Outro (the 18th Letter) by Rakim
[gun cocked back]
[Eminem]
Nah, we ain't done [echo]
I love bein hated, it great it
Let's me know that I made it
I wouldn't have it no other way
I wouldn't trade it for the world
Only let's me know that I'm loved
By so many other motherfuckers that ain't you
And as long, as you keep fuckin with us, we keep fuckin you up
And keep pullin the rug from up under you
And what's ever more fucked up, is we enjoy what were doin
So much there ain't nothin that we love more than +Pullin Your Skirts Up+
And exposin you hoes so much, people are startin to wonder
Do unto others of you will have done under you
What's up with them fuckin one dough a man under-els
So who the fuck you motherfuckers gonna run to
Didn't enter that last round that he had in Curtis Jackson's ass while he had the chance
When someone runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you [gun cocks]
You keep askin us to keep it on wax but we can't
You will ask youself, how come your mans
This is past any irrationalization
We have captured national media attention
Conversation is senseless, you can sense the tension start buildin
Soon as we enter the '106th & Park' building
Someone's gonna get killed and I swear to God
If someone so much as even touches one of my people
And you ain't got the funds to match or counteract it
I'll put a million on his head
But I'd rather rap than get into this gangsta shit
And it ain't because I'm a bitch
It's because I ain't a bitch, I don't endanger people that I'm with
I'm a general, I ain't Bush, I don't send my soldiers to war
I'm right there in the middle of the shit with 'em, so when I do get 'em
Orders to storm your headquarters, you'll be fuckin with a .
[Swifty McVay]
Fuckin with a peacekeeper, see you the nigga that greet this lyrical meat cleaver
That I eat ya, niggaz wanna keep speakin, like it ain't even that deep
I got heat that'll sweep a niggaz street [explosion]
See I wouldn't fuck with me neither, only heaven can help ya
I'll be searchin for you longer than the "Legend of Zelda"
Body, when I hide ya, I be on that mob shit
Without a failure, there's gonna be hell to tell the
Captain that a bassett hound couldn't even smell ya
You get bombed like Lebanon [explosion] with my own tactic
You another Hoffa, under the Renaissance bitch
I snatch your head like one of Saddam's kids
[Obie Trice]
Motherfucker, I'll handle you
We can have it out on any Avenue
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