Love Me
[Obie Trice]Niggas, I'm still grinding (yeah), I still hearing those sirensI'm still getting chased by those lightsOnly the light's lime, and my mic's onAnd my time is none, because I'm writing moreAnd I ain't here to meet a soul in this businessI'm here to eat, speak, until these ho's feel thisI ain't gonna let you derail me, manI got Young Kobie homey, you gotta let go of ObieCause Obie be back, (going nowhere, man) we got them craps going onAnd that yac going on, soon as a nigga touch down, back from touringIt's forever, put that on the cheddar, manBut in the meantime, it's Jimmy Iovine timeChase cheese, rhyme 'til my voice give outThis is it my niggas, this what we boast aboutNow I'm here, so shut your motherfucking mouth, and show me love, bitch
[Hook]I just wanna love ya, for the rest of my life (I don't love you, bitch)I wanna hold you in the mornin, hold you through the night(Right we wanna love alcohol, we wanna love guns, we wanna love moneyWe don't love no bitches, though)I just wanna love, for the rest of my lifeI wanna hold you in the mornin, hold you through the night
[Eminem]There's a certain mystique when I speak, that you noticeCause it's sort of unique cause you know it's meMy poetry's deep, and I'm stillmatic, the way I flow to this beatYou can't sit still, it's like trying to smoke crack and go to sleepI'm strapped, it's known any minute I could snapI'm the equivalent of what would happen if Bush rappedI bully these rappers so bad lyricallyIt ain't even funny, I ain't even hungry, it ain't even moneyYou can't pay me enough for you to play meIt's cockamanie you just ain't zany enough to rock with ShadyMy noodle is cock-a-doodle, my clock's coo-cooI got screws loose, yea the whole kit and caboodle, I'm just brutalIt's no rumor, I'm numero uno, assume itThere's no more humor in it, you knowI'm rolling with a swollen bowling ball in my bagYou need a fag to come and tear a near hole in my ass, you better love me, bitch
[Hook]
[50 Cent]My buzz is crazy in the hood, they holla my nameIf it ain't about the flow, it's 'bout the stones and the chainIf I was you, I'd love me too, I roll like a bossNine eleven Porsche same color as cranberry sauceI ain't gon' front, I thought R. Kelly was the shitLet me find out he fucking 'round with Bow Wow bitchNiggas eating popcorn right, rewinding the tapeNow shorty mama in precinct, hollering rapeI'm convinced, man, something really wrong with these ho'sI thought Lil' Kim was hot, 'til she start fucking with her noseI used to listen to Lauryn Hill, and tap my feetThen the bitch put out a CD and didn't have no beatsThat boy D'Angelo, he determined not to failThat nigga went butt-ass, for his record to sellMy back shots 'll help Ashanti hit them high notesAnd Big Ben taught Charli B'More to deep throat (yea)
[Hook]