Monday, November 20, 2006

Eminem: Last 3 Battles From The Movie 8 Mile

The Last 3 Battles - video powered by Metacafe

Last 3 Battles From 8 Mile
Cheddar: They're calling you!
You drew Lyckety-Splyt in the first round.
You okay with that?

Jimmy: Yeah.
I don't give a fuck who it is.

Cheddar: Okay.

Future: Where the fuck is B-Rabbit?
Come to the stage.
You got everybody waiting.
It's gonna be blazin' in this bitch tonight.
We got a lot of dope rappers, and at the end of the night... one will battle last week's winner, Papa Doc.
This shit will be off the hook, so stick around.
Come to the stage, Rabbit.
Come to the stage!
B-Rabbit, where you at?
There he is. Come on.
Make way for the Rabbit.
Let him through.
Let the artist get to the motherfucking stage.
Come on, B-Rabbit.
Let him up.
You good?

Lyckety-Splyt: Heads.

Future: You got it.

Lyckety-Splyt: I'll go first against this choke artist.

Future: You got enough confidence.
Do your thing! Forty-five seconds.
Spin that shit!

Lyckety-Splyt: Free World, nigga.
I'll tell you something
Check this out
This guy's a choke artist
You catch a bad one
You better off shootin' yourself with Papa Doc's handgun
Climbing up this mountain
You're weak
I leave you lost without a paddle
Floating up shit's creek
You ain't Detroit, I'm the D
You the New Kid on the Block
'Bout to get smacked back to the boondocks
Fucking Nazi, your squad ain't your type
Take some real advice
Form a group with Vanilla Ice
What I tell you, you better use it
This guy's a hillbilly
This ain't Willie Nelson music
Trailer trash
I'll choke you to your last breath
Have you look foolish like
Cheddar Bob when he shot himself
Silly Rabbit,
I know why you called that
You follow Future
Like he got carrots up his ass crack
When you acted up,
You got jacked up
Left stupid like Tina Turner
when she got smacked up
I'll crack your shoulder blade
You'll drop so hard Elvis'll turn in his grave
I don't know why they let you out in the dark?
Take your white ass across 8 Mile to the trailer park

Future: Okay, okay.
Very nice, very nice.
Let me get that mike.
Pretty good. Hip-hop 101.
Bunny Rabbit, it's your turn, baby.
Forty-five seconds.
Let this motherfucker feel it!
DJ, spin that shit!

Cheddar: Come on, Rabbit!

Lyckety-Splyt: Don't choke this time.

Jimmy: All right, look.

Heckler: He's choking!

Jimmy: Hey, yo
This guy raps like his parents jerked him
He sounds like Erick Sermon
The generic version
This crowd looks suspicious
It's all dudes here, except for these bitches
So I'm a German, eh?
That's okay
You look like a fuckin' worm with braids
These Leadaz Of Tha Free World rookies
How can six dicks be pussies?
Talkin' about shit's creek?
You could be up piss creek with paddles, this deep
You're still gonna sink
You're a disgrace
Yeah, they call me Rabbit
This is a turtle race
He can't get with me, spittin' this shit
Wickedly lickin' these shots
To spiggy, spiggity split lickety
Now I'm gonna turn around with a great smile
And walk my white ass back across 8 Mile

Future: Say no more!
That's what I'm talking about.
It's unanimous!
Bunny Rabbit goes to the next round!
Lyckety, tell your momma
I'll be over later.
She can save me a plate.

Lil' Tic: You killed him. Good shit.

Future: That's what I'm saying.
Hold up, hold up.
Next up, we got...
Ox and Strike.
Come to the stage, motherfuckers.
Yo, Rabbit!

Future: Okay, B-Rabbit. Call it.

Jimmy: Heads.

Future: Heads. Choose.
Lotto, it's on you, baby. You first.

Lotto: Don't matter.

Future: DJ, spin that shit!

Cheddar: He's always taking his shirt off.

Lotto: I'm gonna smash this bastard.
Free World in the motherfuckin' house.
It's time to get rid of this coward once and for all.
I'm sick of this motherfucker.

Papa Doc: Rip him, Lotto! Rip him, baby!

Lotto: I'll spit a racial slur, honky
Sue me
This shit is a horror flick
But the black guy doesn't die in this movie
Fuckin' with Lotto
You got to be kiddin'
That makes me believe you've no interest in livin'
You think these niggas gonna feel the shit you say?
I got a better chance joining the KKK
On some real shit, though?
I like you
That's why I didn't want to be the one you commit suicide to
Fuck Lotto
Call me your leader
I feel bad I gotta murder that dude from Leave it to Beaver
I used to like that show
Now I'm in fight-back mode
Oh, well
If you got to go, you got to go
I hate to do this
I'd love for this shit to last
I'll take pictures of my rear end
So you won't forget my ass
All's well that ends okay
So I'll end this shit with
"Fuck you, but have a nice day!"

Future: Whoa, okay, okay.
Can't be mad, can't be bad.

Papa Doc: You killed that fucked-up white boy.

Sol: That ain't shit.

Future: Settle down.
Give the man a chance.
Bunny Rabbit's up next.
All right, B-Rabbit.
You got the mike. It's on you.
You know what to do.
DJ, spin that shit!

Lotto: You got something?

Papa Doc: You can't fuck with us!

Lotto: Let's see what you got.

Sol: Come on, Rabbit!

Cheddar: Get him!

Jimmy: "Ward, I think you were a little hard on the Beaver"
So was Eddie Haskell,
Wally and Miz Cleaver
This guy keeps screaming
He's paranoid
Quick, someone get his ass another steroid
Blah-biddy, bloo-blah
blah-blah-biddy, bloo-blah
I ain't hear a word you said
Hippety hoo-plah
Is that a tank top or a new bra?
Look, Snoop Dogg just got a fuckin' boob job
Didn't you listen to the last round, meathead?
Pay attention
You're saying the same shit he said
Matter of fact, dawg
Here's a pencil
Go home, write some shit
Make it suspenseful
Don't come back 'til something dope hits you
Fuck it
You can take the mic home wit' you
Lookin' like a cyclone hit you
Tank top screaming,
"Lotto, I don't fit you!"
You see how far them white jokes get you
Boys like,
"How's Vanilla Ice gon' dis you?"
My motto: Fuck Lotto
I'll get the seven digits from your
mother for a dollar tomorrow

Future: It's real as it feels!
Hold on! That was some close shit.
Let's see what's poppin'.
How y'all feel about Lotto?
Okay! B-Rabbit?
Let's do it again.
It's hard to judge.
We'll start with Lotto.
Okay, lotta love, lotta love!
What about B-Rabbit?
Say no more!
B-Rabbit advances to the next round!
He goes to the finals against Papa Doc!
That's the way it's going down.
Okay, check this.
15-minute intermission.
Make sure you tip the bartenders.
15 minutes.
You did your thing, man.

Lyckety-Splyt: That's okay, 'cause Wink got more than seven digits from your bitch!
You did it, kid.

Cheddar: Fuck him. Fuck Lyckety, man.

Jimmy: That Beaver line almost killed me.

SOL: But you flipped it.

Future: You got it, man.
You're a fucking genius.
Make sure you serve this clown
in the next round for me.

Whip Papa Doc's ass!
He's got no vocabulary.

Cheddar: You worried about what he'll say?

Jimmy: What do you mean?

Cheddar: About Wink and that Alex bitch getting it on...
and them beating you up and giving you a black eye and shit.

Sol: Cheddar!
Future: Fuck that. Listen to me.
You're making history tonight.
Yeah, he ain't nothing. You got it!
You got this.

Future: All right.
You know what's happening.
It's the championship round.
Yes, believe it's real.
It's time. We got Papa Doc... and we got B-Rabbit.
I don't have to stress how important this is.
It's the championship.
This motherfucker is what we came to see.
That's why the fuck we're in the D.
We represent. We at The Shelter.
It's real. I hope you're all ready.
This shit is about to be crackolatin' in here.
Hold on.
Let's do the coin toss.
As Papa Doc is defending champion, you get to choose.
What do you want, heads or tails?

Papa Doc: Heads.

Future: Okay. Who goes first?

Papa Doc: Let that bitch go first.

Future: I can't believe my ears.
A lot of hostility.
Papa's got a lot of anger.
All right, check this out.
We got new rules.
Being it's the championship round, each of these cats... gets a minute and a half apiece.
I don't know what'll happen!
B-Rabbit... you know what to do.
DJ, kick that shit.

Jimmy: Now everybody from the 313
Put your motherfuckin' hands up and follow me
Everybody from the 313
Put your motherfuckin' hands up
Look, look
Now while he stands tough
Notice this man did not have his hands up
This Free World's got you gassed up
Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?
One, two, three and to the four
One Pac, two Pac, three Pac, four
Four Pac, three Pac, two Pac, one
You're Pac, he's Pac,
you're Pac none
This guy's no motherfuckin' MC
I know everything he's got to say against me
I am white
I am a fuckin' bum
I do live in a trailer with my mom
My boy Future is an Uncle Tom
I do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob
Who shoots himself in his leg with his own gun
I did get jumped by all six of you chumps
And Wink did fuck my girl
I'm still standing here screaming "Fuck Tha Free World"
Don't ever try to judge me, dude
You don't know what the fuck I've been through
But I know something about you
You went to Cranbrook
That's a private school
What's the matter, dawg?
You embarrassed?
This guy's a gangsta?
His real name's Clarence
Clarence lives at home with both parents
Clarence's parents have a real good marriage
This guy don't wanna battle
He's shook
'Cause ain't no such thing as halfway crooks
He's scared to death
He's scared to look in his fucking yearbook
Fuck Cranbrook

Fuck a beat
I go a cappella
Fuck a Papa Doc
Fuck a clock
Fuck a trailer
Fuck everybody
Fuck y'all if you doubt me
I'm a piece of fuckin' white trash
I say it proudly
Fuck this battle
I don't want to win, I'm outtie
Here, tell these people something they don't know about me

Future: Papa Doc, what are you gonna do?
A minute and a half! Spin that shit!
Spin that shit!

Crowd: Crook!

Papa Doc: Yo.

Future: We got a new champion! B-Rabbit!

Papa Doc: Let's roll, man.

Crowd: Fuck Free World! Three-One-Three!

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