Don't Front Lyric - Eminem Ft Buckshot

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    Don't Front Lyric - Eminem Ft Buckshot


    [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 spitting like vintage Pac, demented
    Demonic sinister, ever since the the Doc replenished me
    The day he gave me that shot when I was just 'bout to quit
    So to not see him with me would be a shocking 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 boxing 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, where it fires and I unload my pen explodes
    'til there's no rhymes in it, reload in no time
    Let insults fly even sixty seconds that go by, so you know I meant it
    In school I was so shy, timid
    Two pairs of jean's I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I 'member
    Begging 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, adios, 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 starting 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

    [Verse 2]
    Rest in piece to Big Proof, you was a beast, you lyrically mirrored me
    Molded my flow off of you, your spirit's flowing 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 fucking tone that you speak, feel like I'm in the zone
    I'm in a whole different league on my mothafuckin' own, it's just me
    No opponents can compete, and I've never been known to retreat
    From beef, beep-beep, follow trends or wallow in defeat
    I'm still hungry as fuck, but can't even say bon appetit
    Cause I don't know what to eat, fucking 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 trying to get signed, up in the Ebony Show-
    -case with Denaun screaming "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'mma strike that bitch first
    Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real rappers
    The real rappers get their mothafuckin' skills cracking
    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
    Rubbing it and holding some grudge now, but don't front

    [Hook]

    [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 into tonight
    Cause I'm hyper or something, needing someone or something is lighting
    This fire under me, it's breathing 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 was so long ago, I lost my concept of money
    But you dimes won't get a fucking nickle from me
    Oh shit, I'm down on one knee
    I'm having a stroke of genius, Elizabeth I'm coming to you, honey
    From boy to man, it's 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 coming up that are nutty with the flow
    But convince me you've heard
    An MC since me who's this good with the fucking mincing of words
    Without mincing words that'll make you feel like I'm pinching a nerve
    Whose mentally disturbed, you might as well stick a knife in me and turn
    It'll be like my skin being 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 fronting
    You know I got you open, Word Life

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