[Chorus: Eminem]. This kind of music use it and you get amped to do shit. Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it. It's just some shit for these kids to trash they rooms with. Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit. The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it. You just know - that's the new shit. The type of shit that causes mass confusion. and drastic movement of people actin stupid. [Kon Artist]. I come to every club with intention to do harm. With a prosthetic arm. And smelling like Boone Farm. Hiding under tables as soon as I hear alarms. Paranoid thief that'll steal from his own mom. Kuniving Kon. Artis with a bomb. Strapped to my stomach screamin'. "Let's get it on!". A lust that love the drank. Drunk driving a tank. Rolling over a bank. Cops see me and faint. It's drastic. I'm passed my limit of coke. I think I'll up my high by slitting your throat. Push a baby carriage into the street. Till it's minced meat. Your men's been beat. The minute I step foot on your street. This is fight music!. [Bizarre]. You know why my hands are so numb? (No). Cuz my grandmother sucked my dick. And I didn't cum (Oh). Smacked this whore for talking crap (Bitch). So what if she's handicapped (What?). The bitch said Bizarre couldn't rap (haha). I fuckin hate you. I'll take your drawers down and rape you. While Dr. Dre videotapes you (Hell yeah!). Satan done got me on this song. Eatin a hotdog readin the Holy Qu'ran. While I'm on the john. Tired of wearin this yellow thong. Take it back Sisqo. You know where it belongs (thong th-thong thong). Now here's a gun. I'll put it in your palm (baw). Now go over there and blow off Dru Hill's arms. Fuck your love songs. [Chorus]. [Proof]. Just bring who you gon bring on. Who you gon swing on?. I'm King Kong. Guns blow you to king-dom come. Show you machine gun funk. Sixteen M-16's. And one pump (click clack). Snubbing my paw. Shove it in your jaws. Have you runnin out this fuckin club in your drawers. We lovin the brawls it's nothin to applaud. But fuck it it's all good. The hood is up in The Source. It's fight music. [Swifty]. I'm a nigga that love scuffles. And won't hesitate to sock you again with swollen knuckles. I'm like that. Catch a nigga like bear traps. Blow his head back right in front of the preist. Sayin "Ya here that?". I slap your freak. Bump you and won't speak. If you step on my feet. You get drowned in your own drink. I suffocated my shrink just for talkin. Came back and fucked up his pall bearers. And made them drop his coffin. It's fight music!. [Kuniva]. These beads I'm swingin is stingin em. See all these niggaz?. When I step in the club I'm bringin em. And any nigga lookin too hard. We Rodney King'n em. Malice Green to them. And gasoline'n em with premium. Light a cigarette flick it at em or spit it at em. Hold up a picture of his family and kick it at him. Blast while you right hookin. Right when your wife's lookin. Fuck fight music bitch. This is losin your life music. [Eminem]. If I could capture the rage. Of today's youth and bottle it. Crush the glass with my bare hands and swallow it. And spit it back in the faces of you racists. And hypocrites who think the same shit but don't say shit. You Liberaces Versaces and you Nazi's watch me. Cuz you think you got me in this hot seat. You motherfuckers wanna judge me cuz you're not me. You'll never stop me. I'm top speed and you pop me. I came to save these new generations of babies. From parents who failed to raise them cuz they're lazy. So grow to praise me I'm makin em go crazy. That's how I got this whole nation to embrace me. And you fugazy if you think I'm a admit wrong. I'll cripple any hypocritic critic I'm sicked on. And this song is for any kid who get's picked on. A sick song to retaliate to and it's called. Chorus. THIS IS FIGHT MUSIC!.