8

Lyckety-Splyt: Listen up now! Leaders in the Free World in the motherfucking house. Me and Papa Doc will battle any motherfuckers here.

Future: Fuck the Free World.

Cheddar Bob: Yeah! Fuck the Free World!

Lyckety-Splyt: Fuck the Free World? You 313 bitches is wack. Ayo, fat ass! Yeah, I'm talking about your man Sol. I better kick you in your chest and porkchops fall out your asshole. You cats is pussy, soft like wet flowers. Leaders of the Free World here to smash on you cowards. Look at Future.

Future: Look, don't even start, nigga.

Papa Doc: What you gonna do about it, faggot?

Future: Who are you calling a faggot?

Papa Doc: Don't play yourself, bitch.

Lyckety-Splyt: Hold up! Yo, Elvis. You don't wanna step to this. You need to take that white rap shit of yours back across 8 Mile. Caught your choke act at the shelter last night.

[Lyckety-Splyt started imitating a cough, Jimmy makes him fall in the car Hood, then a fight begins]

Female Lunch Truck Rapper: [Rapping] Man, I'm so sick and tired of fucking with this steel. They only give us thirty minutes to eat lunch and chill. My body achin', just to get a buck. I'm sick of eating this shit off this fucking lunch truck. Nasty ass food, I'm in a nasty ass mood. I should've called in sick. Shit, I had something to do.

Male Lunch Truck Rapper: [Rapping] I can't believe I'm hearing all this ravin' and rantin', from Vanessa, up in here at the New Detroit stampin. You need to get your food and take your ass back to work. Your dreamin' if you think them corny ass raps will work. Look at ya'll out here, freezin' like dumb fucks, rappin' away for food off this raggedy lunch truck. Who want what? Who pumped up to get rolled up? I spit venom in every direction, soak some up. Look at this fatass nigga. Sloppy sucker. You an ugly motherfucker. Your pop should've wore a rubber. Stop rhymin', keep your day job, Vanessa. Next time leave that bullshit home on the dresser. Speaking of dresses, take a look at Paul the fruitcake! When you travel you probably pack panties in your suitcase. Made out of lace from Victoria's secret. If ten men came in a cup, you'd probably drink it.

B. Rabbit: [Rapping] Okay folks, enough with the gay jokes. Especially from a gay broke bitch yourself, hey lo? This guys' a doo doo. You've worked here longer then me, and I get paid more then you do. Dawg, take a seat. What's this guy standing in line for? He ain't got money to eat! Check this out. Yo yo, this guy cashed his whole paycheck, and bought one ho ho. Fucking homo. Little maggot. You can't hack it. Paul's gay, you're a faggot. At least he admits it. Don't even risk it. This guys' starvin' to death. Someone get him a biscuit! I don't know what they told you, Mike. You must had them cornrows rolled too tight. This job, you wanna quit, but you can't. You've worked at this plant so long, you're a plant. Look at your goddamn boots. For Christ's sakes, they're starting to grow roots! On this mic you get faded. You look like a pissed off rapper who never made it. Hey, why you fucking with the gay guy, G? When really you're the one who's got the HIV. Man, I'm done with this clown. It's off. Fuck it, I'll let home girl finish you off.