It’s been a few years since Bad officially met Evil. This is the first time since 2011 that we get to see Em and Royce on a track alone again …

… and they are about to fuck shit up in Vegas.

The heavily… Read More [Chainsaw revving]

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha

[Verse 1: Eminem]

Got a shit-eating grin

Bitch, show me them itty-bitty titties again

We're in Sin City, since when did we begin to get dignity?

No diggity, bitch, you need to run and go get your figgity-friends

I'm lookin' at your bum-stiggity-bum, hun

The miggity mack's biggity back, don't act wiggity-wack

You can get the figgity-finger: the middle

You little dizzy bitch, sit and spiggaty-spin

Got a 6 o'clock cravin', stop, get Cîroc

It's 'bout to be an unbelievable night

I'll call it surreal, Sir Mix-a-Lot tape in

Hit the spot, spot my next victim

I'm picky like I missed a spot shavin'

Came to sip vodka, shit, yeah, that little chick is hot

But if she got rabies I wouldn't give the bitch a shot

I'd poke her in the rear, but I bet if I lick her, she'll try to chase me

(Haha) What are you: pit, rott, mixed?

Oh, you just got fixed, well shit, then let's lip-lock

If not, then trick, piss off, you snobby little pig snot nose

You think you're hot shit 'cause you're in heat

Well, bitch, if you're solar, then I'm your polar opposite, dog

'Cause I'm colder than popsicle sticks, poppin' shit

Talkin' it, walkin' it, spit boxin'

My sick thoughts are 'bout to lick shots, like the shit's sobbin'

And drip-droppin' in chocolatey whip-toppin'

So whether you're hip-hop, Slipknot, B.I.G., Pac

Kid Rock, Kris Kross, Rick Ross

You'll dig this; if not, then kick rocks in flip-flops

And I produced the track

So you don't have to ask who it is when this shit knocks (Turn up)

So crank the volume 'til it's bangin' and I'ma keep on sayin'

All the shit I should be hung for and probably killed for sayin'

And I probably will, but not until the day I pop a pill again

Like Joplin 'til I drop, and still

If that don’t do the job of killin' Shady, then the karma will

They sayin' I must bring it as Mohammad

Until the Parkinson's done ate away my brain

And made me Robin Williams crazy

Or I end up with dementia, but you rockin' with a sadist

Hate to say this, but if the thought is entertainin'

I ain't stoppin' til we explain it

Oh my god, for real, man, not again, I'm shakin'

But before I tie a rope around this nob

If they don't like it, got a knob that they can slob on until it's—

Wait, I just forgot what I was thinkin'…

What's it called again? I'm blankin'

The thing above the balls between my legs

And I think that I can feel it dangling, it's throbbing and it's veiny

Wait, I think that I got it, okay

Bitch, I got you (Robin Williams hangin')

Bitch, don't hang in the lobby unless you came to slob me

Come on, kemosabe, it's past time like your favorite hobby

'Cause of the way that I spit she remains on my dick

Then she grab me by the nuts

And try to take my sausage as a hostage

Ain't it obvious? Pretty much a no-brainer

Or should I say Cobainer?

That she's plain addicted to my dick like Lorena Bobbitt

Gotta wean her off it, weiner off it

Like she took my fucking penis, chopped it

And stuck it up between her armpit

And she began to swing a karambit knife and paint the carpet

At least that's what her train of thought is

'Cause I came, saw, conquered it

Hit it, quit it, and made her plain b-bonkers

And I always end up giving these bitches a complex

And I don't mean apartment

So spread your feet apart

And let me see you do some yoga stretches, splits

Now grab this Cuisinart

And make me breakfast, bitch, that's a prerequisite

And that's just to get in this bedroom, bitch (Bedroom, bitch)

Walked up to that Ke$ha chick (What up?)

Said my name is Booger, wanna catch a flick?

I'll even let you pick, make her fetch a stick

Bet you if you give this old dog these new tricks

To get familiar with I learned extra quick

Kick a pregnant bitch, oops, I guess the shit

Took an unexpected twist like the neck of the freaking exorcist

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch

Bitch, I said that this mask ain't for hockey

Hate Versace, Versace,I got Münchhausen by proxy

I'm making you sick, don't pretend you can't hear me

You deaf, girl, I said you was foxy

I'll tell a bitch like Bizarre

Bitch, shut the fuck up and get in my car

And suck my fucking dick while I take a shit

And I think with my dick, so come blow my mind

And it tastes like humble pie, so swallow my pride

You're lucky just to follow my ride

If I let you run alongside the Humvee

Unless you're Nicki, grab you by the wrist, let's ski

So what's it gon' be? Put that shit away, Iggy

You gon' blow that rape whistle or me?

(Squee) I love it, love it, love it

'Fore I get lost we're gettin' off

Like this is our exit, now let's hit the highway

And try not to get lost 'til we get to Las Vegas

[Pre-Chorus: Eminem]

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow, no sorrow)

Vegas

'Til we get to Las Vegas

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow)

Vegas

'Till we get to Las Vegas

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow, no sorrow)

Vegas

'Til we get to Las Vegas

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow)

Vegas

[Chorus: Eminem]

Whatever happens here, stays here

So let's go all the way dear

'Til we get to Las Vegas

[Verse 2: Royce da 5'9]

Whatever happens in my room, it stays in my room

Like movie night like cable

Treat every women in my stable like flavors

Lick her like she kryptonite and I get weak after like seven days

And seven nights in the Days Inn, it's Hot Vegas

We roll in circles and packs, we the Life Savers

She got a boyfriend, I got a toy then

I'll bring it with me when I show up to her crib wavin'

And I ain't tryna meet a nice neighbor

I'm so Jay Electronic, I'm cut like I'm all out of razors

And all I got is a gun left with a bayonet on it

Neck so frozen it look like I walked in a jewelry store

With about a million dollars with your mama

And sat down and did an ALS challenge

Hah, I stole that adlib from French

Bad & Evil back at it again

About to get my back tatted again

About to get a pic of a backstabber with an axe in his hand (Woo)

Sittin' on a bike in the sand

If you ain't been through nothin'

Then that shouldn't mean nothin' to you like likes on the 'Gram

If she current, I keep her pussy purrin' like the pipes on a Lamb

Weed got her so chinky-eyed

Look like she been gettin' high on a flight to Japan

I keep my jewelry on while I'm fuckin'

Sound like I'm shakin' up dice in a can

Listen, though this ain't Christmas

I make you my ex miss if this is my passion (Is my pasion)

I learn to give those who don't appreciate my presence

The gift of my absence (Bitch, I'm gone)

I don't know who you been listenin' to

Got me fucked up like Pookie in the chicken coop

Bitch, I don't give a two shits

(Bitch, get the fuck out of my face)

To make a long story short, I don't really gotta stand there

And listen to you while you throw a silly tantrum

Even though I have an affinity for a witty banter

Startin' to feel like foulplay like Billy Laimbeer

Hol' up, she misunderstood me, I said say, por favor

Thought I said the Wraith had four doors

I knock a nigga face off

Give him the bottom of the 9 like a baseball scoreboard (Whatever)

I leave the club with my tab still open

Won't even get a cab for you and yo' friend

The only fear I have is of loathin'

And I won't even kick in 'til we get to Las Vegas

[Pre-Chorus: Eminem]

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow, no sorrow)

Vegas

'Til we get to Las Vegas

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow)

(No sorrows)

Vegas

'Till we get to Las Vegas

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow, no sorrow)

Vegas

'Til we get to Las Vegas

(Party, do it 'til tomorrow)

Vegas

[Chorus: Eminem]

Whatever happens here, stays here

So let's go all the way dear

'Til we get to Las Vegas