Don't Front

[Verse 1]

Used to get bent, now I represent to the fullest

Pencil is full of insolent bullets

I'm like a Doberman Pinscher, Pitbull and a Rott'

Mixed with a toxic, the plot begins to thicken

I begin to spittin' like vintage Pac

Demented, demonic, sinister

Ever since the Doc' replenished me

The day he gave me that shot when I was just about to quit

So to not see him with me would be a shockin' image

And I'm the definition of what a concrete chin is

‘Cause no matter how many times you sock me in it

And knock me to the canvas, even the boxin' critics

Know that if I get off to a rocky start, I'll always have a Rocky finish

Eat me brocoli, spinach, cocky? Nope

But I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at

This and put emphasis on the "dope"

So when names come up, in that conversation of who's the dopest, better throw mine in it

And don't mind me, while I remind you of the flow

You won't find anywhere

When it fires and I unload, my pen explodes

'Til there's no rhymes in it, reload in no time

Let insults fly every 60 seconds that go by, so you know I meant it

In school I was so shy, timid

Two pairs of jeans I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I 'member

Beggin' my mom for K-Mart MacGregors

‘Cause they were new, St. Vincent de Paul

Those Pony's were used, and no size fitted

But kissed them old days, adiós, I did it

They said I was a gimmick

Now I'm the one that those guys mimic

Now you fuckers don't wanna go startin' no argument

‘Cause you know I'll win it

Name a flow that's more authentic, and don't front

[Hook: Buckshot]

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, word

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Yo, why you frontin'?

You know I got you open, kid

[Verse 2]

Rest in peace to Big Proof

You was a beast, you lyrically mirrored me

Molded my flow off of you, your spirit's flowin' through me

I love you, Doody, without you I feel so incomplete

I'm no king, no need for rose petals to be thrown at my feet

I'm a thorn in your side, get thrown into a throne

Better watch the fuckin' tone that you speak

Feel like I'm in the zone, I'm in a whole different league

On my motherfuckin' own, it's just me

No opponents can compete

And I've never been known to retreat

From beef, be beat, follow trends or wallow in defeat

I'm still hungry as fuck, but can't even say "Bon appétit!"

‘Cause I don't know what to eat

Fuckin' microphone or the beat

Bitch, nobody's mind works like mine

It's nose to the grindstone time, holmes, your mind's blown

‘Cause I rhyme like I'm still tryna get signed

Up in the Ebony Show-case

With Denaun screamin' "Who the fuck passed you the mic?"

Never asked you like my shit from the get

I'd rather ask you to wipe my ass, bitch

You had you a nice run, now take a hike

I ever meet my match, I'ma strike that bitch first

‘Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real rappers

The real rappers get their mothafuckin' skills crackin'

Word to Buckshot and Dru-Ha, why the fuck not?

You don't like it? Suck a cock! Almost forgot

Before I signed with the Doc, I almost signed with Duck Down!

‘Cause Rawkus didn't make no offers, so mothafuck Loud

They jerked me around, so what's up now?

Wow, how much of an asshole would I sound like

Rubbin' it in and holdin' some grudge now? But don't front

[Hook: Buckshot]

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, word

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Don't front, you know I got you open, kid

Yo, why you frontin'?

You know I got you open, kid

[Verse 3]

Late at night, used to catch a buzz, couldn't write

Now I write the type of shit to make you wipe

But wear diapers, ‘cause you might leave a streak

I'm on a streak, windshield wipers couldn't wipe

It's hard to decipher what cypher I might jump in tonight

‘Cause I'm hyper or somethin'

Needin' someone or somethin' is lightin'

This fire under me, it's breathin' new life

It's like I already died once

I guess some people only live twice, and it's funny

My days of being broke were so long ago

I lost all concept of money

But you dimes won't get a fuckin' nickle from me

Oh shit, I'm down on one knee

I'm havin' a stroke of genius – Elizabeth, I'm comin' to you, honey

From boy to man

And still make a whore moan, like a thyroid gland

I'm in another category, man

Don't put me up with them pop stars

I never needed a pat on the back to get at a boy, band

No offense? Yes offense

Precedents has been set that'll never get met

Middle finger pressed against Moby's nose

Shouts to Obie, the curtains closed on my show

But never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it

You can't take it, oh

Got a whole generation of rappers comin' up

That are nutty with the flow, but convince me you've heard

An MC since me who's as good with the fuckin' mincin' of words

Without mincin' words that'll make you feel like I'm pinchin' a nerve

Who's mentally disturbed

You might as well stick a knife in me and turn

It'll be like my skin bein' Indian burned

Hah, bitch, there isn't one, when will you learn?

Never been served, if memory serves

I'd battle that 'til my own recollection remembers these words

[Outro: Buckshot]

You know I got you open kid, stop frontin'

You know I got you open, Word Life...

• Artist:Eminem
• Album:The Marshall Mathers LP 2