Battle Lyric 8 Mile 8 MILE SOUNDTRACK

{*scratched: "What? You wanna battle ME?"*}
{*scratched: "Yo man, how much
money you got?"*}
{*scratched: "What? You wanna battle ME?"*}
{*scratched:
"Yo man, how much money you got?"*}

[Guru]
I used to guzzle
40's, and own a beat up Caddy
Since the hood still love me, I'll turn the
heat up daddy
I went from mackin fly honies on the train
to straight
relaxin on the beach, countin money gettin brain
Soon as you rappers get a
chance you wanna floss a lot
You buy a iced out watch because it cost a
lot
Then you in the club, stylin with dough
Profilin with hoes that we
boned, a while ago
You rookies haven't done enough laps around the
track
You had one hot single, but then your album sounds wack
Son you bore
me with your war stories
You ain't even do that shit, so that's just more
stories
How you expect us to take you seriously?
The look in my eye punk,
has got you scared of me
I'm blastin your sons, I'm snatchin your
funds
You catch a royal ass-whoopin, you've been askin for
one

{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the
game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
"Yo man.."
"You know the drill"
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise
the game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "You wanna battle me?"*}
"Yo man.."
"How much money you got?"

[Guru]
Bitch you don't even know, the
half about me
I bring it straight to your chest, ask your staff about
me
I'm just a little bit older, plus a whole lot wiser
I might advise ya,
or I might pulverize ya
I can visit any city, get respect in the
street
While you alone in your room, shook to death of the streets
I'll
take a second to speak, I keep my weapon in reach
I ain't talkin romance but
you'll get swept off your feet
I keeps a ghetto chick, that loves to blast
and she peddle shit
Groupies fake moves, I get her to settle shit
You
can't compare to the status right here
Legendary worldwide, we can battle
right here
Listen junior, I'ma tear back your wig
This ain't TV but I'll
show you what a "Fear Factor" is
Stop grillin me, and all that frontin is
killin me
You leave me no choice but to hurt your feelings
G

{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around and bruise the
game"*}
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "You wanna battle me?"*}
"Yo man.." "How
much money you got?"
"What.. what?" {*scratch: "We thorough to the
end"*}
"Yo man.." "You know the drill"
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap
rappers around and bruise the game"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers
around and bruise the game"*}
{*scratch: "We thorough to the
end"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to slap rappers around"*}
"You know the
drill"
{*scratch: "We thorough to the end"*}
{*scratched: "I'm bout to
slap rappers around and bruise the game"*}
"You know the drill"

 

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