Categorie: Eminem

Adrenaline Rush

Eminem

Get the fuck up, muthafucka

Ayo, when I step up in the bar everybody hit the fuckin’ floor
Lucky mothafuckas make it to the door
Cause when I spit on mic’s I spit raw
Which cause confusion from the bar to the dance floor
I keep the club owner vexed
Cause he gotta pay me when I spit plus replace a lotta shit
Niggas get to wilding
When my words echoes the room like (Get your hand out my pockets)
You sock shit while my topics rocking
I’m banned from clubs cause of my toxic tonsils
Loud speaking like a fuckin’ sports announcer
I spit the Blaha ‘til you rush the bouncer
Or rush the mothafucka in your way who’s bouncing
You know O. Trice get the gats pronouncing

Get live mothafucka when I speak mothafucka
Out your seat mothafucka, I’mma reach mothafuckas
Shady Records until I sleep, mothafucka
Obie Trice, nothing but street, muthafucka
Tear this bitch up ‘til you bleed, mothafucka
I wouldn’t give a fuck who you be, mothafucka
Punk, pussy, bitch or G, mothafucka
Adrenaline rush before you leave, mothafucka

When I speak I blow out your tweeters, a dog
Show out with speakers, roll out with heaters
I’m just a animal eating the game
Jump a monkey, fuck yeah, Obie’s the name
I roll solo never been a ho, though
Keep gats vocal when cats act loco
Where you at when I’m moving the crowd
You get trampled, mashed on Detroit style
Up out your seats, pump out the E’s
Up the beats, the crowd “Obie, please”
Where my niggas at, smoking them trees
Off the cognac finger fucking a skeez
That’s how it is when you party with me
You don’t like it? You L7 like a square be

And since I came, I’ve rearranged the place with blaze
Stage dive with Colt Seavers, DNA
I’m so addicted to getting niggas lifted
Drunk off the liquid, O. Trice, the misfit
Dousing the crowd with piss and bile
We underground, mothafucka fix your frown
I be the boy with the whiskey toy
Offa whiskey, you never been to skeet before
So, throw up your hands and peep out your man’s
When I come through, next quarter Trice intervene use
And trust, I’m attacking it
I cook up the hot shit like Ainsley Harriott
That’s why I’m so miraculous and Obie gets you niggas pumped up
I’ll see you next coliseum, chump
That’s right, it’s your Obie Trice fucked up off E’s and weed