Yo, I dedicate to this to you
To all my fans, keeping y’all in health
Let’s tell this Whitey Ford to go fuck himself
‘Cause it’s cruel when you cause a bad heart condition and
Which I create, ’cause that’s my mission
So listen close, to what we say
Because this type of fag claims to never be gay

I knew you was jealous from the day that I met you
I upset you, ’cause I get respect, I bet you
I’m even liked better by your niece and nephew
And now you hate Fred because Lethal left you
Peckerwood mad ’cause his record went wood
No respect in the hood, fled to his neck of the woods
Got in touch with his roots, found the redneck in his blood
And said, “Heck, country western rap records are good”
So he picks the guitar up and he strums a few notes
He can’t rap, or sing, but he wants to do both
Puts an album out and rules for part of the year
Then Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit come from out of nowhere
It’s the start of an era, rock rap’s harder this year
No one’s trying to hear some fucking old fart in a chair
Sitting on stage, strumming acoustic guitar in your ear
So you start to get scared, sit back and spark an idea
Figure you can diss me to jump start your career?
I punch you in your fucking chest ’til your heart kicks in gear
And fuck your underground buddies’ nameless crew
Like I’mma say they names so they can be famous too

You just a Quitter and you bitter ’cause I came along
And the days of House of Pain are gone
And if you talk about my little girl in a song again
I’mma kill you, I’mma kill you
You just a quitter and you bitter ’cause I came along
And the days of House of Pain are gone
And if you talk about my little girl in a song again
I’mma kill you, I’mma kill you

Heart attack to stroke from the crack you smoke
To the rap you wrote, your fuckin’ answer back’s a joke
And I’mma tell these motherfuckin’ fans the truth
The reason why you dissed me first and I answered you
You said I passed you in a lobby and I glanced at you
Like I ain’t notice you, bitch, I had a show to do
Like I’m supposed to be star-struck, come over to you
You better shut your fuckin mouth while you O-for-two
Back in ’94 Limp opened the show for you
Rocked the crowd better and stole the whole show from you
Took your motherfuckin’ DJ and stole him too
So you fall in a slump and get all emotional
So now you sing and mix slang with blues and pluck strings
Confused as fuck ’cause now your music sucks dick
Mr.-Mr. Ass Kisser to get accepted in rap quicker
But never last, and Everlast is a

Quitter and you bitter ’cause I came along
And the days of House of Pain are gone
And if you talk about my little girl in a song again
I’mma kill you, I’mma kill you
You just a quitter and you bitter ’cause I came along
And the days of House of Pain are gone
And if you talk about my little girl in a song again
I’mma kill you, I’mma kill you

Aight look, so this is what we ask of our fans
If you ever see Everlast, whoop his ass
Hit him with sticks, bricks, rocks, throw shit at him
Kick him, spit on him, treat him like a hoe, bitch-slap him
Do it for me, do it for Fred, do it for Limp
Do it for Rock, do it for rap, do it for Kid
Do it for Ice-T, do it just to do it, fuck it
He’s a bitch, he ain’t gon’ hit you back, he’s nothing
Shit, in five years we’ll all be eatin’ at Whitey’s
And he’ll be bussin tables in that bitch, cleaning the toilets

Ayo, fuck this, cut this shit off
Ayo Head
That’s why I fucked your mother, you fat motherfucker

Kill Whitey (Hahaha!)
Kill Whitey, Detroit
Kill Whitey, yo, yo
Kill Whitey, haha, look

First off, fuck your songs and the shit you say
Diss my wife, but at least I got a bitch, you gay
You claim to be a Muslim, but you Irish White
So fuck you, fat boy, drop the mic, let’s fight
Plus, I punch you in the chest, weak hearts I rip
Whitey Ford, 40 and white, lethargic ass dickhead
I keep ’em comin’ while you runnin’ out of breath
Steady duckin’ while I’m punchin’ at your chest, you need to rest
Dilated, go ask your people how I leave ya
With your three CDs nobody sees, when they released
Evidence, don’t fuck around with real MCs
You ain’t ready for no underground beef, so fuck geeks
I let you faggots know it’s on for life
But Everlast might die tonight, haha!
Fat boy murdered on wax and killed
Fuck with me and take a heart pill, you know

Grab .380s when you see Slim Shady
Call the doctor to heal your heart
They shocked you back to life at the clinic
But you ’bout to get relapsed any minute, honkey, I hit ’em up

Hahaha
Yo’, check this out
You faggots ain’t even on my level
I’mma let D12 ride on you bitch-made ass faggots

Yo, get out the way yo, get out the way yo
Whitey Ford’s heart just stopped
Eminem shocked him back, he had another heart attack
Whitey Ford’s getting his ass floored for talkin’ back
Little faggot Hamburgular, I show you where the burgers are
At your own restaurant, while I’m servin’ ya
Drop and stomp your whole heart ’til it stops
Call the cops, I’mma beat your ass while they watch

Ha ha, now we got the whole industry makin’ fun of you Erik
Where’s your House of Pain now? It’s only one of you Erik
You a petty coward, you ain’t ready to steady go a round
With some killers from 7 Mile to the motherfuckin’ Belle Isle Bridge

Grab .380s when you see Slim Shady
Call the doctor to heal your heart
They shocked you back to life at the clinic
But you ’bout to get relapsed any minute, honkey, I hit ’em up

Got in his ass and now this faggot wanna mention me still
This ain’t no freestyle battle Everlast gettin’ killed
With his chest open, trying to throw a fuckin’ punch
But you just chokin’, having a stroke
And now you learn why crackers never earned a dime
‘Cause you suck, motherfucker, you should learn to rhyme
Talkin’ about you packin’ pistols, but it’s funny to me
You ain’t never been in trouble, you just wanna be me
I’m a paleface killer whale
On his way to fuckin’ prison, pistol whippin’ tail
Erik, remember when I passed you in the lobby that day?
That shit was obvious, you probably was gay
Now it’s all about country, you gave up hip-hop
49,000 copies the week your shit drop
While my sales making records break
Two and a half million scanned by the second week
Motherfucker, I hit em up

I’m from Detroit’s Pemberton Ave where bullets tear you in half
Fuck the music, we got a Uzi for all you fags
Get the shit out of our stereo, Dilated, you violated
Now you ’bout to get annihilated, we gon’ bury you
Erik’s irons get choked up and yoked up
All you underground bitches get your throats cut

What the fuck, is you stupid? I choke Whitey Ford
With his fucking guitar cord and stuff him in cardboard
Chopped up in a box, with 16 parts, I stomped on his heart
D-12, Amityville, fuck your mother while you watch
Keep your restaurant locked and block your door
‘Cause we hit ’em up like motherfuckin 2Pac Shakur

You a, Black Jesus, heart attack, seizures
Too many cheeseburgers McDonald’s Big Mac greases
White devil, washed-up honkey
Mixed up cracker who crossed over to country

Yo, ayo cut this shit off
Sheeeit! Fuck him!
That’s it, I’m done, I promise, I’m done
That’s it, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I promise
I just believe in kicking a man while he’s down
Goddamn! I quit!
Mention my daughter’s name in a song again, you fucking punk ayo!