Eminem – Don’t Front Lyrics
Used to get, bent, now I represent to the fullestPencil is full of insolent bulletsI’m like a Doberman Pinscher, Pitbull and a Rott’Mixed with a toxic, the plot begins to thickenI begin to spittin’ like vintage Pac, dementedDemonic sinister, ever since the the Doc replenished meThe day he gave me that shot when I was just about to quitSo to not see him with me would be a shockin’ imageAnd I’m the definition of what a concrete chin is‘Cause no matter how many times you sock me in itAnd knock me to the canvas, even the boxing criticsKnow that if I get off to a rocky start, I’ll always have a Rocky finishEat me broccoli, spinach, cocky? NopeBut I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at thisAnd put emphasis on the “dope, ” so when names come upIn that conversation of who’s the dopest, better throw mine in itAnd don’t mind me, while I remind you of the flowYou won’t find anywhere, when it fires and I unload my pen explodes‘Til there’s no rhymes in it, reload in no timeLet insults fly even sixty seconds that go by, so you know I meant itIn school I was so shy, timidTwo pairs of jeans I’d alternate, bummy clothes, I ‘memberBeggin’ my mom for K-Mart MacGregors ’cause they were newSt. Vincent de Paul, those Pony’s were used, and no size fittedBut kissed them old days, adios, I did itThey said I was a gimmick, now I’m the one that those guys mimicNow you fuckers don’t wanna go startin’ no argument‘Cause you know I’ll win it, name a flow that’s more authentic, and don’t front
Don’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, wordDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidYo why you frontin’, you know I got you open, kid
Rest in peace to Big Proof, you was a beast, you lyrically mirrored meMolded my flow off of you, your spirit’s flowin’ through meI love you, Doody, without you I feel so incompleteI’m no king, no need for rose petals to be thrown at my feetI’m a thorn in your side, get thrown into a throneBetter watch the fuckin’ tone that you speak, feel like I’m in the zoneI’m in a whole different league on my mothafuckin’ own, it’s just meNo opponents can compete, and I’ve never been known to retreatFrom beef, beep-beep, follow trends or wallow in defeatI’m still hungry as fuck, but can’t even say bon appetit‘Cause I don’t know what to eat, fuckin’ microphone or the beatBitch, nobody’s mind works like mineIt’s nose to the grindstone time, homes, your mind’s blown‘Cause I rhyme like I’m still tryin’ to get signed, up in the Ebony ShowcaseWith Denaun screamin’, “Who the fuck passed you the mic?”Never asked you like my shit from the getI’d rather ask you to wipe my ass, bitchYou had you a nice run, now take a hikeI ever meet my match, I’ma strike that bitch first‘Cause on the mic I gotta represent the real rappersThe real rappers get their mothafuckin’ skills crackin’Word to Buckshot and Dru-Ha, why the fuck not?You don’t like it? Suck a cock, almost forgotBefore I signed with the Doc, I almost signed with Duck Down‘Cause Rawkus didn’t make no offers, so mothafuck’ LoudThey jerked me around so what’s up now?Wow, how much of an asshole would I sound likeRubbin’ it and holding some grudge now, but don’t front
Don’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, wordDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidDon’t front, you know I got you open, kidYo why you frontin’, you know I got you open, kid
Late at night, used to catch a buzz, couldn’t writeNow I write the type of shit to make you wipeBut wear diapers ’cause you might leave a streakI’m on a streak windshield wipers couldn’t wipeIt’s hard to decipher what cypher I might jump into tonight‘Cause I’m hyper or somethin’, needing someone or somethin’ is lightin’This fire under me, it’s breathin’ new life, it’s like I already died onceI guess some people only live twice, and it’s funnyMy days of bein’ broke was so long ago, I lost the concept of moneyBut you dimes won’t get a fuckin’ nickel from meOh shit, I’m down on one kneeI’m havin’ a stroke of genius, Elizabeth I’m comin’ to you, honeyFrom boy to man, it’s still make a whore moan like a thyroid glandI’m in another category, man, don’t group me up with them pop starsI never needed a pat on the back to get at a boy, bandNo offense? Yes offense, precedents has been set that’ll never get metMiddle finger pressed against Moby’s noseShouts to Obie, the curtains closed on my show(But never forget that I’m the one you thought wouldn’t make it)You can’t take it, ohGot a whole generation of rappers comin’ up that are nutty with the flowBut convince me you’ve heardAn MC since me who’s this good with the fuckin’ mincing of wordsWithout mincing words that’ll make you feel like I’m pinching a nerveWhose mentally disturbed, you might as well stick a knife in me and turnIt’ll be like my skin bein’ Indian burnedHah, bitch there isn’t one, when will you learn?Never been served if memory servesI’d battle that ’til my own recollection remembers these words
You know I got you open kid, yo stop fronting (don’t front)You know I got you open, Word Life
