Текст песни Eminem, Dr. Dre, 50 Cent ft Александр Маршал — Crack A Bottle

So crack a bottle, let your body waddle,
Don't act like a snobby model, you just hit the lotto,
Uh-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe,
Got one riding shotgun
Аnd not one of them got clothes,
Now where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?
I notice there's so many of them
And there's really not that many of us,
And ladies love us, my posse's kicking up dust,
It's on till the break of dawn
And we're starting this party from dusk

Back wit Andre, the giant, mister elephant tusk,
Picture us, you'll just be another one bit the dust
Just one of my mothers sons
Who got thrown under the bus,
Kiss my butt,
Lick the fumunda cheese from under my nuts,
It disgusts me to see the game the way that it looks
It's a must I redeem my name n haters get mushed,
Bitches lust, man, they love me when I lay in the cut,
Fist the cup, the lady gave her eighty some paper cut,
Now picture us. It's ridiculous you curse at the thought
Cuz when I spit the verse the shit
Gets worse then worcestershire sauce,
If I could fit the words as picture perfect,
Works every time,
Every verse, every line, as simple as nursery rhymes,
It's elementary. The elephants have entered the room.
I venture to say we're the center of attention it's true,
Not to mention back with a vengeance
So here's the signal of the bad symbol,
The platinum trio's back on you, hoes

They see that low rider go by they're like Oh my!
You ain't got to tell me why you're sick cuz I know why,
I dip through in that Six trey like sick 'em Dre,
I'm an itch that they can't scratch, they sick of me,
But hey, what else can I say? I love LA.
Cuz over and above all, it's just another day
And this one begins where the last one ends,
Pick up where we left off and get smashed again.
I'll be dammed,
Just fucked around and crashed my Benz,
Driving around with a smashed front end
Let's cash that one in,
Grab another one from out the stable
The Monte Carlo, El Camino or the El Dorado
The hell if I know,
Do I want leather seats or vinyl?
Decisions, decisions
Garage looks like Precision Collision
Or Maaco beats quake like Waco
Just keep the bass low
Speakers away from your face though

It's bottle after bottle
The money ain't a thing when you party with me,
It's what we into it's simple,
We ball out of control like you wouldn't believe
I'm the napalm, the bomb, the don, I'm King Kong,
Get rolled on wrapped up and reigned on
I'm so calm through Vietnam ring the alarm,
Burn marijuana, do what you want
Nigga on and on till the break of what
Get the paper, man,
I'm caking you know I don't give a fuck,
I spend it like it don't mean nothing
Blow it like it's supposed to be blown
Motherfucker I'm grown,
I stunt, I style, I flash the shit,
I get what the fuck I want, so what I trick,
Fat ass, burgundy bags, classy shit,
Jimmy Choo shoes,
I say move a bitch move