Eminem - Fu*k you lyrics

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[Stretch Armstrong] Ha ha Yeah, yeah we back again We doin our shit yo word up I wanna hear some fly shit, you know some get high shit Word up I wanna hear some white boy shit man Yeah I wanna hear Eminem, man, talkin about all the shit he be doin (Stretch Armstrong is now in your world) [Eminem] If you don't do fu*kin drugs, fu*k you If you don't do ecstacy fu*k you If you don't pop mushrooms fu*k you If you aint on a tab of acid fu*k you (Shady go!) I'm nausous in this place I need some office space The boss is late I wanna slap the mustache right off his face I'm ready to go postal, I'm so close I can almost feel his throat with no pulse when i choke him In ten seconds I'm gonna turn into hulk hogan With a cigerette in his mouth he tells me there's no smoking?! I'm sick of this shit it's ridiculious All i picture is kickin his ASS While he's takin his ASHES and FLICKIN em I'm sick of his stamps I'm sick of lickin em Sick of STICKEN em, I'm sick of looken at em I'M SICK OF EM Alright Mr. Mathers pick em up! No YOU pick them up! Bitch stick em up! Get against the wall senior citizens and all I can't take this shit no more Everybody hit the floor get the door Close it and lock it put your wallets back in your pockets I don't want dollars aint none of us walkin out of this office Faggot, fu*k you Work at the post office fu*k you (fu*k you) Talkin shit to me tellin me to take out the goddamn garbage fu*k you If you're a fu*kin dick fu*k you If you're a white rapper fu*k you Talk shit about stretch you're cool But if you don't talk shit about Stretch fu*k you If you're a fu*kin punk fu*k you Talk shit about me fu*k you You wanna battle me fu*k you I don't have to say shit to you but FU*K YOU

[Stretch Armstrong]
Ha ha Yeah, yeah we back again
We doin our shit yo word up

I wanna hear some fly shit, you know some get high shit
Word up I wanna hear some white boy shit man
Yeah I wanna hear Eminem, man, talkin about all the shit he be doin

(Stretch Armstrong is now in your world)

[Eminem]
If you don't do fu*kin drugs, fu*k you
If you don't do ecstacy fu*k you
If you don't pop mushrooms fu*k you
If you aint on a tab of acid fu*k you

(Shady go!)

I'm nausous in this place I need some office space
The boss is late I wanna slap the mustache right off his face
I'm ready to go postal, I'm so close
I can almost feel his throat with no pulse when i choke him
In ten seconds I'm gonna turn into hulk hogan
With a cigerette in his mouth he tells me there's no smoking?!
I'm sick of this shit it's ridiculious
All i picture is kickin his ASS
While he's takin his ASHES and FLICKIN em
I'm sick of his stamps I'm sick of lickin em
Sick of STICKEN em, I'm sick of looken at em
I'M SICK OF EM
Alright Mr. Mathers pick em up!
No YOU pick them up! Bitch stick em up!
Get against the wall senior citizens and all
I can't take this shit no more
Everybody hit the floor get the door
Close it and lock it put your wallets back in your pockets
I don't want dollars aint none of us walkin out of this office

Faggot, fu*k you
Work at the post office fu*k you (fu*k you)
Talkin shit to me tellin me to take out the goddamn garbage fu*k you
If you're a fu*kin dick fu*k you
If you're a white rapper fu*k you
Talk shit about stretch you're cool
But if you don't talk shit about Stretch fu*k you

If you're a fu*kin punk fu*k you
Talk shit about me fu*k you
You wanna battle me fu*k you
I don't have to say shit to you but FU*K YOU