W.T.P. - Eminem

Yeah!

Oh!

Get up!

I said get up!

Let’s go!

Better watch out now,

Here we come

And we ain’t stoppin’until

We see the mornin’sun,

So give us room to do our thing

Cuz we ain’t come to hurt no one,

So everybody come on,

Get up on the floor right now

And grab someone!

Now first of all I’m the boss,

I just wanna get that across,

Man even my dentist

Hates when I floss.

Pull up to the club in a Pinto

Likes it’s a Porsche,

Garbage bag on one of the windows,

Spray-painted doors

With the flames on 'em,

Michigan plates and my name’s on 'em,

Baby, Shady’s here come on,

Get him if you dames want 'em,

But he ain’t stupid so quit tryin'

To run them games on him,

He’s immune to Cupid, why you tryin'

To put your claims on him?

Cuz you won’t do to me

What you did to the last man,

Now climb in back,

Try not to kick over the gas can,

There’s a half a gallon in it,

That could be our last chance

We have of just gettin’home,

Now could I get that lap dance?

She’s got a tattoo of me Right up off her ass man,

In the streets of Warren, Michigan

We call 'em tramp stamps,

That means she belongs to me,

Time to put the damn clamps down

And show this hussy who’s the man,

Now, get up, dance!

Now you can do this on your own

But everyone knows

That no one likes to be alone,

So get on the floor and grab somebody!

Ain’t nothin'

But a White Trash Party!

So let’s have us a little bash

And if anyone asks

It ain’t no one but us trash,

You dunno you better akse somebody

Cuz we’re havin’a White Trash Party!

Pull a fifth of Bacardi

From outta my underwear

And walk around the party

Without a care

Like a body without a head,

Lookin’like a zombie

From Night of the Livin’Dead

And tomorrow I’ll probably

Still be too high to get outta bed,

Til I feel like I been hit

With the sharp part of the hammer

Mixin’Hennessey and Fanta

With Pepto and Mylanta,

I shoot the gift like

I’m hollerin'"Die Santa!",

Missed the tree and hit Rudolph

And two innocent bystanders,

So quit tryna play the wall

Like you Paul,

Get on the floor when the beat drops

and stop stallin',

They call me The Stephon Marbury of rap darlin',

Cuz as soon as they throw on Some R. Kelly I start ballin',

Makin’it rain for

Them ladies in the minis,

But I’m not throwin’ones,

Fives, tens, or even twenties,

I’m throwin'

Quarters, nickels, dimes, pennies

Up at Skinny’s man,

I do this for them bunnies

Up at Denny’s,

From the north, east and west,

But when it comes to Them trailers in them South Parks,

Muffle it, cuz homie

That hood’s tighter then Kenny’s,

So ladies if your belly button’s

Not an innie then I’m outie,

Now hop in my minivan,

Let’s get rowdy, c’mon!

Now whether you’re black,

White or purple,

If you’re misunderstood

But you don’t give a fuck,

You ain’t doin’shit that you should,

Long as you know you’re up to evil

And you’re no damn good,

Get on the floor, man,

And rep your hood!

Now honey, don’t let them pricks trick,

We should make a quick dip

And go do some donuts

In the hospital parkin’lot

Cuz girl,

I got a sick wip,

Kick the back window

Outta my Gremlin,

Put two milk crates in the trunk,

Rip out the stick shift

And make a five seater!

I’ll be damned if I feed a chick,

It ain’t like me To split a piece of dry pita,

I’ll be the S-L to the I-M

To the S-H-A-D-Y,

And I don’t need a tanktop

To be a wife-beater!

I’ll rip a tree out the ground

And flip it upside down

'Fore I turn over a new leaf clown,

I’ll tell ya now,

I’m so raw I still need to un-thaw,

You feel me, y’all?

I shut the club down

Like Drake in the mall.

But baby, a body like that’s

Against the law,

You the baddest little chain

With the blades I ever saw,

Coleslaw containers,

Empty straw wrappers and all,

You got more junk in your trunk

Than I do in my car,

Now get up!