Eminem, Proof - Pick It Up (Freestyle) lyrics

Yo yo, back again ha ha ha (Agh)
Turn it up a little bit
Pick it up pick it up
Yo pick it up, pick it up yo pick it up
If you find a phone call
In a Tim Westwood line
What the hell you gonna do?
Pick it up! Pick it up!

If your ball falls out with
A pad on the floor
What the hell you gonna do?
(Pick it up! Pick it up)

While I'm smacking up girls to
Keep the hoes in check
The double S-Slim Shady wreck the London set
Sit back and relax while
My squad smokes crack
And tap your man back and be like
(Did you see that?) ah yes
Coming from the mother freaking Midwest
Lift your shirt up and let
Me see them big breasts
We molest girls three times a day
Three times a night
I got G-fulls of criminal peoples
Jumping out when we ten deep
Beat you down and speed off in a Benz Jeep
Brothers be like: Eminem changed
His style up!
Shut the hell up, I'm still seven miles slut!
It's '97 so get with it
Peep that back in the day stuff
When that Infinite tape was hitting
Listen, must we forget
I originated all that rough shit
That talk drug shit
That left motherfuckers who said
Our sound like
Detroit city is where I grew up bitch
Peace to all my Outsidaz in Jers
Forget what you heard
This is three and one third

If you got an STD and your
Penis falls on the floor
(What the hell you gonna do?)
Pick it up! Pick it up!
(Ahhh yeah, yeah, yeahhh pick it up
Pick it up) if you see a Slim Shady
Tape on the fucking rack
What does Dre do? (ooohhhh)
(On the uckin rack, on the uck without the f)

I get deaf MCees stepped to the left
I bust MCees and my name is Wyclef
How you doing? I play the banjo
Piano whatever it is I
Rock like Barry Manilow
Yo it's Slim Shady on the freaking deck
Y'all don't check it out I
Wreck the Frim Shady set
The Frim Shady is what I
Said because I'm freaking drunk
I pick it up, pick it up, I sound like a punk

Ayo they wish that they could ban me black
Yo, you standing back
Def methods, ayo got my hand in that
Who ever running it
Ayo you get a jammed knee cap
Make the healthiest in your fam, handicap
You a fan of rap, my clan
Will tap your school, home, ya bitch house
Pull my nine millie
You gonna die with your fist out
Enemas is over with venomous is cobra spit
Aggressive dialect with aggressive
Sober pitch
My bionic phonics, demolish your logic
Demonic can't stand the chronic impossible
To hold on like vomit
Mics I palm it, cause they the bomb-it
Like terrorist is Islamic
I enter your atmosphere like a comet
The new god of rap, call me bigger Thor
Snap your back when I slap your
Ass in a figure four
From miles around they can feel us lethal
I make hardcore groups like Wu Tang
Sound like the village people (haha)
Be no sequel, of the energize, finish
Style, bust 'em down right now
The winner is me
Then my man Mr paul we gonna star
Make your heart beat for your
Trying get down with us
We ball to the end, it's time to pretend
My friend to the left of me, the death of me
Me recipe to be with this
Don't even test MCees
Y'all can't get with us it's the dress
Dress on ya