[Hook 1: Eminem]
I wanna be the best who ever did it
Don't know if that goal is feasible, or it isn't

But if it is then God, if you're listenin'
Please grant me the strength to crush all competition
You can't blame me for dreaming, I'm a dreamer

And if I'm coming off brash please forgive me
But, that's all I want


[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"]
I just wanna be the illest MC (That's all I want)
The same time being as real as can be


Mayhem, sickness, murder, horror
These are the kind of words that describe my aura

G Rap, Ras Kass, Kurupt
Redman I am cut from that cloth
Write a rhyme about me, you a dead man

Cool J, I'm Bad video
Learned the whole routine and performed it for my father's friends
While they smoked and drank

Symphony, D.O.C. inspired me to write what
Would eventually put me on airplanes like B.o.B
Canibus, Wu-Tang, you know our history but hats off

When we rap this Jack Frost we outline the track chalk
Thank God for the one-two cadence
Thank God for the lunchroom tables

I'm trying to be the sickest ^!$$%, dead or alive
And if I happen to fall short, it's been one hell of a ride
Chronic 1 and 2, looking up at the sky at the sun

Up until the day the sun is you
You listening to hip-hop, you in Jay's house
Wayne's house, Nas' house

Em's house, Our House

[Hook 2: Skylar Grey]

So welcome, to our house
Where no one, comes back out
You won't find, comfort

In here, in here, in here

[Verse 2: Joell Ortiz]

When I was a little boy I wanted to be a rapper
Wanted to be on the radio and snapping pictures after
And so I grabbed my pen and pad and scribbled chitter chatter

It started off wack
But in the words of a ten year old, my %#@! was getting phatter
I hit the studio at 16, stupid ill

Not knowing how the booth would feel, what's ADAT's and two inch reel
How you ad-lib? What's a punch? I ain't a boxer
But I sure enough learned the ropes, look D and Mike you made a monster

Now everyday's a game of Contra, I got 99 men
An infinite amount of rounds inside this mighty fine pen
This is my dream, don't $#&@ with it, I'm telling you

Cause anyone can get dusted as long as production is available
I'm disgusted as a fan, look how ^!$$%s sounding, damn
Weak head, ya'll suck bad, $#&@ swag and your kicks from South Japan

I'm finna to be the best in this profession
I've been invested all my life, so wipe your feet before you step in
Our house


[Hook 2 & Hook 1]


[Interlude: Joe Budden]
I just wanna be the illest MC (That's all I want)
The same time being as real as can be


[Verse 3: Joe Budden]
I never wanted a chain that was encrusted

I wanted to be respected amongst my peers and to be trust
Wanted not to be complacent though okay with my regression
I was banking hip hop would do away with my depression

I wanted to be understood but they never got my deposition
I never wanted attention, but I lusted recognition
Wanted peace with my child's mom wanted to be a better dad

Not as a person wanted to give that ^!$$% choices I never had
Which honestly kept me alive cause in order for me to give
I needed not to be suicidal though it was killing me just to live
Wanted to make mother cry and choke her up cause she proud
Wanted to marry my dreams so I cheated on fear broke up with my doubts

So I got no choice but to succeed and show music that I'm capable
She the one I'm grateful to and Id hate for her to think that I'm unfaithful too
If she did her soul would bleed, but they raised another breed in (Our House)

[Hook 2]


[Verse 4: Crooked I]
Yo, in my house, the lights out
No utilities in the facilities
Feeling my life's 'bout, to wipe out

These feelings I'm feeling be killing me
I pull the mic out, can't strike out
Cause if winning is really my enemy
I pull a nine out, blow my mind out
Is the end of me really serenity?

Man in my house, it's rap or die
Get a piece of that apple pie
Life is a Pharcyde song, and that (*##$ just passes by
So I, got lyrically complex, that way I could clock checks
Get my moms out the projects, with these concepts, competition can't digest
And then I stress cause the road is rough

I start feeling like %#@!'s sour
The electricity in my will power could still power the twin towers
For ten hours, so send cowards
The message from Crooked I
Royce Da 5, Joe Budden, Em, Yaowa

[Verse 5: Eminem]

In our, house we spit like Sig Sauers
The way I feel now I could spit for six hours
Straight, only way to be great, is to dig down, if you can hear this sound in-
-side my head sounds like a $#&@ing drive-by
That's what the inside of my mind's like
Looking back on my career, even hindsights, tunnel vision, 5 mics
Never wanted that so bad, felt like-I-could-go-mad

Nomad with a notepad
Go Taz, spaz on these ho bags
That bother me, but I never wanna show that
Just don't act like it ever does
Even though you know that there will never come
A day someone blows past you, never was
Someone who's as dope as you ever was

And you hope that's, true cause the competitor in you
Couldn't let somebody be better than you
And you know that, so you don't ever hold back
What you gonna go back into working a regular job?
$#&@ that, I'mma go hard, grab on my, gonads
Tell them $#&@ theyselves
They call me a wigger like Renee Zell

But I raised hell like a stay-at-home dad
Rap is the only thing that I was ever really, bad to the bone at
Guess I'm similar to, gangrene when I'm, angry then I'm
Hulk Smash, so much passion but no compassion
If eyes are the windows to the soul
Then it's, broken glass and there's no trespassing
Alright now here we go

Dre stamped me now I'm stamping Yelawolf
Get ready for the most competitive
Clique in the world it's like Clash Of The Titans
I released the cracker it's time to set it again
And when it's said and it's all done
None shall ever $#&@ with this squadron
So come on in, at your own risk
This is (Our House) (*##$!

[Hook 2]