作曲：Von Carlisle、DeShaun Dupree Holton、Rufus Johnson、Marshall Mathers、Ondre Moore、Denaun Porter、Andre R. Young、Mike Elizondo This kind of music, use it, and you get amped to do shit Whenever you hear some shit and you can't refuse it It's just some shit, for these kids, to trash they rooms with Just refuse whenever they asked to do shit The type of shit that you don't have to ask who produced it You just know - that's the new shit The type of shit that causes mass confusion and drastic movement of people actin stupid I come to every club with intention to do harm With a prosthetic arm and smellin like Boone's Farm Hidin under tables as soon as I hear alarms Paranoid thief that'll steal from his own moms Connivin Kon, Artis with a bomb Strapped to my stomach screamin, "Let's get it on!" A lush that love to drink, drunk drivin a tank Rollin over a bank, cops see me and faint It's drastic, I'm past my limit of coke I think I'll up my high by slittin your throat Push your baby carriage into the street, 'til it's mince meat Your mens been beat the minute I step onto your street This is fight music! You know why my hands are so numb? (No) Cause my grandmother sucked my dick and I didn't cum (oh) Smacked this whore for talkin crap (bitch) So what if she's handicapped, the bitch said Bizarre couldn't rap I fuckin hate you; I'll take your drawers down and rape you While Dr. Dre videotapes you (hell yeah!) Satan done got me on this song Eatin a hot dog readin the Holy Qu'ran, while I'm on the john Tired of wearin this yellow thong Take it back Sisqo, you know where it belongs (thong th-thong thong) Now here's a gun, I'll put it in your palm Now go over there and blow up Dru Hill's arms Fuck your love songs Just bring who you gon' bring on, who you gon' swing on? I'm King Kong, guns blow you to king-dom come Show you machine gun funk Sixteen m-16's and one pump The snub in my paw, shove it in your jaw Have you runnin out this fuckin club in your drawers We lovin the broads, there's nothin to applaud But fuck it it's all good, the hood is up in The Source It's fight music I'm a nigga that loves scuffles And won't hesitate to sock you again for swollen knuckles I'm like that, catch a nigga like bear traps Blow his head back right in front of the priest sayin, "You hear that?" I slap your freak, bump you and won't speak If you step on my feet, you get drowned in your own drink I suffocated my shrink just for talkin Came back and fucked up his pallbearers and made 'em drop his coffin It's fight music! These beads I'm swingin is stingin 'em See all these niggaz? When I step in the club, I'm bringin 'em If any nigga lookin too hard, we Rodney King'n 'em Malice green to them and gasolinin 'em with premium Light a cigarette, flick it at 'em or spit it at 'em Hold up a picture of his family and kick it at him Blast while you right hookin, right when your wife's lookin Fuck fight music, bitch this is losin your life music! If I could capture the rage of today's youth and bottle it Crush the glass from my bare hands and swallow it Then spit it back in the faces of you racists and hypocrites who think the same shit but don't say shit You Liberace's, Versace's, and you nazis Watch me, cause you thinkin you got me in this hot seat You motherfuckers wanna JUDGE me cause you're NOT me You'll never STOP me, I'm TOP speed as you POP me I came to save these new generations of babies from parents who failed to raise 'em cause they're lazy to grow to praise me I'm makin 'em go crazy That's how I got this whole nation to embrace me And you fugazi if you think I'ma admit wrong I cripple any hypocritic critic I'm sic'd on And this song is for any kid who gets picked on A sick song to retaliate to, and it's called.. It's fight music!