Eminem - The Sauce Lyrics

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Its all bad now man, its all bad 
it's all fucked up now 
Yeah ha ha, new shit, hey yo 
I just want the whole world to know: 
That I did not start this, but I will finish it 

Comin up it never mattered was color you was 
If you could spit then you could spit, thats it, thats what it was 
Back when, motherfuckers was straight back packin 
Cypherin, fightin for life in this rap 
for the mic to get past and you psyched and you gasped 
and you hyped cuz you last and you might whoop some ass 
If you lost then you lost shake hands like a man 
and you swallowed it, when the unsigned hype column 
at The Source was like, the only source of light 
When the mics used to mean somethin, a four was like 
you were the shit, now its like the least you get 
three and a half now just means you a peice of shit 
four and a half or five, means you Biggie, Jigga, Nas, 
or Benzino shit I don't eben think you realize 
you playin with motherfuckers lives, I done watched Dre 
get fucked on The Chronic, probably cuz I was on it 
Now you fucked me outta my mics twice I let it slide 
I said I wouldnt hold my fuckin breath to get a five 
Shit I was right, I'da fuckin died already tryin 
I swear to God I never lie I bet thats why 
you let that bitch give me that bullshit review 
I sat and took it, I ain't look at the shit we knew 
You'd probly try to fuck us with Obie and 50 too 
{(::haach-poo::)}
Fuck a relationship we through 
No more Source with street credit, them days is dead 
Dre's got A-Ks to dave mase his head 
Every issue there's an eight page Made Men spread 
Will somebody please tell whoever braids his head 
That I am not afraid, hes just a fuckin waste of lead 
on my pencil, for me to write some shit this simple 
So listen closely, as I break it down and proceed 
This old Gs bout to get smoked like rolled weed 
You don't know me or my motherfuckin mother you motherfuckin punk 
Put me on your fuckin cover just sell your little sell out mag 
I ain't mad I feel bad, heres an ad, heres a poster of Ray-Ray and his dad 
You wanna talk about some shit that you dont know about? ya 
Lets talk about how your puttin you own son out there 
And to try to eat off him, cuz you missed your boat 
Your never gonna float bitch you're just too old 
No wonder you're sore now, lordy ya board now 
I'm pushin thirty you kickin fourty's door down 
Bitch this is war now, and you'll never beat me 
all you do is cheat me out of quotables but you know 
that you'll always see me on your TV 
Cuz you gotta stay up till three in the mornin 
To see your video played once on BET 
So he-he-he who has the last laugh? 
Aftermath ya so on behalf on our whole staff 
kiss our ass-hole cracks we'll never fold or hold back 
Just know that Benzinos wack 
no matter how many times I say he's stan, hell never blow jack 
Your better off tryin to bring R-S-O back 
Look at your track record thats how far it goes back 
Its extortion and Ray owns a prportion 
so half of the staff up there is fresh outta jail from boston 
Bullyin and bossin, caged like a slave they've completely brainwashed him 
And forced him to stay locked in his own office afraid of the softest 
fakest, wannabe gangster in New York 
And its pitiful, cuz I never woulda said shit to you if you'd kept your mouth shut 
Bitch now what? hit it clue, spit it slay 
New shit, exclusive yo lantern, yo whoo kid
You know what to do with this: use it 
I'm through, this is stupid, I cant believe I stooped to this 
bullshit to do this... 

And who you callin a bitch? Bitch. You owe me.

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lyrics submitted by ThaPhatAlpaca
lyrics corrected by scott