Session One

[Intro: Eminem]
Ladies and gentlemen, make some noise!
Aw, shit! Yeah
You ready to get this shit started or what? A'ight
Well, I brought some friends with me too

[Verse 1: Eminem]
Now I ain't back just for the sake of just sayin', “I'm back”
I could relax, but I'd rather stack ammo on tracks
Couple Xanax, light a couple wax candles, then black-
-out and relapse 'til I yack Jack Daniels and 'gnac
Burp bubbles, attitude's immaturin', double
Shot of Bacardi, party, vision is blurrin'—woah-ho
I can't see shit, my words get to slurrin'—uh-oh!
You can call me R. Kelly now, you're in trouble!
What's occurrin' before, after, and durin' the show
Has no bearin' on the bad news I'm bearin', woah
What is it, wordplay? No, I'm pushin' you out the do'
So, suck my dick on the couch if you wanna cushion the blow
Now stomp your fuckin' feet 'til you get to squishing a ho
It's pandemo-nium, standing o when you see him, oh
Damn, baby, you look good, you're givin' me wood
You should pull over like a sweatshirt with a hood
It's neck work, get our polly on, you and me, both
Break bread while I'm coppin' over this game to pinch a loaf
Now, homie, who's your favorite pain in the ass? Who claims to be
Spittin' the same flames as me? I'm Kanye when he crashed
In other words, I got the hood on smash, like I stepped on the gas
Destroyed the front end, deployed the damn airbags from the dash
Went through 'em and laughed, came back an hour after the accident
And bit a goddamn Jawbreaker in half!
So stop fakin' the funk and start shakin' your ass
Slaughterhouse in the house with the Caucasian of rap
And Just Blaze on the track, what the fuck's more amazin' than that
Slut? Answer me that! Royce, where you at?

[Verse 2: Royce da 5’9”]
I'm right here, Fire Marshall, verbal pair of pliers, I pry apart you
Lump on your head designed by a barstool
Designed by a cartoon
Before I need to be hired, Jimmy, I'll fire Marshall
The 9 tucked against the linin'
I pull it out and flip your partner upside-down like y'all are a couple 69ing
It's like Rick James is shootin' up your house, nigga!
Fuck your couch, nigga!
You screamin', “Fuck the world!” with your middle finger up
While I'm over here shovin' my dick in a hole in the mud
My bitch know, I'm perfectly fit for murder
Because I murdered her, so you can call me Nicole to O. J. to Glove
I got a posse of insane clowns
Blow your brains on your opposite ear and ask you how your brain sounds
Bad, Evil, we go Alfred E. Neumann
Mad cerebral, you on your last burrito!
(What that mean, Nickel?) It's a wrap if you eatin'
Get a beat, then terrorize that bitch like I'm Middle Eastern
Slaughterhouse on fire, nobody touchin' that
Good day and good night! Ortiz, yo, where the fuck you at?

[Verse 3: Joell Ortiz]
I'm right here in my Nike Airs, Buzz Light-years
Ahead of my mic peers, quite scary to look at, a nightmare
Where my book at? I'll write fear in the heart of you tight squares
I harbor the art of you nice wear
It's type weird 'cause that made me hotter than my dear
Uncle Al's breath after polishin' off his ninth beer
Homie, chill, listen, I swear
I'm god, I give tracks a Holy-feel, and they bite ears
I'm right here, why wouldn't I be? Just waiting to be hooked to IV
As Mumm-Ra's well, when you look at my pee
And this joint (No exception), so just point (A direction)
And record the pig's oink (When I rip his intestines)
This isn't just an infection
This won't go away with penicillin injections
Millions of questions arose after they did an inspection, what I exhibit (What?)
Seems to be non-contagious yet anybody can get it
Oh, I shid-dit, I did it again, when I lid-dift this pen
I emitted this phlegm, this time it's alongside Ede-minem
So, tell a friend to tell a friend write a disgusting hook
Jump in shark water and swim! Yo, where the fuck is Crook?

[Verse 4: Crooked I]
I'm right here, lettin' the shotty pop, quick as a karate chop
Get your body shot, get your top chopped, like a lollipop
Call it “Maserati drop”, in the body shop
Get your mommy knocked and your Uncle Tommy molli-wopped
I take your life to the ninth innin'
A knife in the gunfight, I love it, me and my knife winnin'
I laugh, when you fall, the shit'll be funny
I'll buy my bitch a new ass and watch her sit on my money
Man, all the bitches holla—they wanna drop my britches
Then jaw on my dick and swallow, leave drawers in this Impala
I ball like Iguodala, I bear more arms than six koalas
As soon as I draw, get sent to Allah
Bi-linguist don, I kill with the tongue, I'm Atilla the Hun
I'm Genghis Khan, I'm a genius spawn
I pillage your village for fun, an egregious con
A syllable gun, real as they come, Long Beach Saddam!
Slaughterhouse equals swine flu, are South flying
We do it to try to do without tryin' (Slaughterhouse!)
'Cause to it's us it's so easy
Where's "Jumpoff" Joe Beezy?