conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Eminem Freestyles on Tim Westwood | 2009 with the following description: Tim Westwood is a DJ who has had a show for years on BBC Radio 1 and Radio 1 Xtra.  Eminem has been on his show freestyling several times over the years.
  
  
   Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Prelude: Eminem, 
  Mr. Porter
   & 
  Tim Westwood
  ]
  Yo blast me off, Tim
  Where's that boom?
  Blast me off, son
  Pew, pew, pew- pew, pew!
  The bombs, man!
  Right now, we're doin' this for Beijing, baby, understand how it's goin' down
  That's how he talk
  Blastin' off right now, son!
  Real big, real legendary up in the game
  Yeah
  Drippin' in swagger juice
  Yeah
  We ready to go in this?
  Yeah, yeah
  [Part I: "Respect My Conglomerate" by Busta Rhymes]
  [Intro 1: Eminem, 
  Mr. Porter
   & 
  Tim Westwood
  ]
  Are we swaggered up?
  Swaggered up, yeah
  Let's do it, baby, Radio 1, Westwood, sample's about to go down
  Check my swag
  Eminem, Kon, baby, Alchemist, we're doin' it like this
  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
  Let's go, baby
  A'ight, a'ight, look [Verse 1: Eminem]
  I wasn't born mean, I was pushed to treachery
  I walk the streets, lookin' for some puss to fetch me
  I'm like a veggie, brain is turned to mush, I'm edgy
  Edgy enough to give Reggie Bush a wedgie
  If he don't gimme Kim, things could get messy
  So pass that ass to me, let me squish the left cheek
  And press against the right one 'til it's smushed against me
  And leave a dead body in the woods, 
  the emcee
  With the Christopher Reeves beef, we started off on the wrong foot
  Or should I say fake leg made outta wood?
  I shouldn't, yes, I should
  Ridin' through the hood, I'm chillin' with Westwood
  I'm quite mellow, a white fellow
  My pee is bright yellow, I like Jell-O
  I'm like, "Hello," to a cute little dyke on the mic
  I'm kinda like Iron Mike 'cause I bite earlobes
  [Interlude 1: Mr. Porter & 
  Eminem
  ]
  Yeah
  Well, I must must say (
  Yeah?
  )
  Well, um, I'm just not gay
  Well, um, I must must say
  Um, well, look- (
  Mr. Porter, son
  )
  [Verse 2: Mr. Porter]
  See I'm the first one to class and the last to leave
  I mean the first one to leave outta class, believe
  That I'm a mailbox pimp in my heart 'til I die
  Even after I'm all gone and my ashes fried
  Went from an ashy guy, class clown as high
  To a grown-ass man stackin' motherfuckin' paper
  Runyon Ave.'s the clique, D12's the game
  We've been spittin' this shit since we was little bébés
  Gaga goo goo, nana, nani do do, never
  Word to my homie Em, I'm just too too clever
  A 4-5 shot'll leave a nigga's face lop-sided
  The kick from the barrel make you think I'm cock-eyeded,
   
  When I bust it off in the crowd, niggas start divin'
  Greg Louganis went over the bar, I ain't lyin'
  Hot iron lethals, not defyin' a soldier
  Runyon Ave. soldier equals death when it's over
  It's none colder than niggas that understand the struggle
  Apply the street-muscle, we've been had to hustle
  We've been had to hustle, we've been had to muscle
  Apply the street hustle, we've been had to hustle [Verse 3: Eminem & 
  Mr. Porter
  ]
  Yeah, aight
  Me and Westwood, blastin' off, jackin' off
  In a pair of acid-washed, bumpin' Asher Roth
  Cruisin' Gratiot 'til I damn near crashed the car
  I'm tryna smash 'em off in the dash
  , hit the overpass, went off (
  Woo!
  )
  Over the bridge, into oncoming traffic, caused
  A massive forty-two car pile-up, not a scratch at all (
  Woo!
  )
  Hopped up holdin' an axe and saw
  Jason mask is off when my face is plastered in tabasco sauce
  Spittin' flames, kickin' fire out your ass, you little bastard
  You can pass it on, I'm battery acid, dawg
  You don't wanna get my ass ticked off
  I'm harder than playin' basketball while I'm goin' through crack withdrawal
   (
  Woo!
  )
  Dick so big it's like elastic
  I tie it in a knot and it looks like Mr. Fantastic crossed
  The path of Plastic Man with a drastic force
  And went spastic,
   
  put my penis on classic sports (
  Look
  )
  [Interlude 3: Mr. Porter]
  Woo!
  God, look, look-
  [Verse 4: Mr. Porter & 
  Eminem
  ]
  I shoot straight off the hip, trey-eight off the rip
  But see, I ain't fo' that shit
  I got a fist print fo' yo' lip
  Lookin' shit is swole up like the stomach on a fat pregnant bitch
  And it's evident that I get chips like the president
  Been a lotta rules, keep the tools for the haters left
  Niggas ain't fadin' 'em, seal a crack, do a trim
  Got a lot of dough, but you know I ain't trickin' on 'em
  Get some head spinnin' on 'em, keep the head spinnin' on 'em
  See, I ain't diggin' on 'em, keep the head hidden from 'em
  You know how it go, no dough trickin' on 'em
  She just wanna blow, see what she can get from 'em
  But she don't know my name, I'm 'bout the game, I'm pickin' on her
  Wrist so cold that my left hand's numb as summer
  I rip a hole 'til she don't want you gettin' on her
  She makes you wonder if the women even want ya
  Mr. Porter, keep a ho in order
  Learned it from my daddy, I teach it to my daughter (
  Yeah
  )
  Ya ought to know the quota of my whole workout
  I float like Noah and I don't want the boat to rover bounce [Interlude 4: Eminem & 
  Mr. Porter
  ]
  Ahaha, yeah
  Yeah, ayy, let's change that beat, homie
  Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
  Where's the swag juice, Al?
  Come on, homie
  Swag drip
  Swag is dryin' up right now
  Where's the swag?
  [Part II: "Microphone" by Slaughterhouse]
  [Interlude 5: Eminem]
  Yeah, yeah, yeah
  Yeah, yeah, yeah
  Alright, alright
  Yeah, yeah
  Yo
  [Verse 5: Eminem]
  Once again, it's the sinister, cynical, minister Shady
  Kryptonite to Superman, he's a dentist to Amy
  Administer of the pain, just finished huffin' the paint
  And muffled the fumes like it was nothin', because it ain't
  Anything in his way, his enemies he just slays
  His venom he spray reaches like beams of energy rays
  Menacin' stares, he glares, makin' the hairs
  All on the back of yo' neck stand like Dracula, yep
  Spectacular rep, he's a tarantula, gargantuan
  Yeah, Angela, so I command you to start dancin'
  Part Manson, part Hannibal, part mechanical shark
  Throwin' animal parts at Scarlett Johansson
  Enter my gas chamber, you're gangsta my ass
  He's got his fangs to your neck, he's set to strangle ya ass, hater
  You're facin' a task greater, he's chasin' your ass
  He's got his face in a mask, your bloodstains on his glass table
  [Verse 6: Mr. Porter]
  I'm so obnoxious, open hand slap a nigga, you wouldn't
  See, you couldn't, you went off cryin' like Cuba Gooding
  I swan dive in your bitch pussy, I call her puddin'
  She love her some nani, I love the bitch cookin'
  Scrap back, you niggas weak as Chuck Nevitt
  I fuck buckin' naked; Jesus piece swing reckless
  Entrepo-po head honcho, hope you're ready 'fore
  I pop his ass, nigga, kickin' through your door
  You send goons to do your work
  I send goons to mamas in church, I've been a problem since birth
  Got a middle finger up her skirt
  I don't ask a bitch on a date, I ask her can I fuck her first
  See y'all with this Runyon shit
  I made somethin' out of nothin', I'm a hustler, bitch
  I keep a 9 tucked, burnin' up the side of my hip
  Gotta make a hit for any nigga for fifty-thousand chips
  [Interlude: Mr. Porter & 
  Eminem
  ]
  Bitch!
  Yeah, yeah, yeah
  Aight
  [Verse 7: Eminem]
  I'm checking the exposure of photos of me exposing
  Myself locked inside of a cozy hotel, posing
  With or without clothing, next to the decomposing
  Bodies eroding while I'm dozing off, overdosing
  Windows opening, shutting, doors opening, closing
  I think there's a ghost, 
  too much hydrocodone and codeine
  I was only s'posed to swallow a half, I took the whole thing
  I'm not joking, I think I just snorted my nose ring
  I need a drink, I'm standin' over the sink, posing
  Myself, self-loathing, 'cause I'm on a brink, mostly
  I don't wanna think, "This will make everything rosy"
  Beverly sings, scream while I'm severing three toe-sies
  Totally frozen while I close in, 
  I'm yodeling
  "Rosey, won't you come out to play?" Ain’t no sense
  Wasting time, cutting and pasting headlines in the papers
  Making shrines of my crimes and capers
  My words are whirlwinds, I murder my girlfriends
  Go to Europe and put Neurofens in my syrup and stir them
  You never heard him like this, so don't encourage him
  The neurosurgeon, coke mirrors, and lyrics worse than
  The kinda person to get Katie Couric to cursin'
  Eighty spirits of ladies 'cause Shady murdered the virgins
  Crazy turn of events, and then he emerged, took
  Over the world and reeled in all the children
  Lured 'em into the buildin' and killed 'em
  Buried 'em in the mulch and mildew and he will do what he feels,
   
  and
  Still can spin straw into gold like Rumpelstiltskin
  Cotton to silk, Motrin to Tylenol— three pills, 
  the Real Slim
  Shady's entered the buildin'
  There's nothin' but crumbled leaves and tumbleweeds up in this bitch, Mildrid
  He's ill wit' it, he still shouldn't be healed
  There's no one as sick as he
  , 
  emcees'll get fricasseed on the grill then
  [Interlude 7: Mr. Porter]
  Woah
  Alright
  [Part III: "Chonkyfire" by Outkast]
  [Interlude 8: Mr. Porter & 
  Tim Westwood
   & 
  Eminem
  ]
  Fuck that! Aha
  Right now
  Ahahahaha
  Building's on fire
  Fuck you, Em!
  You want to start with the hook first?
  Oh, okay
  I have no idea what I'm doing
  I have no idea what I'm doing, but
  [Verse 8: Eminem]
  Everybody get up, sit up, Christopher
  They're miserable without you, Superman is a-
  -live and he's flowin' like the Mystic River
  Girl, don't act like you've never been kissed before
  One, two, three, four, five, six, this-a
  Rhyme is about to hit you right in the kisser
  How did anybody ever find me? I disa-
  -ppeared, 
  I was hidin' in Freeway's beard,
   
  just a
  Hop, skip and I jump from my skin gushin'
  Nails into my face that I've been pushin'
  Hellraiser, my face is my pin cushion
  It's like when I'm on the mic, I can squish a
  Sucker like a vise grip, my pen put ya
  In the slaughterhouse, 'cause your style's been butchered
  I'll spin chainsaw, take off, like the blades on
  My brain's on hyperdrive, someone put the brakes on
  [Chorus: Eminem & 
  Mr. Porter
  , 
  both
  ]
  Here's a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, Bridget
  Don't try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice
  Now here's a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, Bridget
  Don't try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit (
  Huh-uh
  )
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice (
  Yeah
  )
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice (
  Okay, look
  )
  [Verse 9: Mr. Porter]
  I got it figured out now, nigga, see
  My-My mind's right, money right, can't nobody stoppin' how I get it
  In hindsight, I never should'a left where I was livin'
  I pro'bly wouldn't be gettin' pressed by all these women
  But then again, I wouldn't have met the ones that I was diggin'
  Sanaa Lathan lookin', talk a lot
  Don't she like Lil Kim and Kim and, uh, Serena Williams?
  Just like my [?] I'm a regular Charles Dickens
  Bitch, called me talkin' 'bout she pregnant
  She praised me, 
  so I Mannie Fresh'd that ho and left baby
  I'll never trust her, no
  Shit, even if she specialize in mouth, massagin' my testicles
  I never trust her a whole lot
  Even on the first day we met, she's basically gettin' her mouth raped
  Then turned around and ask me for a kiss, "No, bitch, I'm straight"
  I never really been concerned with how my own dick taste
  [Pre-Chorus: Mr. Porter & 
  Eminem
  ]
  I think I'm 'bout to slip on my swag juice
  I think I'm 'bout to slip on your swag juice
  Oh no! No, no, don't slip on your swag juice!
  Yeah, yeah, I think I'm 'bout to slip on my swag juice
  [Chorus: Eminem & 
  Mr. Porter
  , 
  both
  ]
  So here's a
   smidgen, a midget to get your 
  digits, Bridget
  Don't try to 
  fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice,
   alright, 
  ayy
  [Verse 10: Eminem]
  Slim is in the house, simmer down there, sister
  Bound to get you dizzy, 'cause he gets as busy as a
  Bee- baby, you could throw a frisbee in a blizzard
  He'll catch it in his teeth, what is he? He's a wizard
  Standin' in the disco with a disco biscuit
  And I'm pretty sure it isn't Bisquick, is it?
  Now, baby, don't forget to bring your lipstick wit' ya
  I want the kiss 'fore I blow this bitch to smithe-
  -reens, get the guillotines, this is a situ-
  -ation that's critical as Dre spins his, uh
  Turntables and he cuts the record like a scissor
  Checka-chicky-checka-chicky-checka-checka-chicka
  We'll wreck it in a second, tell me what the heck is sicker?
  Wait a minute, I just dropped my necklace in the liquor
  Now, baby, just to make a little breakfast and it's six o'-
  -clock in the mornin', 'less you want to get some dessert
  [Chorus: Eminem & 
  Mr. Porter
  , 
  both
  ]
  So here's a smidgen, a midget
   
  to get your Bridgets, digit
  Don't try to fidget with it,
   
  ribbit ribbit
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice
  I said, here's a smidgen, a midget to get your digits, Bridget
  Don't try to fidget with it, ribbit ribbit
  I got you slippin' on my swag juice, my swag juice
  I got you slippin' on my swag,
   my 
  swag juice
  [Outro: Eminem, 
  Mr. Porter
   & 
  Tim Westwood
  , 
  Eminem & Mr. Porter
  ]
  Yeah!
  Hahahahaha
  Hahahahaha
  Ayo
  Just so everybody knows, that was a hook
  That we made on the way to the radio station
  And we were tryin' to get it right
  So we may have fucked it up a couple times or whatever, but
  This is what we were tryin' to, like, work out before we came here
  Especially for Westwood, man! 'Specially for you, homie!
  Damn, Eminem! Thanks for listening, baby