Eminem with “Loud Noises” is a song included on rappers Eminem and Royce da 5'9's collaborative project "Hell: The Sequel" released on June 14th, 2011.
Loud Noises lyrics
Life handed me lemons, I jumped back in the public eye And squirted lemon juice in it, by now you just wish I'd f*cking die, But I electrify, get electricuted, executed by an executioner Of my flow too wit for the human eye to detect zooming by G-g-g-guess who? Whats happenin' guy? You told me to sh*t Fell off that pot, hopped right back on that crapper and I Said f*ck you, with a capital "I", look who's back to antag-gonize You don't like it, you can eat sh*t, f*ck off little faggot and die You right back like a maggot on my dick grabbing at my sh*t, better get to the back of the line You wanna get your shot at me? What kinda crap is that battle? What kinda rapper would I be? Before I let another rapper think he's hot I'll bury my face in his stinky twat and go (tongue noises) Go 'head, space is limited, ain’t even room in the back of my mind That’s why I ain’t thinking about you, I don’t got time and I told you a thousand times So how can I find the time to put an alkaline battery in Royce's back And at the same time put juice in mine? Goddammit Slaughterhouse is signed
[Verse 2: Crooked I]
I’m a menace villain, my pen is sitting spilling, my livers killing Then I let you witness sh*t when it hit the ceiling The niggas willing to give the listeners the sickest feeling Like mixing some Benadryl and penicillin then I’m filling the clip With a written, can you picture my pistol drilling? A million women and children when I’m illing but it isn’t real, it’s a rap On the real, it’s a wrap, how could you possibly stop the Apocalypse When I’m atomic bombing the populous Shock the metropolis hostile as a kid popping the Glock at his moms And his pops then he hops in his drop with his iPod rocking the Slaughterish Documentation and lyrics I write with confidence Write like a columnist slash novelist I’m in this game to demolish, establish my dominance Over prominent rappers you popping sh*t 'til you opposite I can spit ominous so spit politics now I’m Haile Selassie Gandhi and Pac of this hip hop genre, bitch
[Verse 3: Royce]
Lyrically I’m a cocaine Altoid Ability to bring, it’s a no brain bout boy Physically I’m literally a cocaine cowboy, wait-wait Did I just go almost four bars without talking about my big dick? The other day me and your thick bitch had a great day and we ate cake And then we walked and then she tried to jack me off but she lost Cause she couldn’t handle my sh*t, wait I sweared, irony of Ryan Is I am bipolar while I’m rhyming standing beside a big old white bear Neither one of us fight fair, you are literally looking at Woody and Wesley In a movie with a white boy ain’t got to jump no where cause I’m here Nigga I’m on fire yeah and I’m every bitch’s dream One, two I’m coming for you, I’m a big old nightmare Nigga this the slaughter stepping up I’ll pretty much slap your ass and tell you to shut the f*ck up After that I’ll slap your ass again and tell you to shut the f*ck up shutting up And that’s how you body a f*cking beat
[Verse 4: Joell Ortiz]
I should be the one that goes slow.. nah, get a stopwatch, clock my flow Hit the button on top, watch the jaw drop, oh-oh, that's that Aww Yaowa, when I drop I go outta space Blackout like Darth Vader’s face, placed in a molten shower Say something and get them proper mama poppa pouring out vodka Mama Mia, Em pass me the seeds, it’s (?) Slaughterhouse got signed Better yet boy go home, better yet boy G4 Chrome, better jet boy Mark Sanchez, Santanio Holmes, I’m not just any old homeboy Sitting in a lab picking up a pad I be spitting bad, I'mma get you mad with this gift I have Lord duck sufferin succotash when the trigger blast I’mma put your beak on your fitted hat Where the liquor at? Sip of yak that bitch and a vicious track (?) Sly Pro tools to boast Joe smooth I coast to the West like we’re tired of living at New York here’s a piggyback ride to the motherland, hold on brotherman, on the other hand Get down, I’m gutter fam, gun butt you with the Eagle handle Cunningham I don’t wanna talk, I just wanna beef, I don’t want a piece, I want it all baby boy I don’t wanna eat, I wanna feast up (?) rough piece of sh*t, you done weak, I’m the one, capiche?
[Verse 5: Joe Budden]
Insane what they call us, ain’t married to the game But you probably shouldn’t have came to the altar Every bar like propane for the sawed-off, using (?) to forge you Eminent Mr. Porter, slaughter my cinnamons emminent torture All of you feminine marauders, that’s women at war Men will assault you, time is a bastard symbol of (?) Kidnap your trembling daughter, at least a quarter I’m administering supporters, got an aura more like Sodom and Gomorrah Normally something’s wrong with me Claiming a quantity of the porn I see on the pause to me When I fix the game they’ll think sh*t came with a warranty How the f*ck are they gonna stop what I was born to be, corner me, sh*t belong to me Two choices, you can get along with me or sit your faggot ass right there in dormancy Wait, all you missing is heels to be RuPaul Ain’t nobody that’s real ever knew y’all Second to none and I’m dealing with Marshall This time I never come down, deal with the blue balls You ain’t gotta fear me but you’ll respect me Niggas who never met me threaten me, want to gillete me Why don’t you let me come (?) I got some machetes Swinging spaghetti like it’s heavy some said he deserve an ESPY In a Chevy like Andretti, put the Dezzy where his chest be
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