Bizarre, Eminem, D12 - On Edge lyrics

I rap, like I got a chip on my shoulder
This ain't no chip
This is a 15 pound boulder
Practicing yoga, meditatin’ on death
Bottle of Vicodin ‘till ain't nothing left
I got an Idea lets
Play butt naked hokey-pokey
Cut off the lights
Listen to Esham and hold me (yeah)
Damn my neighbor is nosey, close the blinds
This kid ain't ten, he’s barely nine
Nice behind damn, I'm talkin' about a kid
I'm talkin' about rapes
I'm talkin' about a bed
Mia, my wife's Spanish she’s been
Fuckin’ from the back
I'm in the other room tongue-kissing the cat
"Damn, this is one sick motherfucker (Aha)
He talks about rape and
He’ll tongue-kiss your brothеr" (Damn)
Rape your grandma in the ass and I put a plug


Hide out for 30 days and wait
For hеr period to come (yeah)
30th day I beat her ass for nothing
Bitch is 65 years old
That period ain't comin'
I'm a Lutheran, a catholic
A Jehovah witness, a baptist
A Muslim, I’m a faggot, Go-Go Gadget!

Kickin' down your door with a 44 matic
And the size will make you shake
Like a know dope addict
Turn a robbery into something more tragic
"Don't shoot
Here's my watch it's all Rolls gold have it"
Bitch! I coined the phrase "I'm goin' in"
Your mom insisting play the game
The first tongue on my dong wins
They says the Dozen was slippin'
Yo how'd you figure that
Slap the drool out of your mouth
Tell you to spit a rap
Breakin every bone in your hand
Homie Twitter that i am like a Chinese chef
The way I'm killin cats
See a fool screamin at his caddy
And then I prop it up
Get the kinda stuff that make
Your toilet keep stoppin' up
We cannot stop the cuts after I
Tie you in a chair
And grab the Ginsu knives
Now we can chop it up
I'll take it easy if your chick's pregnant
I'll wait until your kid's stretchin then
Sock him in his midsection (ah)
Don't ever try to slug me
I'll leave the back of your head bloody
So when you wipe it looks
Like you're doin' the Dougie
So don't trust me, I'm grimy and unlucky
Voice mails from your bitch like, "Kuniva
Come fuck me!" gritty, know every nook and
Cranny of the city
Bullet for every fool that Mr t pitied
I smell pussy and I don't see titties
Cash buried underground, Dirty Money, P diddy
Shifty off the remmy or the Henny
Hit your Bentley I'm simply demandin
And I'm never fuckin bitches gently
Gang around
All up in the crib pistol hangin out
(sup bitch) likes the way I rhyme and I love
The way she slang her mouth

(You're on fire)
That's how you know you're on a roll
'Cause when you're hot it's like you're
Burning up everyone else's cold
(You're on fire) man, I'm so fuckin' sick
I got ambulances pullin' me over and shit
(You're on fire)
You need to stop, drop, and roll
'Cause when you say the shit to get
The whole Hip-Hop shop to blow
(You're on fire) yeah (You're on fire) Yuh

If you say that you hungry
Then I ain't concerned
Unless you came in this game with a tapeworm
The phantom of Hip-Hop
Cause this is the doctrine of a madman
And I'm assassinating doctors
No shot treatment is needed
I'm up in the hospital
Weeded with bloody orthopedics
I'm giving it to innocent people
That don't need it
And I'm exporting you niggas without a heater
Keep them breathin' nut there's none worthy
If I ain't out murkin' motherfuckers
I'm cold turkey or worst thing since Percy
When I was younger
My momma placed me in the dirty nursery
That's why they labeled me a cursed beast
I'm blood-thirsty
I pop up, unexpectedly like a herpe
I murder you for dirt, cheap
Open up that door like Lurch
And I'm murk the first nigga that I see
When I guillotine, I slit a niggas brain
And slit it till you get rap and signature
My name
The pinnacle of insane, my genitals remain
Bigger then a Afro-Puffs, on cranium arrange
Shit, it's normal till I end with a gauge
Cut your life short
Like an editor with blades
I'm a predator, infrared up in the trees
When I conversate I'll be shootin'
More in a breeze
I breath bitches to their knees
Givin' them stitches with a rusted
Needle and barb wires
Sealin' their lips I'm justa'
Opposite of narcoleptic i breathe darkness
Sleepwalker tearing the tees
Off these hawkers
I throw you hoes in the ocean
And seen it to souls that the
Air force is exploding with seahorses
Like me, my sorcerist is talking bitchy
This ain't Pulp Fiction
My addiction is torture methods

I just put a bullshit hook
In between two long-ass verses
If you mistook this for a song, look
This ain't a song
It's a warning to Brooke Hogan and David Cook
That the crook just took over, so book
Run as fast as you can
Stop writing and kill it
I'm lightning in a skillet
You're a fuckin' flash in the pan i pop up
You bitches scatter like hot
Grease splashing a fan
Mr mathers is the man, yeah, I'm pissed
But I would rather take this energy
And stash it in a can
Come back and whip your ass with it again
Saliva's like sulfuric acid in your hand
It'll eat through anything, metal
The ass of Iron Man turn him into plastic
So for you to think that you could
Stand a fuckin' chance is asinine
Yeah, ask Denaun, man
Hit a blind man with a coloring book
And told him color inside the lines or
Get hit with a flying crayon
Fuck it, I ain't playin', pull up in a van
And hop out on a homeless
Man holding a sign sayin'
"Vietnam vet", I'm out my fuckin' mind, man
Kick over the can, beat his ass
And leave him nine grand
So if I seem a little mean to you
This ain't savage
You ain't never seen a brute
You wanna get graphic
We can go the scenic route
You couldn't make a bulimic puke
On a piece of fuckin' corn and peanut poop
Sayin' you sick, quit playin', you prick
Don't nobody care
And why the fuck am I yellin' at air?
I ain't even talkin' to no one
'cause ain't nobody there
And nobody will fuckin' test me
'Cause these hoes won't even dare
I'm wasting punchlines
But I got so many to spare
I just thought of another one
That might go here
Nah, don't waste it, save it, psycho yeah
Plus you got to rewrite those lines
That you said about Michael's hair (Whoops)

(You're on fire)
That's how you know you're on a roll
'Cause when you're hot it's like you're
Burning up everyone else's cold
(You're on fire) man, I'm so- I'm so hot
My motherfuckin' firetruck's on fire, homie
(You're on fire)
You need to stop, drop, and roll
'Cause when you say the shit to get
The whole Hip-Hop shop to blow
(You're on fire) yeah
Oh, shit (You're on fire)

Married to game a benevolent groom
Bachelor party
Arranged shoot up the reverend in June
Reference the goons
You have to give the elephants room
Run shit from the elegant room
To the president's tomb
D12, one plus eleven is noon
Make a community feel like
Heaven's sent to them
And if I have to get my intelligence room
Be at your residence soon
Guns on me lookin like an evidence room
And that fit's range, that python
That shit snapped bones
You'd rather be shot with
It than bitch-smacked holmes
After dark DJ's will put your kid raps on
But for that young money my nigga
You'll get kidnapped holmes
After triple-countin the bread you
Can get back home
Collect the ransom, told my driver
"Take this bitch back home"
Conversation's recorded, gotta get that phone
It's got valuable information on
The bricks' that's flown
The confidential on hoes and
The dicks' that's blown
D12, the reason ya girl done
Bring a thick ass home
And I need help on the bitches
Gotta get back home
So they won't be asking "When
Will you get back home?"
I call yo bitch like "Bitch, come
And pick this bitch up, "
Got her on speed dial
She used to come and get this dick up
She call like "You have a few minutes
To come and get this quick nut?"
I have a few second ma
I can get come and get this dick sucked

Fuzz Scoota! Newest member of D12
What Up! We Back Mutherfuckers!
D12