yes I should Ridin' through the hood, I'm chillin' with Westwood I'm quite mellow, a white fellow My pee is bright yellow, I like Jell-O I'm like, "Hello," to a cute little dyke on the mic I'm kinda like Iron Mike 'cause I bite earlobes

SECOND VERSE (Mr. Porter):

Well, I must must say, well, um (yea) I'm just not gay, well, um, I must must say, um, well, look (Mr Porter son) See I'm the first one to class and the last to leave I mean the first one to leave outta class, believe That I'm a mailbox pimp in my heart 'til I die Even after I'm all gone and my ashes fried Went from an ashy guy, class clown as high To a grown ass man stackin' motherfuckin' paper Runyon Ave.'s the clique, D12's the game We've been spittin' this shit since we was little bébés Gaga goo goo, nana, nani do do, never Word to my homie Em, I'm just too too clever A 4-5 shot'll leave a nigga's face lop-sided The kick from the barrel make you think I'm cock-eyed When I bust it out off in the crowd, niggas start divin' Greg Louganis went over the bar, I ain't lyin' Hot iron lethals, not defyin' a soldier Runyon Ave. soldier equals death when it's over It's none colder than niggas that understand the struggle Apply the street-muscle, we been had to hustle We been had to hustle, we been had to muscle Apply the street hustle, we been had to hustle

THIRD VERSE (Eminem):

Aight, aight Me and Westwood blastin' off, jackin' off In a pair of acid washed bumpin' Asher Roth Cruisin Gratiot 'til I damn near crash the car Tryna smash 'em off on the dash, hit the overpass, went off Over the bridge into oncoming traffic Caused a massive forty-two car pile-up, not a scratch at all Hopped up holdin' an axe and saw Jason mask is off when my face is plastered in tabasco sauce Spittin' flames, kickin' fire out your ass, you little bastard You can pass it on, I'm battery acid, dawg You don't wanna get my ass ticked off I'm harder than playin' basketball when I'm goin' through crack withdrawal Dick so big it's like elastic I tie it in a knot and it looks like Mr. Fantastic Crossed the path of Plastic Man with a drastic force And went spastic, put my penis on classic sports

FOURTH VERSE (Mr. Porter):

Haha, Look, I shoot straight off the hip Trey-eight off the grip See, I ain't fo' that shit I got a fist print fo' yo' lip Lookin' shit is swole up Like the stomach on a fat pregnant bitch And it's evident That I get chips like the president Been a lot'a rules Keep the tools for the haters left Niggas ain't fadin' 'em Seal a crack, do a trim Got a lot of dough but you know I ain't trickin' on 'em Get some head spinnin' on 'em Keep the head spinnin' on 'em See, I ain't diggin' on 'em Keep the head hidden from 'em You know how it go, no dough trickin' on 'em She just wanna blow, see what she can get from 'em But she don't know my name, I'm 'bout the game, I'm pickin' on her Wrist so cold that my left hand's numb as summer I rip a hole 'til she don't want you gettin' on her She makes you wonder if the women even want ya Mr. Porter, keep a ho in order Learned it from my daddy, I teach it to my daughter Ya oughta know the quota of my whole workout I float like Noah and don't know her but the rover bounce, yeah

SPOKEN (Eminem & Mr. Porter):

Yea, ey, let's change that beat homie Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Where's the swag juice, Al? Come on homie Swag drip Swag is drying up right now Where's the swag?

PLAYS ("Microphone" by Slaughterhouse):SPOKEN (Eminem):

Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah A'll right, all right Yeah, yeah, yo

FIFTH VERSE (Eminem):

Once again it's the sinister, cynical, minister Shady Kryptonite to Superman, he's a dentist to Amy Administer of the pain, just finished huffin' the paint And muffled the fumes like it was nothing because it ain't Anything in his way, his enemies he just slays His venom he spray, reaches like beams of energy rays Menacin' stares, he glares makin' the hairs All on the back of your neck stand Like Dracula, yep Spectacular rep, he's a tarantula, gargantuan Yeah, Angela so I command you to start dancin' Part Manson, part Hannibal, part mechanical shark Throwin' animal parts at Scarlett Johansson Enter my gas chamber, ya gangsta, my ass He's got his fangs to your neck, he's set to strangle ya ass, hater You're facin' a task greater, he's chasin' your ass He's got his face in a mask, your blood stains on his glass table

SIXTH VERSE (Mr. Porter):

I'm so obnoxious, open hand slap nigga, you wouldn't See, you couldn't, you went off cryin' like Cuba Gooding I swan dive in your bitch pussy, I call her puddin' She love her some nani, I love the bitch cookin' Scrap back, you niggas weak as Chuck Nevitt I fuck buckin' naked; Jesus piece swing reckless Entrepo-po head honcho, hope you're ready 'fore I pop his ass Nigga, kickin' through your door You send goons to do your work I send goons to mommas in church, I've been a problem since birth Got a middle finger up her skirt I don't ask a bitch on a date, I ask her can I fuck her first See y'all with this Runyon shit I made something out of nothing, I'm a hustler, bitch I keep a nine tucked burnin' up beside of my hip Gotta make a hit for any nigga for fifty thousand chips, bitch

SEVENTH VERSE (Eminem):

I'm checking the exposure of photos of me exposing Myself locked inside of a cozy hotel posing With or without clothing, next to the decomposing Bodies eroding while I'm dozing off overdosing Windows opening-shutting, doors opening-closing I think there's a ghost, too much hydrocodone and codeine I was only s'posed to swallow a half, I took the whole thing I'm not joking, I think I just snorted my nose ring I need a drink, I'm standin' over the sink posing Myself, self-loathing, 'cause I'm on a brink, mostly I don't wanna think, "This will make everything rosy Beverly sings, scream while I'm severing three toesies" Totally frozen while I close in, I'm yodelling Rosey, won't you come out to play Ain’t no sense, wasting time, cutting and pasting headlines In the papers, making shrines of my crimes and capers My words are whirlwinds, I murder my girlfriends Go to Europe and put neurofens in my syrup and stir them You never heard him like this, so don't encourage him The neurosurgeon, coke mirrors, and lyrics worse than The kinda person to get Katie Couric to cursin' Eighty spirits of ladies 'cause Shady murdered the virgins Crazy turn of events and then he emerged Took over the world and reeled in all the children Lured 'em into the building and killed 'em Buried 'em in the mulch and mildew and he will Do what he feels and still can spin Straw into gold like Rumpelstiltskin Cotton to silk, Motrin to Tylenol -- three pills, the Real Slim Shady's entered the building There's nothing but crumbled leaves and Tumbleweeds up in this bitch, Mildrid He's ill with it, he still shouldn't be healed There's no one as sick as he, MC's Will get fricasseed on the grill then (Woah, I like.... Fuck) Right now, building's on fire, fuck you

PLAYS ("Chonkyfire" by OutKast):EIGHTH VERSE (Eminem):

You wanna start with the hook first You wanna start with the...oh I have no idea what I'm doing, I have no idea what I'm doing, but Everybody get up, sit up Christopher They're miserable without you, Superman is a- Live and he's flowin' like the Mystic River Girl, don't act like you've never been kissed before One, two, three, four, five, six, this-a Rhyme is about to hit you right in the kisser How did anybody ever find me? I disa- -ppeared, I was hiding in Freeway's beard, just a Hop, skip and a jump from my skin gushin' Nails into my face that I been pushin' Hellraiser, my face is my pin cushion It's like when I'm on the mic I can squish a Sucker like a vise grip, my pen put ya In the slaughterhouse 'cause your style's been butchered I'll spin chainsaw, take off like the blades on, my brain's on Hyperdrive, someone put the brakes on

CHORUS (Eminem & Mr. Porter):

Here's a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, Bridget Don't try to fidget with it, a-ribbit ribbit I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice Now here's a smidgen, a midget to get your digits Bridget Don't try to fidget with it (Huh-uh), ribbit ribbit I got you slippin' on my swag juice (Yeah), my swag juice I got you slippin' on my swag juice (Okay, look)

NINTH VERSE (Mr. Porter):

I got it figured out now, nigga, see M—my mind's right, money right, can't nobody stoppin' how I get it In hindsight I never should've left where I was livin' I probably wouldn't be gettin' pressed by all these women But then again I wouldn't have met the ones that I was diggin' So now I like to look and talk a lot like She like Lil Kim and Kim and, um, Serena Williams Just like my [?] I'm a regular Charles Dickens Bitch, called me talkin' 'bout she pregnant She praised so I Mannie Fresh'd that ho and left baby I'll never trust her, no, shit Even if she specialize in mouth massagin' my testicles I never trusted her a whole lot, even on the first day we met She's basically gettin' her mouth raped Then turn around and ask me for a kiss, "No, bitch, I'm straight" I never really been concerned with how my own dick taste

PRE (-Chorus: Mr. Porter & Eminem):

I think I'm 'bout to slip on my swag juice I think I'm 'bout to slip on your swag juice Oh no! No, no, don't slip on your swag juice! Yeah, yeah, I think I'm 'bout to slip on my swag juice

CHORUS (Eminem & Mr. Porter):

So here's a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, Bridget Don't try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice I got you slippin' on my swag juice Alright

FIRST VERSE0 (Eminem):

Slim is in the house, simmer down there sister Bound to get you dizzy 'cause he gets as busy as a Bee; baby, you could throw a frisbee in a blizzard He'll catch it in his teeth, what is he? He's a wizard Standin' in the disco with a disco biscuit And I'm pretty sure it isn't Bisquit, is it? Now baby don't forget to bring your lipstick wit' ya I want the kiss 'fore I blow this bitch to smithe- Reens, get the guillotines, this is a situ- Ation that's critical as Dre spins his, uh Turntables and he cuts the record like a scissor Checka-chicky-checka-chicky-checka-checka-chicka We'll wreck it in a second, tell me what the heck is sicker Wait a minute, I just dropped my necklace in the liquor Now baby just to make a little breakfast and it's six o'- -clock in the morning 'less you want to get some dessert

CHORUS (Eminem & Mr. Porter):

Here's a smidgen, a midget to get your Bridgets, digit Don't try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice I got you slippin' on my swag juice I said, here's a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, Bridget Don't try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice I got you slippin' on my swag, my swag juice

OUTRO (, Spoken: Eminem & Tim Westwood):

Yeah, ayo, just so everybody knows, that was a hook that we made on the way to the radio station and we were trying to get it right so we may have fucked it up a couple times or whatever, but this is what we were trying to, like, work out before we came here. Especially for Westwood, man! 'Specially for you, homie! Damn, Eminem, thanks for listening, baby