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BET - 2011 BET Hip Hop Awards - Cypher 7 ft. Shady Records, Yelawolf, Slaughterhouse & Eminem (Traduction Française)
[Eminem]

Welcome to Detroit
This is the BET Shady 2.0 Cypher 2011
Myself, Slaughterhouse and Yelawolf



[Eminem]
Wait, can I rap?
(You da Boss, you better get 'em)

Ayo... lyrical miracle spiritual individual criminal subliminal
In your swimmin' pool
(Boo.. come on man, get back on.. kick that shit)

You ’bout to see peace destroyed
It’ll never be restored
When I unleash these beastly hoards on your CD stores
Wanna stop it, you gon' need a priest and at least three swords
A license to ill from the Beastie Boys, 3 Ouija boards
And a squeegee and please be warned don’t ask for the squeegees forles bêtes sont làachées
Or the holy water, acid rap that’ll eat these floors
Eat a hole in a rhyme book, you see these horns?
And as for me, you ask when I’m gone "will he be mourned?"
Is puke luke warm? Should Casey Anthony do porn?
Can that chick fit a newborn dead baby inside a freakin' shoebox
With a shoehorn, smothered in chloroform so she can go get her groove on?
Can she duct tape and Velcro a fetus? Joell yo
Tell Joe I need his empty box from his old shell toe adidas
So I can put these babies in the fetal position
They’re getting elbows to the penis
Yeah, big deal. I took some little kids big wheel
And spit in his fricken big kids meal
Quit tryna bite me and pinch, you wench, sit still
You just put your six inch heel through my Benz windshield?
Is it dust we bout to kick up?
Can Yelawolf fit a fifth of rum in a big cup?
Between a stick shift in his fricken pick up
And drink like a hick, redneck, hillbilly will till he gets hiccups?
Flippin' the script up like Mike Vick
Get bit in his junk by a pit, yup I’m a sick pup
I’d be a horrible magician
Cause I’d fuck that trick up
Fix ya lips up to say something fly, or zip up
A-B? Let’s C. You said you were gonna do X-Y-Z
Till you fuck around and get dropped like an E
When you add an I-N-G
Don’t put a K in front of that though, when I MC
Cause I’m not the king of this microphone booth
It’s more like a phonebooth
Superman in this bitch, kryptonite won’t do
It gives me more power, I bump the fat boys and
Eat rat poison, take meteor showers
Fresh outta the mental hospital and me not flossing a middle finger
While I hop in a mosh pit, will be like Nas doing gospel or R&B, you crazy?
Me pushing up daisies? That thought is impossible
As if flashing across the news, Posdnuos was caught with a prostitute
With a huge Johnson, boobs, and a monstrous tube of lube
And a bra, some boots, some panties, in an aqua blue Mazda
Swallowing a popsicle, playing tonsil pool
So kill the rumors it ain’t happenin'
I’ma rap till I’m fossil fuel