| [Verse - Trick Trick] | |
| We been the killas with everything | |
| From chest wets | |
| To death treaths | |
| The best yet | |
| And niggas gettin their neck check | |
| Best check to protect | |
| Detroit is only known know | |
| For best threats | |
| So bet | |
| We got decks | |
| And hecks | |
| Collect debt | |
| And rest the goon sqad | |
| We reck your whole set | |
| We rep the midwest | |
| You reppin niggas get wrong | |
| Speak on your songy songs | |
| Sendin them home | |
| Stone sprone | |
| And broken bones | |
| Better leave us the fuckk alone | |
| Keep it runnin thru niggas | |
| Can't even stomach what | |
| The D got comin | |
| Waitin until they frontin and poppin off at the chops boy | |
| We poppin off shots | |
| Guaranteeing a spot at the top | |
| First place for niggas gettin guys who think you fuckkin with trick and eminem | |
| No you not mother fucker | |
| So next time you see us | |
| Be sure that you make a hole | |
| And when they mention the D | |
| Get down on all fours | |
| [Chorus - Trick Trick] | |
| Got big killas with big guns (who want it) | |
| Come to my hood | |
| Get some (who want it) | |
| Wanna start shit in the club boy (who want it) | |
| Touched up (who want it) | |
| Fucked up (who want it) | |
| [x2] | |
| [Verse - Eminem] | |
| Ooh wow, look at the bitches up in this club | |
| Man I'm gettin me some digits fo I leave up out this mug | |
| And it's like oh pal, wam, bam, thank you ma'am | |
| I ain't kissin you on the lips, but I'll be glad to shake your hand | |
| Now let's get blew out, let's start some shit tonight | |
| Just let me pick the chick that I'm a leave here with tonight | |
| Before we get the fighting, and Throughout | |
| This music makes me rally, how they gonna play that new trick trick | |
| And expect no-one to get their shit spit | |
| It's just too wild, and one more shot of hypnotic | |
| And I am not in control of my body, I go robotic and blow a fuse out | |
| Homies is like you're startin to static | |
| And I'm nah that's just my swagger but I'm dancing with this fat girl | |
| And gettin Loose now, I don't wanna fight, I feel like partying | |
| Till' this idiot dumps his bacardi on my cardigan and knocks my screws out | |
| It never fails, I'm know I'm going to jail | |
| I might as well take the laces out my shoes now | |
| [Chorus - Trick Trick] | |
| Got big killas with big guns (who want it) | |
| Come to my hood, get some (who want it) | |
| Wanna start shit in the club boy (who want it) | |
| Touched up (who want it) | |
| Fucked up (who want it) | |
| [x2] | |
| [Verse - Trick Trick] | |
| I hear them screamin | |
| God damn it | |
| There goes the eminem | |
| There ain't no hittin him | |
| That think that we just cranked up | |
| But he been them | |
| It's trick and them | |
| Goon sqad gangstas | |
| You can't get to him | |
| We down for the bang and the brawl | |
| But now we killin him | |
| See ever since we started | |
| You might of had to pardon our hardest | |
| From the largest city | |
| They sayin that we retarded | |
| And ? brought us over | |
| Some of their artists got dropped | |
| You think I'm playin | |
| Then bring it | |
| Come on let's see what you got | |
| We make the club go bang (gun shot) | |
| You got that light noise | |
| See ain't nobody fucking with this nigga and this white boy | |
| That been through the realest and the pros | |
| Street just like hoes | |
| We put the thugs on | |
| On him and? | |
| We don't give a fuck about nothin you used to do | |
| This record is not equalient to high scool musical | |
| No blaming paul or dre | |
| Blame me for everything I say | |
| Cause I got him nigga | |
| [Chorus - Trick Trick] | |
| Got big killas with big guns (who want it) | |
| Come to my hood, get some (who want it) | |
| Wanna start shit in the club boy (who want it) | |
| Touched up (who want it) | |
| Fucked up (who want it) | |
| [x2] |
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