conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Calm Down with the following description: Busta Rhymes and Eminem come together for “Calm Down,” their fourth collaboration after their first in 2003 on the “Hail Mary (Ja Rule Diss)” along with two other collaborations in 2006 on Busta’s “I’ll Hurt You” and “Touch It (Remix 2.0).” In an interview with Rolling Stone, Busta described the track:
  It’s a bare bones hip-hop, fundamental, boom-bap record. It’s samples, hard kicks, hard snares and a whole lot of fucking bars of rapping with both metaphors and punchlines. It’s a friendly reminder to today’s generation of what this whole thing is based on.
  Busta went in-depth with HipHopDX and Complex about the process of making the song, which he says initially was a solo record but he wanted Eminem on the track, leading to approximately seven months of waiting and back-and-forth adjustments before the song was completed.
  The trailer for “Calm Down”:
  
  
  
  Annotated Cover Art. Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Intro: Busta Rhymes]
  Turn my mic up
  Turn my mic up
  [Chorus: Busta Rhymes]
  (Ready on the right) Ayo, calm down, nigga
  (Ready on the left) Ayo, calm down, nigga
  (Ready on the right) Ayo, calm down, nigga
  (Ready on the left) 
  Fuck it, blackout, niggas!
  [Verse 1: Busta Rhymes]
  (Oh, my Lord!) Lower the casket down (Down!)
  Sprinkle the ash, or get your ass kicked, pow! (Pow!)
  Frown while I shit on your crown, skip town (Town!)
  Ground zero, Shapiro, the king cash cow (Cow—Cow)
  Do I make 'em say "Wow!"? Strip! (Ow!)
  Bow! I sit with the pound, 
  Click, (Blaow!) Blaow!
  Click, click, (Blaow!) Click, (Blaow!)
  Stop traffic, dropping them classics, flip now
  Bitches, I’m making them skip with thou
  Art, you don’t really want start, when I growl (Growl)
  (Rawr, rawr, rawr!)
  Let me come and mop up the knockoffs​
  When I pop off and never stop, 'cause
  When we do come through, you better lock doors (Pause!)
  The wolves wanna eat, peep how they lock jaws
  No need to cook up the coke, you see? We cop raw
  And if you ain’t had enough—
  What in the fat fishes of a phenomenal fahrvergnügen fuck is going on?
  Back with the B.A Baracus, callous bang, on another song
  I’mma have these niggas nervous
  And clipping they nails and dribbling
  And witness them, nibble them, like sunflower seed shells
  See these scales, got my weight up heavy, like three whales
  And I shit on these males, till it's stinkin'
  Fouler, than a weed smell, 
  nigga, your tree fell
  See how they Twitter, Facebook and Instagramming an email?
  Talking I'm sick, I got them shook and I bang 'em at retail
  Until they cripple, 
  see I cook, like I’m slanging a weed sale
  Until I triple bred, and whoop ‘em and drag 'em like females (*Gasp!*)
  Oh, see well, these niggas already know
  The way that I fuck shit up, minus the details, the case is shut
  Your bitch remind me of replacement butt
  Kind of an ancient slut, 
  it's going down
  Like she was a basement fuck
  Swell up this shit, like I’m sticking steaks in they gut
  So gracefully and graciously, I painfully wake niggas up
  Ragdolling these niggas, and attacking
  Like apes in the cut, 
  I’m waiting for the taking
  While I break niggas neck, like a bracelet (Fuck!)
  It’s kinda like me having a case in the truck
  And drinking ‘til I’m blasted
  Harassing and erase a nigga (What!?)
  Keeping 'em open and blacking until I’m leaving ‘em stuck
  And got ‘em happier, than a child in a park chasing a duck
  While I’m chasing a buck
  These funny niggas be chasing they luck
  I be lacing them up, like boots
  When I’m pushing they face in the mud— (Ahh!)
  Missiles I fling, while I spit live wire
  ‘Til this shit circling back around
  With more fire for me to melt a brick surfacing back a sound
  While I light up shit that'll cause a quick 
  worship
  And
   gather around, it's 
  certain this shit'll splatter cliques
  Painful and make ‘em scatter (Blink!)
  Shameful, the way I shatter (Split!)
  Shit apart, it doesn't matter (Rip!)
  Your head up off your shoulders (With)
  Bullets bigger than a boulder
  And they break ‘em and they know it's (Classic!)
  And the way it’s going, you could easily get your (ass-kicked)
  See, me and Shady together; we’re crazy
  Like baking a vomit and rabies cake, like a pastry bitch
  (We that sick!)
   
  Like I come from Haiti
  I’m suggesting you pay me, don’t make me wanna spaz
  (Al-la-la!) Like I’m a crazy Israeli (Bastards!)
  While I bite the beat up, and I'm starting to heat up (Yack!)
  I’m chopping your foot off
  Now it’s mine, and I’m putting my feet up (Black!)
  Back to the hood and off to the wild
  And I’m hoping you protect your child
  And I been blacking out so long
  Niggas is asking if the hook had died, nah
  But the beat is fried! [Chorus: Busta Rhymes + 
  Sample
  ]
  Yo
  (Ready on the right) Ayo, calm down, nigga
  (Ready on the left) Ayo, calm down, nigga
  (Ready on-)
  (
  "Yo, chill, man—chill!"
  )
  (Ready on the right) Ayo, calm down, nigga
  (Ready on the left) Ayo, calm down, nigga
  (Ready on the right) Ayo, calm down, nigga
  (Ready on the left) 
  Fuck it, blackout, niggas!
  [Verse 2: Eminem]
  Apparently, there's a light contagiousness to this tirade
  It just might make you sick, so irate
  With this my brain is just like a fucking fried egg
  Is my mind scrambled? 'Cause I'm lit—narrow minded
  But go through such a wide range of this emotion
  That my rage has gotta squeeze through it sideways
  I just pulled up in Clive Davis's driveway
  With his personal memoir, saying "He's bi!"
  Waving a nine, a picket sign, egging his ride
  Making him cry, "Rape!"—
  then arrive naked
  And drive straight through the gay pride parade
  "Yay! Yippee-Ki-Yay!", 'cause here I—
  Wait, did the world just pee on my leg?
  And should I take it as a sign
  Maybe to take 'em back into time? (Shady!)
  I stuck out like a sore thumb, so I gave 'em the finger
  To take the attention away
  From my stinking face it was bringing
  Changed the whole complexion of the game
  But just in case you was thinking an inkling of replacing
  The kingpin of crazy, you're wasting your ink then
  So if this is any indication of what you may be facing
  You better make a distinction 'cause you fake imitations
  Are leaving a bad taste, fuck making a bad impression
  That's the worst impersonation I've ever seen, and
  Who raps nasally? Eyes hazely?
  Rhymes crazily, but sounds like he may
  Need some Flonase when he's speaking?
  What kind of stupid question is that?
  "Hey, Mrs. Abraham Lincoln!
  Other than your husband's fucking brains that were leaking
  How'd you think that play was this weekend?"
  You ain't the real Slim Shady, sit your ass down, faggot (Ew)
  See me on a ballot, I'm running for class clown
  Rich Democrat, bitch, so I'm just the candidate
  To come fuck up the whole party
  Me and Flipmode starting a campaign
  To have every campus, on a fucking rampage
  Act my goddamn age? I am—eight!
  So let's get smashed
   
  and wake up the next day
  With the room trashed, covered in Band-Aids
  Glass ashtray smashed
  Champagne splashed on the lampshades
  But this ain't up for debate, this is undebatable
  Shady for president, ho, don't make me go take it back
  To the days of old,
   
  with Sway & Tech radio
  When I was taking so much NoDoz and LSD
  I almost fell asleep on the Wake Up Show
  Fuck you telling me, fools?
  I was rippin' shop, raisin' hell up in Drew's
  When Penelope Cruz was still developing boobs
  Me and Bus put it down, like a sick pet
  You're fucking with vets, dog,
   
  fucking internet bloggers
  "I sit in front of my computer all day
  And comment on everything, I'm an expert on everything, Everything sucks—play the next song!"
  Guess if I hopped out your freaking laptop, you idiot prick
  With Biggie and kicked the living shit out you, I'd be dead wrong
  Son of God; I'm the S.O.G
  Like a wet log, pores never get clogged
  'Cause I'm so full of self-esteem that I sweat fog
  Yes, yes, y’all (Wah!)—steady on the left, y’all
  Step off, 'fore you get stepped on
  Soft? 'Bout as commercial as my fucking Learjet
  Jealousy’ll get you green as a Chia Pet
  I can see that you’re visibly upset, dog
  Alert, alert, girl—alert
  Once you enter in my house of pain, you're in a world of hurt
  So 
  (
  "Jump around! Jump! Jump!"
  )
  Get that ass shaking 
  (
  "Jump around! Jump!"
  )
  Came to hit you with a fan favorite
  But if you too fly for coach, better get them arms
  And freaking hands flailing and 
  (
  "Jump!"
  )
  Like Van Halen and pray for a damn tailwind
  More afraid of success than I am of failure
  So what does that tell ya?
  That on a grand scale I don’t give a fuck about nothing
  Like Stan mailing his last piece of fan mail
  Before he ran straight into the damn railing [Outro: 
  Sample
  ]
  "Yo, chill, man—chill!"
  [Produced by Scoop DeVille]