Our House

[Hook 1: Eminem]

I wanna be the best who ever did it

Don't know if that goal is feasible, or it isn't

But if it is thank God, if you're listenin'

Please give me the strength to crush all competition

You can't blame me for dreaming, I'm a dreamer

And if I'm coming off brash please forgive me

But, that's all I want

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"]

I just wanna be the illest MC (That's all I want)

The same time being as real as can be

Mayhem, sickness, murder, horror

These are the kind of words that describe my aura

G Rap, Ras Kass, Kurupt

Redman I am cut from that cloth

Write a rhyme about me, you a dead man

Cool J, I'm Bad video

Learn the whole routine and perform it for my father's friends

While they smoked and drank

Symphony, D.O.C. inspired me to write what

Would eventually put me on airplanes like B.o.B

Canibus, Wu-Tang, you know our history but hats off

When we rap this Jack Frost we outline the track chalk

Thank God for the one-two cadence

Thank God for the lunchroom tables

I'm trying to be the sickest nigga, dead or alive

And if I happen to fall short, it's been one hell of a ride

Chronic 1 and 2, looking up at the sky at the sun

Up until the day the sun is you

You listening to hip-hop, you in Jay's house

Wayne's house, Nas' house

Em's house, Our House

[Hook 2: Skylar Grey]

So welcome, to our house

Where no one, comes back out

You won't find, comfort

In here, in here, in here

[Verse 2: Joell Ortiz]

When I was a little boy I wanted to be a rapper

Wanted to be on the radio and snapping pictures after

And so I grabbed my pen and pad and scribbled chitter chatter

It started off whack

But in the words of a ten year old, my shit was getting phatter

I hit the studio at 16, stupid ill

Not knowing how the booth would feel, what's ADAT's and two inch reel

How you ad-lib? What's a punch? I ain't a boxer

But I sure enough learned the ropes, look D and Mike you made a monster

Now everyday's a game of Contra, I got 99 men

An infinite amount of rounds inside this mighty fine pen

This is my dream, don't fuck with it, I'm telling you

Cause anyone can get dusted as long as production is available

I'm disgusted as a fan, look how niggas sounding, damn

Weak head, ya'll suck bad, fuck swag and your kicks from South Japan

I'm finna to be the best in this profession

I've been invested all my life, so wipe your feet before you step in

Our house

[Hook 2 & Hook 1]

[Interlude: Joe Budden]

I just wanna be the illest MC

The same time being as real as can be

[Verse 3: Crooked I]

Yo, in my house, the lights out

No utilities in the facilities

Feeling my life's 'bout, to wipe out

These feelings I'm feeling be killing me

I pull the mic out, can't strike out

Cause if winning is really my enemy

I pull a nine out, blow my mind out

Is the end of me really serenity?

Man in my house, it's rap or die

Get a piece of that apple pie

Life is a Pharcyde song, and that bitch just passes by

So I, got lyrically complex, that way I could clock checks

Get my moms out the projects, with these concepts, competition can't digest

And then I stress cause the road is rough

I start feeling like shit's sour

The electricity in my will power, could still power, the twin towers

For ten hours so send cowards

The message from Crooked I

Royce Da 5, Joe Budden, Em Yaowa

[Verse 4: Eminem]

In our, house we spit like Sig Sauers

The way I feel now I could spit for six hours

Straight, only way to be great, is to dig down, if you can hear this sound in

Side my head sounds like a fucking drive-by

That's what the inside of my mind's like

Looking back on, my career even, hindsights, tunnel vision, 5 mics

Never wanted that so bad well I got-ta go mad

Nomad with a notepad

Go Taz, spaz on these ho bags

That bother me, but I never wanna show that

Just don't act like it ever does

Even though you know that there will never come

A day someone blows past you, never was

Someone who's as dope as you ever was

And you hope that's, true cause the competitor in you

Couldn't let someone be better than you

And you know that, so you don't ever hold back

What you gonna go back, to working a regular job?

Fuck that, I'm gonna go hard grab on my, gonads

Tell them fuck theyselves

They call me a wigger like Renee Zell

But I raised hell like a stay-at-home dad

Rap is the only thing that I was ever really, bad to the bone at

Guess I'm similar to, gangrene when I'm, angry then I'm

Hulk Smash, so much passion but no compassion

If eyes are the windows to the soul

Then it's, broken glass and there's no trespassing

Alright now here we go

Dre stamped me now I'm stamping Yelawolf be ready for the most competitive

Clique in the world it's like Clash Of The Titans

I'm releasing the cracker it's time to set it again

And when it's said and it's all done

None shall fuck with this squadron

So come on in, at your own risk

This is (Our House) Bitch!