data.json

[
{"songs": ["http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/infinite.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/wegointerlude.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/itsok.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/313.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/tonight.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/maxine.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/openmic.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/never2far.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/searchin.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/backstabber.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/jealousywoesii.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/introslimshady.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/lowdowndirty.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/ifihad.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/justdontgiveafuck.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/justthetwoofus.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/noonesillerthanme.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/murdermurder.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/publicserviceannouncementskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mynameis.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/guiltyconscience.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/braindamage.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/ifihad.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/97bonnieandclyde.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/bitchskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/rolemodel.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/loungeskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/myfault.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/kenkaniffskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/cumoneverybody.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/rockbottom.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/justdontgiveafuck.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/soapskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/astheworldturns.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/imshady.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/badmeetsevil.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/stilldontgiveafuck.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/getyoumad.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/publicserviceannouncement2000skit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/killyou.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/stan.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/paulskit259617.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/whoknew.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/stevebermanskit259616.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thewayiam.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/therealslimshady.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/rememberme.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/imback.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/marshallmathers.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/drugballad.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/amityville.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/bitchpleaseii.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/kim.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/undertheinfluence.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/criminal.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thekids.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/curtainsupskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/whiteamerica.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/business.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/cleaninoutmycloset.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/squaredance.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thekissskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/soldier.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/saygoodbyehollywood.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/drips.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/withoutme.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/paulrosenbergskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/singforthemoment.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/superman.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/hailiessong.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/stevebermanskit23435.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/whenthemusicstops.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/saywhatyousay.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/tillicollapse.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mydadsgonecrazy.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/curtainscloseskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/monkeyseemonkeydo.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/weasamericans.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/iloveyoumore.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/canibitch.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/bully.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/comeonin.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/doerayme.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/curtainsupencoreversion.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/evildeeds.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/neverenough.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/yellowbrickroad.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/liketoysoldiers.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mosh.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/puke.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/myfirstsingle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/paulskit42776.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/rainman.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/bigweenie.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/emcallspaulskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/justloseit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/asslikethat.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/spendsometime.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mockingbird.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/crazyinlove.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/oneshot2shot.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/finalthoughtskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/encorecurtainsdown.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/weasamericans.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/iloveyoumore.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/rickytickytoc.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/intro.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/fack.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thewayiam.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mynameis.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/stan.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/loseyourself.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/shakethat.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/singforthemoment.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/withoutme.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/liketoysoldiers.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/therealslimshady.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mockingbird.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/guiltyconscience.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/cleaninoutmycloset.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/justloseit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/whenimgone.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/deadwrongremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/shitonyou.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/renegade.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/shadynarcoticseminemintro.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/wereback.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thereup.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/youdontknow.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/jimmycrackcorn.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/trapped.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/publicenemy1.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/shakethatremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/noapologies.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/drwestskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/3am.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mymom.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/insane.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/bagpipesfrombaghdad.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/hello.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/tonyaskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/samesongdance.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/wemadeyou.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/medicineball.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/paulskit77660.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/staywideawake.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/oldtimessake.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mustbetheganja.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mrmathersskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/dejavu.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/beautiful.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/crackabottle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/stevebermanskit77667.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/underground.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mydarling.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/carefulwhatyouwishfor.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/forever.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/hellbreaksloose.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/buffalobill.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/elevator.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/takingmyball.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/musicbox.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/dropthebombonem.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/coldwindblows.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/talkin2myself.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/onfire.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/wontbackdown.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/wtp.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/goingthroughchanges.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/notafraid.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/seduction.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/nolove.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/spacebound.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/cinderellaman.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/25tolife.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/sobad.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/almostfamous.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/lovethewayyoulie.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/youreneverover.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/untitled.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/ridaz.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/sessionone.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thepeopleschampintro.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/getmoneyfreestyle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/emulate.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thingsgetworse.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/ballinuncontrollably.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/goingcrazy.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/weewee.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/goat.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/theapple.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/itsbeenreal.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/flyaway.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/badguy.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/parkinglotskit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/rhymeorreason.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/somuchbetter.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/survival.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/legacy.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/asshole.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/berzerk.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/rapgod.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/brainless.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/strongerthaniwas.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/themonster.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/sofar.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/lovegame.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/headlights.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/eviltwin.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/baby.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/desperation.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/groundhogday.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/beautifulpain.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/wickedways.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/dontfront.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/shadyxv.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/slaughterhouse/psychopathkiller.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/diealone.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/badmeetsevil/vegas.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/slaughterhouse/yallreadyknow.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/gutsoverfear.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/yelawolf/down.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/d12/bane.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/fineline.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/skylargrey/twisted.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/rightforme.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/detroitvseverybody.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/loseyourselforiginaldemoversion.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/20boys.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/3verses.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/50ways.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/8mile.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/8milefreestyleptiivslotto.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/8milefreestyleptiiivspapadoc.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/8milefreestylevslicktyspilt.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/adropintheocean.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/almosthaunted.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/anyman.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/badguysalwaysdie.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/badinfluence.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/betshady20cypher.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/biterphobia.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/boymeetsgirl.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/bumpheads.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/businessmatomaremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/campaignspeech.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/chonkyfirefreestyleswagjuice.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/cocaine.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/constantlyarmed.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/crackersncheese.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/demoninside.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/despicable.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/diamondstyle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/difficult.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/echo.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/fallin.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/farewell.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/fastlane.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/firstwordfreestyle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/foolishpride.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/fubbaucubbakubbafreestyle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/fuckinbackstabber.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/gotosleep.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/goneagainpt2.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/gotnext.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/hailmary2003jarulediss.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/hailiesrevenge.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/hellboundhhremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/drdre/ineedadoctor.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/iremembereverlastdiss.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/imhavingarelapse.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/ifidieyoung.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/ifigetlockeduptonight.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/infinitefbtremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/invasiontherealest.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/invasionist.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/itsyourtime.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/justloseitmusicvideoversion.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/justrhyminwitproof.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/kingsneverdie.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/listentoyourheart.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/livingproof.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/loseyourtourniquet.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/loveme.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/moveon.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/murdermurderremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mynameisbootlegversion.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/mynameisradiovideoedit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/myonlychance.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/nailinthecoffin.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/noloveremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/offthewall.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/ohno.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/ourhouse.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/phenomenal.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/quitter.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/runrabbitrun.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/secondchance.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/shadycxvpher.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/stimulate.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/supermancrymeariverremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/swayinthemorningfreestyle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/sweethomealabama.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/syllables.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/symphonyinh.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thatsallshewrote.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/theartofrapfreestyle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thesauce.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thewarning.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/thruthefire.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/tillicollapseremix.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/wakeupshowfreestyle.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/welcome2detroit.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/whenimgonemusicvideoversion.html", "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html/../../lyrics/eminem/youcantbackdown.html"], "url": "http://www.azlyrics.com/e/eminem.html", "title": "EMINEM lyrics"},
{"year": "1996", "title": "Infinite", "album": "\"Infinite\" (1996)", "lyrics": "Oh yeah, this is Eminem baby, back up in that motherfucking ass\nOne time for your motherfucking mind, we represent the 313\nYou know what I'm saying?\n'Cause they don't know shit about this\nFor the 9-6\n\nAyo, my pen and paper 'cause a chain reaction\nTo get your brain relaxing, a zany acting maniac in action\nA brainiac in fact son, you mainly lack attraction\nYou look insanely whack when just a fraction of my tracks run\nMy rhyming skills got you climbing hills\nI travel through your mind into your spine like siren drills\nI'm sliming grills of roaches, with sprayed on disinfectants\nTwist the necks of rappers 'til their spinal column disconnects\nPut this in decks and check the monologue, turn your system up\nTwist them up, and indulge in the marijuana smoke\nThis is the season for noise pollution contamination\nExamination of more cartoons than animation\nMy lamination of narration\nHit's a snare and bass in a track fucked up rapper interrogation\nWhen I declare invasion, there ain't no time to be stare and gazing\nI turn the stage into a barren wasteland...\nI'm infinite\n\nYou heard of hell well I was sent from it\nI went to it serving a sentence for murderin' instruments\nNow I'm trying to repent from it\nBut when I hear the beat I'm tempted to make another attempt at it...\nI'm infinite\n\nBust it, I let the beat commence so I can beat the sense in your elite defense\nI got some meat to mince, a crew to stomp and two feet to rinse\nI greet the gents and ladies, I spoil loyal fans\nI foil yo plans and leave fluids leaking like oil pans\nMy coil hands around this microphone are lethal\nOne thought in my cerebral is deeper then a Jeep full of people\nMCs are feeble, I came to 'cause some pandemonium\nBattle a band of phony MCs and stand the lonely one\nImitator, intimidator, stimulator, simulator of data, eliminator\nThere's never been a greater since the burial of Jesus\nFuck around and catch all the venereal diseases\nMy thesis will smash a stereo to pieces\nMy accapella releases classic masterpieces through telekinesis\nAnd eases you mentally, gently, sentimentally, instrumentally\nWith entity, dementedly meant to be infinite\n\nYou heard of hell well I was sent from it\nI went to it serving a sentence for murderin' instruments\nNow I'm trying to repent from it\nBut when I hear the beat I'm tempted to make another attempt at it...\nI'm infinite\n\nMan I got evidence I'm never dense and I been clever ever since\nMy residence was hesitant to do some shit that represents the M-O\nSo I'm assuming all responsibility\n'Cause there's a monster will in me that always wants to kill MCs\nMic messaler, slamming like a wrestler\nHere to make a mess of a lyric smuggling embezzler\nNo one is specialer, my skill is intergalactical\nI get cynical act a fool then I send a crew back to school\nI never packed a tool or acted cool, it wasn't practical\nI'd rather let a tactical, tactful track tickle your fancy\nIn fact I can't see, or can't imagine\nA man who ain't a lover of beats or a fan of scratching\nSo this is for my family, the kid who had a cameo on my last jam\nPlus the man who never had a plan B\nBe all you can be, 'cause once you make an instant hit\nI'm tensed a bit and tempted when I see the sins my friends commit...\nI'm infinite\n\nYou heard of hell well I was sent from it\nI went to it serving a sentence for murderin' instruments\nNow I'm trying to repent from it\nBut when I hear the beat I'm tempted to make another attempt at it...\nI'm infinite\nYou heard of hell well I was sent from it\nI went to it serving a sentence for murderin' instruments\nNow I'm trying to repent from it\nBut when I hear the beat I'm tempted to make another attempt at it...\nI'm infinite"},
{"year": null, "title": "You Can't Back Down", "album": null, "lyrics": "Keep on going, you just gotta fight it\nKeep on going cause it's not too late\nYou can't back down, you can't back down\n\n\n\nThey ask me am I ok. They ask me if I'm happy\nAre they asking me that because of the shit thats been thrown at me\nor am I just a little snappy\nand they genuinly care\nDoody, most of my life its just been me and you there\nand I continuosly stare at pictures of you\nI never got to say I love you as much as I wanted to but I do\nyeah I say it now and you can't hear me\nwhat the fuck good does that do me now\nbut somehow I know you're near me in presence\nor I went and drop some presents off to ease it to them\ntwo little beautiful boys of yours to try to ease their minds a little\nand dawg you'll never believe this\nbut Sharonda actually talks to me now\nJesus and everyone else is just tryna pick up the pieces\nman how you touch so many fucking lives and just leave us\nthey say grievance has a way of affecting everyone different\nif its true, how the fuck am I supposed to get over you\ndifficult as it sounds\n\n\nKeep on going, you just gotta fight it\nKeep on going cause it's not too late\nYou can't back down, you can't back down\n\n\n\nDoody, thats what we call eachother\nI don't know where it came from but it just stuck with us\nwe was always brothers\nnever thought about eachothers skin colours\ntil one day we was walking up the block in the summer\nit was like 90 degrees, I was catching a sun burn\ntryna walk under the trees\njust to give me some comfort\nI'm moaning I just wanna get home\nwhen I look over and his shirt is off\nI'm like you gon fry and like\n\"No I wont, I'm black stupid\nblack people they got melatonin\nin their skin, we don't burn\"\nmeanwhile, my face is glowing and I felt\nlike I'm on fire\nand the entire time you're just laughing at me\nand snapping at me with your shirt, bastard\nand I still have to get you back for that shit\nand by the way them playboy rings\nmy mother stole from you\nwell Nate finally got em back shit\nit must have been at least 16 years ago\nwell I put em in your cask-owww\nmoving past it, it still aint registered yet\nbut you can bet you're legacy they'll never forget\nthe motor city mo-town\nhip hop vet, hip hop shop, dreads\nit don't stop there\nyeah, as difficult as it sounds\n\n\nKeep on going, you just gotta fight it\nKeep on going cause it's not too late\nYou can't back down, you can't back down\n\n\n\nand this may sound a little strange but I'mma tell it\nI found that jacket that you left at my wedding\nand I picked it up to smell it\nI wrapped it up in plastic until I put it in glass\nand hang up in the hallway so I can always look at it\nand as for all of me and D12 we feel like fuck rap\nit feels like our General just fucking died in our lap\nwe shut off all our pages,\nall our cell numbers is changed\nour two-ways are in the trash\nso some cats will have to find a new way\nand I know that it feels like the dreams will die with you today\nbut the truth is there all still here and you ain't\npurple gang, you gotta pressing on\ndon't ever give up the dream dog\nI got love for you all\nand Doody, it's true you bought people together who never\nwoulda been in the same room if it wasn't for you\nyou were the peacemaker Doody\nI know sometimes you were moody\nbut you hated confrontation\nand truly hated the feuding\nbut you were down for yours whenever it came to scrapping\nif it had to happen, it had to happen\nbelieve me, I know you're the one who taught me to\nthrow them balls back on Dresden\nfrom making cars to paintballing\ngetting arrested\nto sitting across from eachother in cells laughing and jesting\nthey tried to hit us for 5 years for that, no question\nI guess them hookers and bums that we shot up\ndidn't show up for court\nso we got off on a technicality, left sweating\nme, you and whats his face\nI forgot his fucking name\nshame he even came to your funeral\nhe betrayed our team\nand if I see him again I'ma punch him in the fucking face\nand thats on Hallie Jade, Whitney Lane and Alaina's name\nI let the pistol bang once just to leak a shot in the air\nfor you and pour some liquor out for you with Obie in the parking lot of 54\njust before we were supposed to get in cars\nto come and see you once more\ndifficult as it sounds\n\n\nKeep on going, you just gotta fight it\nKeep on going cause it's not too late\nYou can't back down, you can't back down"},
{"year": null, "title": "When I'm Gone (Music Video Version)", "album": null, "lyrics": "\u2013 I remember... the first time I came here, it's been a rough six years,\nAnd I'm just happy to not be that person anymore and so as my wife.\nThank you for letting me do this.\nThat's all I have to share right now.\n\u2013 Is there anyone else who would like to share with us tonight?\n Uuh yeah.\n My name is Marshall.\n Hello Marshall.\n\n\nYeah...\nIt's my life...\nMy own words I guess...\n\n\nHave you ever loved someone so much, you'd give an arm for?\nNot the expression, no, literally give an arm for?\nWhen they know they're your heart\nAnd you know you were their armour\nAnd you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her\nBut what happens when karma, turns right around and bites you?\nAnd everything you stand for, turns on you to spite you?\nWhat happens when you become the main source of her pain?\n\"Daddy look what I made\", Dad's gotta go catch a plane\n\"Daddy where's Mommy? I can't find Mommy where is she?\"\nI don't know go play Hailie, baby, your Daddy's busy\nDaddy's writing a song, this song ain't gonna write itself\nI'll give you one underdog then you gotta swing by yourself\nThen turn right around in that song and tell her you love her\nAnd put hands on her mother, who's a spitting image of her\nThat's Slim Shady, yeah baby, Slim Shady's crazy\nShady made me, but tonight Shady's rocka-by-baby...\n\n\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm looking down on you smiling\nAnd I didn't feel a thing, So baby don't feel no pain\nJust smile back\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm looking down on you smiling\nAnd I didn't feel a thing, So baby don't feel no pain\nJust smile back...\n\n\nI keep having this dream, I'm pushin' Hailie on the swing\nShe keeps screaming, she don't want me to sing\n\"You're making Mommy cry, why? Why is Mommy crying?\"\nBaby, Daddy ain't leaving no more, \"Daddy you're lying\n\"You always say that, you always say this is the last time\n\"But you ain't leaving no more, Daddy you're mine\"\nShe's piling boxes in front of the door trying to block it\n\"Daddy please, Daddy don't leave, Daddy - no stop it!\"\nGoes in her pocket, pulls out a tiny necklace locket\nIt's got a picture, \"this'll keep you safe Daddy, take it withcha'\"\nI look up, it's just me standing in the mirror\nThese fuckin' walls must be talking, cuz man I can hear 'em\nThey're saying \"You've got one more chance to do right\" - and it's tonight\nNow go out there and show that you love 'em before it's too late\nAnd just as I go to walk out of my bedroom door\nIt turns to a stage, they're gone, and this spotlight is on\nAnd I'm singing...\n\n\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm looking down on you smiling\nAnd I didn't feel a thing, So baby don't feel no pain\nJust smile back\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm looking down on you smiling\nAnd I didn't feel a thing, So baby don't feel no pain\nJust smile back...\n\n\nSixty thousand people, all jumping out their seat\nThe curtain closes, they're throwing roses at my feet\nI take a bow and thank you all for coming out\nThey're screaming so loud, I take one last look at the crowd\nI glance down, I don't believe what I'm seeing\n\"Daddy it's me, help Mommy, her wrists are bleeding,\"\nBut baby we're in Sweden, how did you get to Sweden?\n\"I followed you Daddy, you told me that you weren't leavin'\n\"You lied to me Dad, and now you make Mommy sad\n\"And I bought you this coin, it says 'Number One Dad'\n\"That's all I wanted, I just want to give you this coin\n\"I get the point - fine, me and Mommy are going\"\n\"But baby wait,\n\"It's too late Dad, you made the choice\n\"Now go out there and show 'em that you love 'em more than us\"\nThat's what they want, they want you Marshall, they keep.. screamin' your name\nIt's no wonder you can't go to sleep, just take another pill\nYeah, I bet you will. You rap about it, yeah, word, k-keep it real\nI hear applause, all this time I couldn't see\nHow could it be, that the curtain is closing on me\nI turn around, find a gun on the ground, cock it\nPut it to my brain and scream \"die Shady\" and pop it\nThe sky darkens, my life flashes, the plane that I was supposed to be on crashes and burns to ashes\nThat's when I wake up, alarm clock's ringin', there's birds singin'\nIt's spring and Hailie's outside swinging, I walk right up to Kim and kiss her\nTell her I miss her, Hailie just smiles and winks at her little sister\nAlmost as if to say..\n\n\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm looking down on you smiling\nAnd I didn't feel a thing, So baby don't feel no pain\nJust smile back\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm looking down on you smiling\nAnd I didn't feel a thing, So baby don't feel no pain\nJust smile back...\n\n\n Thank you, thanks for letting me share."},
{"year": null, "title": "Wake Up Show Freestyle", "album": null, "lyrics": "Yo, speed racer, 97' burgundy Blazer\r\nWanted for burglary, had to ditch the mercury tracer\r\nI'm on some low ish, \r\nI'm fed up wit the being broke ish\r\nI'm not to joke wit\r\nBitch, I don't sell crack, I smoke it\r\nMy brains dusted; I'm disgusted at all my habits\r\nToo many asprin tablets and empty medicine cabinets\r\nLoosing battles to wack rappers 'cause I'm always too blunted\r\nWalkin' up in the cypher smokin', talkin' like, \"Who want it?\"\r\nThug and crook; every drug in the book I've done it\r\nMy 9's at your frame,is that your chain? Run it\r\nWho wants to die of an overdose of excessive flavor?\r\nAggressive nature got me stickin' you for your Progressive pager\r\nSpectacular, battle rap manufacturer\r\nStole your mom's Acura, wrecked it, then sold it back to her\r\n( Right right right ! ! ! ) (( Ding ! ! ! ))\r\nThe doctors you'll need after our battle are known as psychiatrics \r\nI'll tell the nurses to hold a bed for you, \r\nand I'ma make sure you come back for it\r\nSo barricade your infants, put up some extra fences\r\nA woman beater, wanted for repeated sex offenses ( Ooh )\r\n..Take em' on long vacation trips\r\nKidnappin' em' and trappin' em' in abusive relationships\r\nMess up your face and lips\r\nSlit your stomach and watch your gut split\r\nGut you wit that razor that I use to shave my nuts wit ((Laughter))\r\nMama don't you cry, your son's too far gone\r\nI'm so high, I don't even know what label I'm on\r\nI'm messed up, feelin' like an over worked plumber\r\nI'm sick of the crap, what's Dr. Kevorkian's phone number? ( Ha.. Hot )"},
{"year": null, "title": "The Art Of Rap (Freestyle)", "album": null, "lyrics": "How the fuck he got an Oscar?\nPassed out in his red Mazda\nWith his fucking head in his pasta\nIn the parking lot of k-mart plaza\nAcross from the red lobster\nLooking like the Lochness monster\nDressed like a cross-dressed mobster\nTalk is cheap it costs less to gossip\nI\u2019d probably be a lot less\nHostile if you snots kept your shnozzes out the airholes\nOr get fucked in all seven holes\nAss, mouth, pussy, yeah both ears and hah! yes nostrils\nAt the ozzfest with nas bumping das efx in wrecked up Datsun\nAnd dropped two extra strength Watson vicodin out my pocket\nThey cost less I'm a hot mess cause I tripped and got my head stuck\nIn a wasp\u2019s nest in the process awesome\n\nDrunk as fuck\nOne sock pulling my boxers up with boxing gloves\nBut I keep dropping my fucking binoculars\nGot two fucking hydroxycuts and four oxy's stuck in my esophagus\nThese three lesbian little stocky sluts\nThought I swallowed two hockey pucks\nStarted screamin' \"Serves you right you cocky fuck!\nThat's what you get for mockin' us\nAin't as cool as you thought you was.\"\nBitch all I did when I walked up was have my dick in a sock\nAnd it's a sock puppet so no strings attached you can all suck it\n(Chick-uh) get it? Ah fuck it\nShits about to get hairy as motherfucking Chewbacca's nuts\nCocksuckers"},
{"year": null, "title": "Syllables", "album": null, "lyrics": "It's not about lyrics anymore, it's about a hot beat and a catchy hook\n\n\nIf we gotta dumb down our style and ABC it\nThen so be it\n.Cause nowadays these kids, jeez\nDon't give a shit about lyrics\nAll they wanna hear is a beat and that's it\nLong as they can go to the club and get blitz\nPick up some chicks and get some digits\nAnd the DJ's playing them hits\nOh, this my jam, this my shit\nWe don't know a word to a verse,\nAll we know is the chorus\n'Cause the chorus repeats the same four words for us\nAnd the songs ginormous, the whole formula's switched\n'Cause we don't know anymore, what are hits\nIs it the beat, is it the rap?\nIs it a finger snap or the same 808 clap?\nAnd how do we adapt and get TRL votes\nWhen 13 year olds control the remote\nAnd Ashley's got a brand new nose\nWe gotta put some new emphasis on our syllables\n\n\nIf the emphasis on the compact disc isn't the beat\nThan I'm gonna feature EM and get rich\nAnd let Dre mix the shit and drive off in the Range Ro\n'Cause everywhere I go they love the bling bling flow\nBang bang look at the way my chain glow\nThe ring on my fing' cost Jermaine a lot of dough, oh\nThe fuck am I busting my brain for?\nIt's just the way the game go, oh, it takes 2 to tango\nYou call this a lame flow\nYou bought the shit\nI guess you to blame too\nI just found the angle\nNo more reality flow\nI'm tryna time my album dropping with a reality show\nCock the Mac 11 in front of Hot 97\nAnd call my publicist, tell her, \"We're in press heaven\"\nNo one gives a shit except some kids who just got into sex on the Internet\nSo you want the chat room or the house of Malibu, Em?\nYour emphasis is on the wrong syllable\n\n\nThey said 30's the new 20\nFunny, must mean 40's the new 30\nInteresting 'cause ever since then it's been innocence\nAn extension for veteran rappers that are better than half\nOf the shit coming out right now\nIt's all trash\nThe torch is gonna burn out before it gets passed\nJay said it's his last and 50 and Em\nThen what? Detox drops what we got then\nSo now our whole camps is running around scrambling over what to do\nGambling everytime we put a record out\nJust looking for that hook\n\n\n(Wait, Dre, look)\nShorty I love you\nAnd you love me too\nWe were meant to be 'cause shorty\nYou love me\nAnd I love you too\nAnd I promise I'll be true to you\n\n\nGo shorty, it's your birthday\nYou made it just in time to hear my wordplay\nIt's the kid that flip flows who used to flip O's\nAnd run G for days used to see how I get hoes\nI'm international, I get my dick licked round the globe\nI'm sick right into shows, riding on lolo's\nPuffing on coco, my bitch in Manolo's\nDon't fuck with the dodo's, that's slang for dumb hoes\nI playing, I ain't got time to joke, joke\nYou fuck around, you could get your ass smoked lock,\nIt's not a game, me B, I ain't playing\nBeat behind me playing, so you ain't hear anyway\nYou don't hear what I'm saying\nMe fin-nini-na\nFee-fi-dididee-yay\nJust give me my check and I'll be on my way\nSunny bunny money and funny\nYou ain't even listening and I just took your money\n\n\nThere once was a time everywhere he turned\nShady aftermath was all you heard\nBut they say 50 sang too much\nAnd Em got soft\nAnd they say Dre just fell the fuck off\nWell, fuck the \"Fuck off\"s\nAll y'all eat salt, be mad, we bad fresh up outta the vault, oh!\nNew syllables eat ball, you fucks off's\nYour house, your bitch I'm getting sucked off\nEast, south, midwest, even up north\nFalling victim to wax, spitting, bring out the white chalk\nAll for the gingerbread, we get it and get lost\nCatch me if you can, I'm running past while y'all walk\n\n\nShady made me for bringing it back\nFor the history of rap\nIt's gone with a snap, a sneer and a clap\nWhat happened to just spitting about living in the motherfucking city you at\nIn the grimiest condition, I breath in drama\nKing Mathers and Cash me, that's freak karma\nI'm everything, anything, you could never be\nIt's a hitting, rhyme in the month deep\nI speak with a piece, no peace on my mind\nI repeat every evil deed done of mine\nNo rest contest, contract to sign\nBy blood I'm in this squad for life\nHear out my wind pipes and I just chime\nI'm the reason you guys won't say that line\nI'm crazy renegade like Em and Jay-Z\nI'm Rosemary's baby, I want you to hate me\n\n\nShorty I love you\nAnd you love me too\nWe were meant to be cause shorty\nYou love me\nAnd I love you too\nAnd I promise I'll be true to you\n\n\nIt is not about lyrics anymore,\nIt is not about lyrics anymore\nIt's about a hot beat, a hot beat\nIt's about a hot beat, a hot beat\nA hot, hot, hot beat\nAnd a catchy hook\nA hot, hot, hot beat\nAnd a catchy hook\nNobody gives a damn about them syllables, sillyle-ables, whatever they are\nI don't care if you gotta rhyme smo, joe, toe and glow\nNow get out there and sell some god-damn records"},
{"year": null, "title": "Sweet Home Alabama", "album": null, "lyrics": "Well Jimmy moved in with his mother\r\nCos he ain't go no place to go\r\nAnd now I'm right back in the gutter\r\nWith a garbage bag that's full of clothes\r\n\r\nCause you live at home in a trailer\r\nWhat the hell you gonna do (yee-hah!)\r\nCause I live at home in a trailer\r\nMom I'm coming home to you\r\n\r\nWell my name is Jimmy\r\nHe's name's Greg Buehl\r\nMe and him and you, - we went to the same school\r\nThis ain't cool... I'm in a rage\r\nHe's tapping my mom and we're almost the same age\r\nOn the microphone I drop bombs\r\nLook at this car... 'Thanks a lot, Mom!'\r\n\"Here and happy birthday Rabbit! Here's a brand new car, you can have it. A 1928 Delta...\"\r\nThis shit won't even get me to the shelter\r\nAnd I can't even say I'm from mowtown\r\nCause I'm back in the 810 now\r\n\r\nCos I live at home in a trailer\r\nMom I'm coming home to you"},
{"year": null, "title": "Sway In The Morning (Freestyle)", "album": null, "lyrics": "Let's take them back to the future (bars)\nBars, like Paul Rosenberg\nThe small frozen turd (don't censor me man)\nAlright look, I had class, I just got expelled\nI excelled at nothing in school\nSo if you're tryna test my patience it just failed\nBut King Mathers, I still get hailed\nSo call me sire, like I exhaled\nAfter I had a deep ass breath held\nI guess well, that'll make my size double XL\nSo kiss your highness's hinded ass\nWhile I'm trying to stretch, it's time to exercise\nI'm flexing, isometrics\nTwice the reps 'til I get extra-sized\nAnd set my bis and pecs and triceps on fire\nCause I'm coming out guns blazing\nLike flaming pythons, my suggestion is parental discretion\nBe advised, due to this mental aggression\nWe advise you to back up, like Byron Leftwich\nI'm infectious, I rhyme like I got a sinus infection\nA virus, I'm congested and I just ingested\nFive Allegras but the side effects from these anti-depressants, they're tryna mess with my mind\nI'm a regular Hyde and Jekyll\nWhite with freckles but I silence hecklers\nYou might wanna head for the fire exits\nI'm coming through like a wrecking ball\nYou would swear I think highly of Miley\nAnd I respect her, the way I backhand her\nExcuse my French, Montana, but I am worried about nutting\nGod damn it, I'm a sexist, I drive a Lexus\nTextses out of her mind, and I'm in Texas\nWith a chainsaw, wait, what did I forget this\nTime, oh, my machetes getting upset, he said\nHe was ready for me to come get him from inside the shed\nIt was time, he's restless\nHe wants to make blood shed like a storage unit\nBut before I do it, let me think this through\nCause if I behead this bitch then I'd be headless\nMic check, one, two\nI ain't barely check the mic just yet\nAnd I just sweared like twice as many times\nIn less than ninety seconds\nThan Andrew fucking Dice ever did in his fucking life\nBut I guess I'm expected to make these kinds of violent records\nIt's why I keep rhyming reckless\nFuck it, I swear, like a diamond necklace\nSince freestyling over phone tap, my line's connected\nWith rhymes that kept in touch with the fans, that's why the more bars, the better my reception\nAnd I give a fuck about sales, and fuck pop, I don't even like refreshments\nCindy Crawford tryna fend me off with a bendy straw\nAt the waffle house, awful mouth\nBut if you don't like what I'm talking about then block me out\nJust then Foxy Brown, walks up and knocks me down\nKicks me and socks me, ow\nApparently still mad over what I said last year\nOn that Vegas track, I just look stupid and stand there\nAnd try to act like I can't hear\nWhat? Sorry dear, but I think Pam Grier just stuck a tampon in my damn ear\nThat's when my man Denaun Porter ran behind me to pantomime\nThat if you wanna kick his ass, stand in line\nHands inside my pants as I fantasize taking advantage\nOf Brandy and Janet by grabbing my Spanish Fly\nLike a blind Hispanic guy with his zipper stuck\nGive a fuck, it's all part of my grand design\nTo get Amanda Bynes to come and fucking blow me like a dandelion\nBetter watch your step, you 'bout to cross an outlandish mine\nI'm what you get if Aaron Hernandez rhymed\nSo stand aside unless you plan to find out how handy I am with a branding iron\nFuck talking clear so you all can hear\nI'd rather rap like a fucking auctioneer\nFuck around and walk from here to the Southpaw premier\nGet on Paul's back, rapping Paul Revere\nSo call me queer, cause I'm always weird\nSo praise a Genius, hope this don't get taken out of text\nBut Hillary, I promise to wipe my server clean if you face subpoenas\nGot a name that speaks for itself like Anthony Weiner\nHands in between my pants in a theater, jacking my meat\nA fan of Trina, Angelina, and Christina and Serena and Selena\nScarlett Johansson, Tiffani Amber Thiessen\nGive me a damn good reason and not wanna slip an Ambien in the Cappuccino\nAnd try to have a 3-sum with Janet Reno\nI'm fucked worse than Donald Trump\nOn Lexapro in Mexico across from a Texaco in McDonald's drunk\nBroke and out of gas, busted water pump\nGetting fondled up by Ronald, feeling him on his rump\nOh yeah, and me and Alyssa Milano hump\nWe do\nBringing the horror to emcees like the aura of the Run DMC fedora\nAddidas and Diadoras but I need at least three to four of those Rita Oras\nIn a four seater Taurus but tell them my face is the best seat in the house\nI'll let them bleed in my mouth while I'm eating them out (that's disgusting, ow Jesus)\nHeat seeking missile, duck, demented, sick, hate and see who gives a fuck\nI invented prick, and that's a true statement, I see the bitch in you Caitlyn\nI keep the pistol tucked like Bruce Jenner's dick\nNo disrespect though, not at all, no pun intended, that took a lot of balls (ay God damn)\nOh and Azealia Banks just wanna tell you thanks\nNow I got trailer skanks sending me ballpark franks in the mail as pranks\nAnd hot pockets, thanks a lot\nAwful, I made monopoly off misogyny\nSodomy, how many chocolatey jell-o pops can he possibly lace, walking atrocity\nNo wonder you scoff at me, it's still obvious I'm as off-putting as Bill Cosby is\nTreat women like property, possessive like a noun with an apostrophe\nS's, I'd probably stalk broccoli, yes it's\nSocrates with a block of cheese and a dollar stuck in this soda pop machine\nGot emcees dropping to knees, copping a plea bargain\nThey keep sobbing, like, \u201cplease stop it\u201d\nAftermath, bitch, still Detoxing\nLooking for us? We over here\nLike we're eavesdropping"},
{"year": null, "title": "Superman / Cry Me A River (Remix)", "album": null, "lyrics": "\"SLIM!\"\nHI MY NAME IS...\n...Bitch you make me hurl. \n\n\nThey call me superman, leap tall hoes in a single bound\nI'm single now, got no ring on this finger now\nI'd never let another chick bring me down, in a relationship\nSave it bitch, babysit, you make me sick\nSuperman ain't savin' shit, girl you can jump on Shady's dick\nStraight from the hip, cut to the chase, I tell a muthafuckin' slut, to her face\nPlay no games, say no names, ever since I broke up with what's her face\nI'm a different man, kiss my ass, kiss my lips, bitch why ask\nKiss my dick, get my cash, I'd rather have you whip my ass\nDon't put out, I'll put you out, won't get out, I'll push you out\nPuss blew out, poppin' shit, wouldn't piss on fire to put you out\nAm I too nice, buy you ice, bitch if you died, I wouldn't buy you life\nWhat you tryin' to be my new wife, what you Mariah, fly through twice...\n\n\nBut I do know one thing though, bitches, they come they go\nSaturday through Sunday, Monday, Monday through Sunday yo'\nMaybe I'll love you one day, maybe we'll someday grow\nTill then just sit your drunk ass on that fuckin' runway ho'...\n\n\nCause I can't be your Superman (Cry me a River)\nCan't be your Superman \nCan't be your Superman (Cry me a River-er)\nCan't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman (Cry me a River)\nCan't be your Superman\nYour Superman, your Superman... (Cry me a River-er, yeah, yeah)\n\n\nDon't get me wrong, I love these ho's\nIt's no secret, everybody knows\nYeah we fucked, bitch so what, that's about as far as your buddy goes\nWe'll be friends, I'll call you again, I'll chase you around every bar you attend\nNever know what kind of car I'll be in, we'll see how much you'll be partying then\nYou don't want that, neither do I, I don't want to flip when I see you with guys\nToo much pride, between you and I\nNot a jealous man, but females lie\nBut I guess that's just what sluts do, how could it ever be just us two\nI'd never love you enough to trust you, we just met and I just fucked you...\n\n\nBut I do know one thing though, bitches, they come they go\nSaturday through Sunday, Monday, Monday through Sunday yo'\nMaybe I'll love you one day, maybe we'll someday grow\nTill then just sit your drunk ass on that fuckin' runway ho'...\n\n\nCause, I know you want me baby, I think I want you too (Cry me a River, Cry me a River-er)\n\"I think I love you baby\", I think I love you too (Cry me a River)\nI'm here to save you girl, come be in Shady's world (Cry me a River-er)\nI want to grow together, let's let our love unfurl\nYou know you want me baby, you know I want you too (Cry me a River)\nThey call me superman, I'm here to rescue you (Cry me a River-er)\nI want to save you girl, come be in Shady's world (Cry me a River)\n\"Ooooh boy you drive me crazy\", bitch you make me hurl... (Cry me a River-er, yeah, yeah)\n\n\nFirst thing you say, \"I'm not fazed, I hang around big stars all day\nI don't see what the big deal is anyways\nYou're just plain old Marshall to me\"\nOoh ya' girl run that game\n\"Hallie Jade, I love that name, love that tattoo, what's that say?\"\n\"Rot in pieces, uh, that's great.\"\nFirst off you don't know Marshall, at all so don't grow partial\nThat's ammo for my arsenal, I'll slap you off that barstool\nThere goes another lawsuit, leave handprints all across you\nGood Lordy whoadie, you must be gone off that water bottle\nYou want what you can't have, ooh girl that's too damn bad\nDon't touch what you can't grab, end up with two backhands\nPut anthrax on a tampax, and slap you till you can't stand\nGirl you just blew your chance, don't mean to ruin your plans...\n\n\nBut I do know one thing though, bitches, they come they go\nSaturday through Sunday, Monday, Monday through Sunday yo'\nMaybe I'll love you one day, maybe we'll someday grow\nTill then just sit your drunk ass on that fuckin' runway ho'...\n\n\nCause, I know you want me baby, I think I want you too (Cry me a River, Cry me a River-er)\n\"I think I love you baby\", I think I love you too (Cry me a River)\nI'm here to save you girl, come be in Shady's world (Cry me a River-er)\nI want to grow together, let's let our love unfurl\nYou know you want me baby, you know I want you too(Cry me a River)\nThey call me superman, I'm here to rescue you (Cry me a River-er)\nI want to save you girl, come be in Shady's world (Cry me a River)\n\"Ooooh boy you drive me crazy\", bitch you make me hurl... (Cry me a River-er, yeah, yeah)\n\n\nCause I can't be your Superman (Cry me a River)\nCan't be your Superman \nCan't be your Superman (Cry me a River-er)\nCan't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman (Cry me a River)\nCan't be your Superman\nYour Superman, your Superman... (Cry me a River-er, yeah, yeah)\n\n\nCry me a river, oh (Cry me, cry me)\nCry me a river, oh (Cry me, cry me)\nCry me a river, oh (Cry me, cry me)\nCry me a river, oh (Cry me, cry me)\nCry me a river, oh (Cry me, cry me)\nCry me a river, oh (Cry me, cry me)\nCry me a river, oh (Cry me, cry me)\nCry me a river (Cry me, cry me)\n\n(Cry me, cry me)"},
{"year": null, "title": "SHADY CXVPHER", "album": null, "lyrics": "My name is KXNG CROOKED, I snap on you rappers often\nWhen I'm spazzin' I'm just gettin' my passionate point across\nLike a hood cat clappin' his hands when he's talkin'\nNow that I got your attention, I feel I should really mention\nDon't come around here flossin', Big Willies, we'll Willie Lynch 'em\nPull out the chopper, rappers hittin' the ground\nLike every bar is a bullet, when I pull it, it sound like\nB-b-b-b-b a couple of bullets are comin' your way then it jam\nLike god damn\nThen I pick up somethin' quicker, start killin' everything in the vicinity\nThe proximity, the Glocksimity, we on Yosemite Sam\nBam, bam your body drop, Van Damme, karate chop\nThe Beretta's a better competitor\nPop pop turn your sweater to a crop top\nKillin' you and whoever in that drop top\nEtcetera, etcetera and it will not stop\nJust shoot, shoot like doot doot\nAnd beaucoup, beaucoup, I'm cuckoo\nI'm a star goin' to war with you clones like Count Dooku\nI'm worlds apart from you rappers\nLike I walk in the booth rockin' a biosuit made of plastic\nAnd NASA's galactic elastic travelin' through space, interstellar rapping\nBroadcastin' from uninhibited planets\nWhen I come back, that's it\nYou see a flash in the sky, it's that nigga, I\nWhen I land, you wack niggas die\nAnd your casket is your last hit\nYou wack bitch, fuckin' bastard\nBack to the hand clappin'\nYou die quicker than Darren Wilson walkin' through Ferguson\nDressed like the grand dragon of the Klan\nPassin' niggas with pants saggin'\nWith their hand on a black Magnum\nTo clap him backwards\nSo their last words is \"kcuf meht nmad saggin\"\nThat's backwards for \"fuck them damn niggas\"\nBuck them damn triggers\nCharge us, bodies fill up them damn Rivers\nCause everybody wanna be the best rapper alive\nBut I only like dead rappers\nCompare me to the best rappers who died\nAnd you rappers I used to look up to\nI gotta cancel you now\nLike Simon Cowell, I can't let you ex factors survive\nNah, the time's right and they finally limelightin' the god of this rhyme writin'\nMy mic can only be likened to Poseidon's trident and Zeus' lightin' strike\nAnd my metaphors are what Thor was to the Norse viking\nI'm a born titan and at-point kill 'em like swordfightin'\nI'm slicin' organs with songwritin', I dwarf giants\nI hope I'm rubbin' you pussies wrong sort of like poor dykin'\nI smoke philosophy, I snort science\nThat means I'm higher than higher learnin', look in my eyes\nThat's where the fire's burnin'\nTry to deny music's messiah returnin'\nYou die and you fry in my iron furnace\nI am on my get rich or die tryin' like when Em was signin' Curtis\nCause I am murderous\n\n\n(Joe Budden, Jersey City, New Jersey)\nNow we can do this a couple of different ways, it really depends\nCould give them classic NY jeans over the Timbs\nOr I could spit about my car and how it sit on the rims\nI could tell you why I'm hot and disappear like MIMS\nBut the bars there, put that on God, ask an atheist\nAnd if I ain't the bomb at least I'm in the blast radius\nI'm beating these kids' indictment, shit, I like the terror\nAPB on my actions, I'm in the viking era\nMoment of truth, I give you facts right now\nFuck this cypher, my mind ain't on rap right now\nSo it's fuck metaphors and punches, all the witty shit\nGot a missing uncle and another need a kidney flip\nFace says I been stressed\nI got an aunt getting her ass kicked by MS\nNigga, why am I here? For the look, for the promo\nShit that bothered from the start\nCause the cancer left his lungs and it's on my grandfather's heart\nYeah, just not the side that the beat is on\nI'm supposed to put that to the side when the beat is on\nI'm planning the funeral, I'm getting the hearse ready\nThese niggas only wanna ask me if the verse is ready\nNot a how do I feel, not a how do I deal\nIf that's the life, nigga, then how is it real?\nThese last couple of days I've been speaking to my peers\nGiving them cries for help, I guess they need to see the tears\nBut wait, wildest part of all of that is\nThey'll shoot a suicidal rapper right here on the bridge\nBut fuck it, gotta pardon 'em, shout out to my squad and 'em\nHouse Gang, Shady, I'm gone, nigga, my job is done\n\n\nYelawolf, Gadsden, Alabama\nMy name is Wayne, I'm from Alabama\nHere's the back story\nI just fell off the turnip truck with Ernest Tubb\nI'm 33, I've got 3 kids and I just popped 3 pills\nI don't know which one's which or what it's for\nSafety ain't really a habit I've formed\nI still smoke to the cigarette butt\nI still drink till I end up being that klutz\nClumsy, self-destructive dummy\nStumbling over my words, mumbling\nI'll probably do it tonight\nLeave the bar, leave the car\nAnd pass out like a fetus in a jar with my feet up to the stars\nAnd dream about that light that leads up to the lord\nI have nightmares about my momma getting beat up in the yard\nWake up feeling like half a human\nHit the studio and unleash this guilt and regret\nFor my lack of union between rap, you and the rock and roll community\nFor unity between country music and MCs, I'm claiming immunity\nStill I'm working, sawing, milling this tree\nBuilding this house exactly the way Charlemagne the god and Lord Jamar thought it would be\nWait a minute... the lord and the god hate me\nJesus Christ, I am the white devil!\nNah...\nI'm still working, sawing, milling this tree\nBuilding this house exactly the way I thought it should be\nWanna take a tour? Let's see\nI've got floor-to-ceiling windows and a cabin-style mansion\nBucks, bears, trucks, boats, tires, spares, four-wheelers\nThree-wheelers, two-wheelers, a drug dealer on call\nPlaques on the wall, racks on the wall for my guns on the wall\nLift kits, low riders, chop shops, hi tops, low tops, cowboy boots\nDixie flags, American flags, Slumerican tags on my Slumerican ass\nCEO\nI've got my name on the bathrobe, and the flame on the back porch is lit\nGuess who's coming to dinner?\nAndr\u00e9 3000 and Hank the Third, go figure\nI've got two stand-up jetskis, a top pedigree horse, just to pet and feed of course\nWho rides a horse in Nashville? I might\nI've got bicycles for the kids, tricycles for the babies\nM-80s, bottle rockets, bottles in my pocket\nMoonshine, gold watches, gold rings\nAll fake, no bling, don't hate, that's my thing\nI've got new clothes, old clothes, vintage, tremendous, endless style\nGoodwill loves me Mackle-more than you\nI've got flat screen TVs, with skate videos on repeat\nAll the latest CDs, mp3s, and Beats by Dre\nThank you very much, Jimmy Iovine for the check\nI've got a black woman fine as she can be\nFeFe with a ring on her finger that could give sight to the blind\nA 5, a 10, a couple hundreds layin' on the counter\nI don't know where that came from\nI got artwork from hard work, yardworkers for yard work\nDon't look under the tarp, sir\nI'm growin' weed for my mama there\nI've got a paved driveway and photos in the hallway of me on my Harley\nAnd I did it my way\nSee, hip hop is what you make of it\nAnd I'm makin' a lot of it\nSee that's a quadruple entendre, Jay Z eat your heart out\n\n\nBut these cyphers, I treat 'em like a war, don't want no mediators\nNah, this that grow up in the P's behavior, next door to the greasy neighbors\nPeople thank you, I do this for all the mean creators\nI was someone who never needed favors to get where I'm at\nNow they deem me a savior\nBut to be honest I ain't feelin' like that, man I just really like rap\nY'all lucky, trust me\nI'm opposite the hands of Sandusky\nWith the shit that my pen state, these rappers can't touch me\nUgly? Shit, you serious? I'm hideous\nI was better than all you silly kids while trying to figure out who I really is\nAs a younger dude, life was somethin' rude\nI barely made it to the first like a Cutler move\nNo rubber groove on my shoes had to fight, so suspensions\nI had 3 in one week, yeah that was public school\nDid I say 3 in 1? That's funny cause there's 4 of us in the Slaughter\nThat's a 3 and 1, I learned that in public school too\nLike what's in between a 3 and 1 and House Gang, I spoke to all 3 on 1 call\nLike I dropped 2 albums and #3 is 1 second from bein' done\nJust need y'all 3 to send me 1 verse apiece\nFor this Heatmakerz beat and Brother's Keeper 1\nSimple mathematics, I'm addin' up to all these rap addicts\nI don't like to divide dough so I multiply flow\nAnd subtract maggots\nLike a brand new Craftmatic, boy I'm back at it\nSmokin' these new boys like my last habit\nDabnabbit I tried to quit but everything I kick's like the last dragon\nHoes suckin' my drummer dick, they on my bandwagon\nI just gotta laugh cause y'all pushin' a lot of swag\nI'm pushin' this big ole Hearse, don't get body bagged\n\n\nThese new rappers be askin' me\nWhy I don't be hangin' out where they be hangin' out\nI tell 'em, I say \"Lil nigga listen here\"\nIf I don't got no business there, I don't got no business there\nSee there's a difference here\nYou hustlin' so you can be seen\nNigga I'm grindin' so I can disappear\nI don't do it like other rappers do\nWhen it's on time, it's skull and bone signs at the stu\nWe got guns you only find on your cheat code screen\nIf you think I remind you of any of these niggas you wildin' out\nLike Chico Bean\nWhen there's drama I don't ask no questions, I just clap in that direction\nI look at this gat like it's an actual accessory\nI'm anti-social so relax when you step to me\nNigga I shoot the breeze with actual weaponry\nYour lil' stare downs won't fare well\nI got a pale conscience, I'm the grey area\nLast person I had a bond with was a bail bondsman\nNow imagine me hangin' with y'all and we rappin' on the same song\nNigga I'd rather juggle a couple of chainsaws\nOr run through hell with a pair of gasoline Hanes on\nI'm a star but not on some I wanna be a star kinda shit\nThe only celebrity that give a fuck less than me is Marshawn Lynch\nGlock in the stash as a backup but the MAC'll burst\nCripple your style, your first born child'll come out\nWith a colostomy bag as the afterbirth\nI don't give a fuck\nNigga I'll show up to Beyonce's show posin' as Jay Z\nStagger in your studio session with a bomb strapped to my chest\nLookin' like Omarion holdin' his baby\nJump in the 4 door Mercedes with a .44 listenin' to JoJo and K-Ci\nDrinkin' and sniffin' enough blow that it got me thinkin' I can exchange sicknesses\nMaybe, this ebola for rabies\nThat's it, just livin' the rapper life\nBanana clip in the air, lookin' like it's 'bout to start singin' it's MAC tonight\nMACs, I use this MAC as a component for thugs rollin' up\nI got this MAC on and you better stay in that corner\nCause shit can turn into that song except I don't give a fuck what day it is\nI'll have this club goin' up, fuck with me\nMack magnet, attractin' enormous green\nSlap this clip in this gat then call this arm Christy Mack\nCause this bitch is that war machine\nLife of a giant, but who needs size when you're wack and your team's soft\nDrag your girl down this hill 'til she admits that it feels like she's jackin' the beanstalk\nWe both got marketing plans\nYours is to sell records and try to net more than you gross before\nMine is to punch you in your face if you ever disrespect me\nAnd then go invest into a grocery store\nRolled up with the Smith & Wesson and drew on you like let's fight now\nI do numbers, I turn you and your crew into two plumbers\nTranslation, get your shit together and pipe down\nFuck a mic, I don't write, I chew and spit\nI'll shoot you and your sis if you insist\nI got my eyes on the sparrow\nSilencer's so big it look like I got Bobby Shmurda tied to the front of the barrel\nAnd he doin' this\n\n\n(My name is Marshall\nI'm repping that motherfucking Motor City, bitch)\nI just turned Slaughterhouse to a quintet\nBegan to trend-set, murdered a friend's pet\nMade shit as ill as it can get went in depth\nLike a fucking vignette and two bars skins wet\nI'm already covered in sweat and I wasn't even ready to come in yet\nAHH, let me set this drink down\nBeat up a gal, start beef with her pal\nProbably be wild 'til I'm wrinkled and senile\nAnd \"Rap God\" was a freestyle\nOff the top of the dome piece while I was sleep on the couch\nAnd I'm freestyling now\nI need a towel, sweat leaks from my brow\nIt's burning my eyes, my cerebral is foul\nCause shit I'm thinking about should be illegal\nI need my head banned like the guy who left Cleveland Ohio\nAnd went to South Beach with his talents\nScream \"fuck you\" on the way out and wink with a smile\nThis whole game can eat a dick, I'm going back deep underground\nBut right now I'm back on that bullshit and you I'm singling out\nCause you're so fucking outdated you should mingle a while\nWhat the fuck is this Klusterfuk of busters\nBunch of Buster Douglas', motherfuckers is one hit wonders\nOne swing and you're crowned\nKnocked one out the park, one catchy jingle and now\nYou think you fucking with me cause you sold like 300 thou\nBitch, I can jump without my feet ever leaving the ground\nReach up, swing from a cloud with 3 thousand people around\nEvil and vile enough to leap in the crowd\nAnd heave a child in a sink hole on Cinco De Mayo\nWhen I'm sprinkled in pico de gallo\nMardi Gras beads in a towel\nI just made that up\nI don't know much Spanish, I'm not bilingual\nBut I'll show you a Mexican stand off\nBetween just these two amigos\nCause neither really wants to say what we're thinking out loud\nBut I sure as fuck think I know how read body English, no doubt\nCause we're trying to kill each other, but lyrically\nThe fuck is humility? What is a real emcee?\nRoyce, he came up in the shit with me\nNever spit that hustler shit, it wasn't a fit for me\nLet them adjust 'til they just get the gist of me\nJust not giving a fuck and plus with the history\nOf muscular distrophy, it wasn't a mystery\nWhy this middle finger was stuck in this upward positioning\nSo what in the fuck is a list to me?\nI'm used to not being on it, I expect it out 'em\nHeck wit' em, I get my respect without 'em\nAin't really been into diamonds since I put my first record out\nBut I could put a chain around my second album\nAnd wear it as a neck medallion\nBecame a millionaire, went downhill from there\nBecame civil, office swivel chair, sterling silverware\nScreaming life is still unfair til I get a real career\nThe fuck am I gonna do until then? This job is too fulfilling\nTwo ga-jillion pairs of super villain shoes to fill in\nAnd a mood to kill till I plow my Coupe de Ville\nInto some children at the food pavilion and Build-A-Bear\nWarrior's mind, I\u2019m pro-hydrocodone euphoria\nIn the Drug Emporium line, I'm soaring\nI'm pouring Vicodin four at the time ignoring the warning signs on 'em fore I go four wheeler riding\nGory and violent and horrifying\nYou surely won't find no one more appalling\nThan I am with this retaliatorial rhyming for Gloria Steinem\nBut I finger her like a witness, show me a line-up\nI usually am abusive, but excuse me, ma'am\nI guess I must've threw you for a loop like Toucan Sam\nWhen I said I could use the sample cause you's a tramp\nBut look how you react to this trigger like\nWhen I call you a bigger dyke than the Hoover Dam\nYou're playing right in Lex Luthor's hand\nIt's such a ruthless plan, might even lose a fan\nBut fuck it, Superman wouldn't change in a phone booth for Stan\nI'm a brand new being like Grand Puba's band\nHappy as Anderson Cooper having a tuba crammed\nIn his pooper with lubricant...wait, that's too... I can't\nSince honesty is the best policy I'll give you the old college try\nTry to acknowledge my mistakes, probably won't qualify\nAs a gentleman and a scholar, but it's time that I swallow pride\nAnd say that I'm sorry, sorry I can't apologize\nI think of all them times I compromised my bottom lines\nAnd thought of rhymes that sodomized your daughter's minds\nThen I'm like dollar signs\nBut I may fight for gay rights especially if they dyke\nIs more of a knockout than Janay Rice\nPlay nice, bitch, I'll punch Lana Del Rey right\nIn the face twice like Ray Rice in broad daylight\nIn plain sight of the elevator surveillance\nTil her head is banged on the railing\nThen celebrate with the Ravens\nNever date an assailant who self-medicates with inhalants\nI'd meditate, but I may need a better way to escape\nThe aggression, rage and the anger\nCause they restraints on the ankles\nHeavyweights and an anchor with handcuffs in chains\nThis ain't enough to contain it\nBut I still get the same respect as Jay if I came on\nStage in a fucking neglig\u00e9e everyday and Liz Claiborne\nDevastated from breakup with Kate Hudson\nWait slut, your friends, what are they gonna say\nCause makeup ain't gonna cover\nThat eye that's seven-eighths of the way shut\nPeppersprayed with your face cut\nMade my bank like a lay up\nOff these effing skanks on the way up\nOh, bitch thinks she's heaven-sent\nIt's evident that she ain't never been with seven inches\nYes, I said seven, I measured it\nSeven inches from the floor\nWhile I'm standing on the fourth floor balcony\nAt the Sheradon when I'm stretching it\nBitch, I'm a pimp so a limp dick is all you'll ever get\nSo if she's hesitant to get the hint\nI'll bet you that I get the message sent who she's messing with\nHella quick when I tell a chick not to ever use sex as a weapon\nWhen I step in and beat the wretched wench with a crescent wrench\nExistential detriments to a lesbian devil\nIn the unpleasant stench of an estrogen level\nThat separatists like a Chechnian rebel\nImpressionist with a pencil\nA pessimist, with his lips pressed against\nThe edge of this Red Bull\nPedal to the metal I'm rippin' this shit cause right away I'll give it to a bitch like a pedestrian, deadly as ever\nYou see what kind of effects she has on the opposite sex when I push her flexible little sexy ass through a plate of plexiglass\nSHADYXV as perplexing as\nThe last fifteen years and I'm predicting my next relapse\nWhen I spit these lyrics so don't look at me weird\nWhen I start shifting gears and shit re-smears all over Britney Spears\nAnd these little Disney queers\nWho use chicks for beards?\nJust made that up too...\nOh and the Shady 2.0\nWe wrote it in roman numerals like they do for the Super Bowls\nCause it's supposed to confuse you hoes\nThe flows lose you as usual, so juvenile\n2 year old when I go to the studio\nIt's only music but don't be foolish though\nYou don't know me through it ho but you can blow me to it though\nIn my homie's Buick\nBeen known to lose it though so if I overdo it you drove me to it\nWhen I step in the vocal booth like I'm supposed to do\nAnd I murder you on a fuckin' track like Tony Stewart\nIn one take, if I fuck up and I don't redo it\nYou couldn't sound grown on a beat if you were moaning to it\nThe day I don't say fuck you (w)all, you can throw me through it\nRootinest-tootinest, shootin' this from the hip\nWith the sentiments, Eminem isn't penning them for the women\nI'm an enemy to them and the epitome of an inconsiderate idiot\nBut they consider me equivalent to chlamydia\nThey tryna get rid of me gadzooks\nBut I stiggity stand for the fliggity flag\nOf the United States and the freedom, I distribute these raps through\nAnd if I catch you doing anything\nHindering or prohibiting that after I give me that\nTattoo of your lips on my ass I'mma be literally\nPickin' up and deliberately whippin' the Statue of Liberty at you WOOOOH!\n\nFuck it\n\nGot it somewhere in there probably"},
{"year": null, "title": "Oh No", "album": null, "lyrics": "Oh no what\u2019s happening to my brain\nI can\u2019t believe this is happening again\n\n\nLava out my lips I flips\nWake up think I have a cramp\nI\u2019m trying to shove the lava lamp up my father\u2019s ass\nI think I\u2019m out of gas, man\nI think I need another mask\nI\u2019d ask my mother but I think she\u2019s laughing at the plants\nA half a gram of graham crackers and some Van de Kamp\u2019s\nI think I\u2019ll eat some Ambiens like they\u2019re candied yams\nCut a couple cadavers up and have a little snack\nAbrafuckingcadabra motherfucker look who\u2019s back\nJust like a pendulum, Satan\u2019s pentagram swings\nI accidentally dented it and bent the damn thing\nShit I think I might have did it when I was dancing\nWhile I was chopping one of my legs off and pulled a hamstring\nFirst I Re-up, then I Relapse\nGo to rehab then I Detox after I see Doc\nAnd I\u2019ll be back with the sequel, repeat the cycle\nCause I react like the She-Hulk when I see Nyquil\n\n\nOh no\nHere we go again\nWhen it\u2019s going to end\nWhere did it begin\nMaybe way back when\n\n\nInto the well, baby Jessica fell\nShe may have wetted herself\nQuit playing, get her some help\nMary Kay Letourneau sending me letters from jail\nEvery day in journals saying how\nShe wanted to smother me in lettuce and mayo\nI\u2019m the medicine man\nMy medical marijuana was prescribed by a doctor\nShove a typewriter up her\nPerez Hilton\u2019s ass, shit, almost forgot that\nHe\u2019s always shoving something up his ass so why not that?\nAnd f-ck it while I\u2019m venting let\u2019s shove a vending machine\nUp his rear end when he\u2019s bending over pretending that he\nDidn\u2019t say anything that would be offending to me\nStick his head in a blender, begin blending in G\nWhere should I put the pink sissy with the fluffy hair?\nPut him under the stairs? People are already under there\nHmm, I wonder where. Wait, I think the cubpoard\u2019s bare\nStuff him up in the tupperware and shove him up in there\n\n\n\n\nVicodin\u2019s like a nitrogen hydrogen vitamin\nI bite into five and then I get high as a kite again\nI like it when I get in my zone on the mic again\nWho am I kidding? I couldn\u2019t quit this shit if my life depends\nI relapsed twice after I came outta Brighton then\nYeah, rehab\u2019s nice, I had my name up in lights again\nYou see that\u2019s why I can\u2019t decipher what life I\u2019m in\nI might pull a knife on your wife and slice her and dice her then\nIt sounds so enticing, isn\u2019t it nice when I\u2019m hype again?\nI\u2019m nice when I\u2019m like this, no time to write just type it in\nIf I could get my pen to slow down, what\u2019d I write just then?\nMan I\u2019m about to hyperventilate, I just have hyper-tension\nI have the type of mental state you couldn\u2019t comprehend\nUnusually stupid of you for you to think I\u2019m your friend\nI usually do what I do and suffer no consequence\nI offer no mercy, the controversy is once again"},
{"year": null, "title": "Off The Wall", "album": null, "lyrics": "No matter what people say\nI'm gonna keep rapping this way\nNo matter what you may think\nI'm gonna keep doing my thing\n\n\nI'm almost as famous as fat bald men\nDecided to write songs to teach Musketeers to sing\nI stick Britney Spears in a room full of mirrors\nSo she gets fifty years of bad luck \nCausing terror to Christina Aguilera\nWhen I grab her by the hair and drag her across the Sahara\nBeware of this rap terrorist with a therapist\nWith a hair up his ass like a rabbit crawled in his pants\nGotta have it, I hold Tylenol in his hands\n'til it melts in his fucking palms and dissolves in his glands\n(So who is it?)\nThe fool who visit the playground\nWith two biscuits to lay down the school district\nGet pistol whipped with a Mauseburg\nWith a pistol grip and fed pitbulls shit\nSniff glue sticks like I give two shits\nIf I get too rich, I just get sued\n\n\nYo, I leave with no injure, after I blow four in you\nOne handstand on top of your ninja\nCrash it, (ERRRR) Doc stir the madness\n'til you all outta work like Tony Atlas\nWalking, cans in the laundry basket\nAmerica's most with the army after us\nFuck flossing, we take what's yours\nA low fifteen like a ace in four\nI'm outta work, but Doc laid them off\n(shit, the power's out)\nThe tape is off\nYo, you targeted from arsonists\nPapermate pens filled with arsenic\nI got hoes that don't know what Prada is\nDoc could shape up, touch your barber miss\nBetty you with a bloody blade\nI turn rap camps into Crystal Lake\nFuck bitches face is what I'm gonna do\n'Cause that what white boy Tano do\n\n\nSo how is everybody doing tonight?\nHope you're in the mood to get drunk and scream in a fight\n'Cause uh, we getting down for the fuck of it\nSo suck my dick if you all don't wanna bump to this... Off the Wall!!\n\n\nYo, so how is everybody feeling tonight?\nHope you're in the mood to get rude and ill in a fight\n'Cause uh, we getting down for the fuck of it\nSo suck my dick if you don't wanna bump... Off the Wall!!\n\n\nNo matter what people say\nI'm gonna keep rapping this way\nNo matter what you may think\nI'm gonna keep doing my thing\n\n\nYo, you could buy Jaz spittin', hospital, son admit it\nRip your lips off, kiss my ass with it\nSlap bitches, got Marshall Maths \nWeed, X, and the acid tabs did it\nI'm \"What's happening?\" with no \"Rerun\"\nDoc Rob \"Deniro\" when the \"Heat\" come\nMy barrel hang out the Camaro\nAimed at the nose of them hoes it's hard to breathe from\nFlash the gat, your town, bogardin'\nYour wallet, your chain the main target\nBeef is like cold engine, don't start it\nBust in the air and hit a airplane pilot\nWe clowned you, rap surround sounds around you\nFrom ten speed and brown shoe\nDoc and Eminem, cock the M & M\nBlood flows with 2Pacalypse and them\n\n\nIt's like, Funk Doctor meets the punk rocker\nGot the drugs stopped inside the lunch box \nPop junk like I just got jumped\nPopped the trunk and pulled out the shotgun pump\nKnock wood, it's all good, thank God for Vodka\n'Cause with my luck, I'll probably get shot by a stalker\nProbably got a fanatic waiting upstairs in the attic\nWith an automatic calling me up there\nMy man Stan with a gat in his hand\nStaking my house out in a tan tinted Sedan\nHe pull your mouth out 'til you can't finish a damn\nHam sandwich, or your can spinach and Spam\n'til you gotta sip through a straw, shoplifted a mall\nPictures of me on my mom's living room wall\nHey ma, maybe I'll give you a call\nSike you fucking bitch, suck a dick and two balls\nI'm giving you all my job descript'\nwhich is to piss bitches and priest off with this\nPop more pills than police officers\nArrive at the scene and pull me off of Kim\nTeeth off my dick, hands off my balls\nBut you all can kiss my ass, pants off and all\n'Cause I'm so goddamn off the wall\nI might as well as be a painting smashed on the floor\n\n\nSo how is everybody feeling tonight?\nHope you're in the mood to get rude and ill in a fight\nCause uh, we getting down for the fuck of it\nSo suck my dick if you don't wanna bump to this... Off the Wall!\n\n\nSo how's everybody doing tonight?\nHope you're in the mood to get drunk and scream in a fight\nCause uh, we getting down for the fuck of it\nSo suck my dick if y'all don't wanna bump to this... Off the Wall!\n\n\nNo matter what people say\nI'm gonna keep rapping this way\nNo matter what you may think\nI'm gonna keep doing my thing\nNo matter what people say\nI'm gonna keep doing my thing\nNo matter... oh"},
{"year": null, "title": "My Only Chance", "album": null, "lyrics": "People got issues man\nYou gotta do something about that\nYou talking about me like you fucking know me man, like\nIt's funny man I go to sleep and I laugh at it\nDon't even bother me no more\nYeah like, listen\n\nIt's times like these when I feel regret\nWhen I gotta work for this worthless cheque that don't pay for shit\nI never finished school what do you expect? Me to be cool?\nYes? No? I don't think so\nWell back in school they tell me\nWhat if I start drowning are you gonna to be there to bail me? I don't think so\nSo please save the talk for someone else\nI feel like I should have been someone else\nBut damn I'm not, I'm stuck in this hell spot\nI fail to prevail so let my ass rot\nI wish I was an abortion but I'm afraid not\nA portion of my life is I'm happy I'm here\nThe rest is a blank spot\nI think everything is going to be okay. Yeah, I think not!\nI hate my life I bet you hate yours too\nBut what's the reason for being this motherfucking miserable?\nPeople tell you to be positive how do you take that\nWhen shit around you is negative and can't catch a break jack\n\nWhy do I feel this way\nI say why do I feel this way\nSee I got too much weight on my shoulder blades\nHow much more weight can I take\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nMan, I'm sick and tired of all this shit\nHow could you be so cold\n\nThen in school, don't you listen to them\nThey just pissed at you man they're just mad you're doing shit better than them\nI swear you dope, fuck what they think\nThey can all suck a dick, suckers die they all fucking stink\nThey're shit, shit don't take it personal, this is the world we live in, shit stays in urinals\nComplex self esteem issues, so they diss you to up themselves and make themselves feel special\nUnderstand you're up there up where? up here nobody can touch you\nMotherfucker you're nuts yeah,\nyou are not a quitter\nyou are sicker\nthan most of these little skanks so stop feeling bitter\nabout yourself\nYou know these suckers \u2013 you're much bigger\nYou function on a different level, you're something like a ton bigger\nYour tongue is fungus your skill is humongous\nYou know it so fuck it don't listen to these dumb kids\n\nWhy do I feel this way\nI say why do I feel this way\nSee I got too much weight on my shoulder blades\nHow much more weight can I take\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nMan, I'm sick and tired of all this shit\nHow could you be so cold\n\nThe world is a cold ass place man you can't quit\nIf you quit you might as well call yourself dead\nYou know what I'm saying? So keep moving don't take shit personal\nDon't let it get to you\nDon't let them get the best of you, man\n\nI look toward my goal, so I move forward I know\nIf I stop now I'm proven that I'm no good and these haters win\nI won't let that happen again, I'm a fighter a lighter bitch\nI'mma fight till I retire,\nI took a breath to rewired my wires\nI'm Robocop back from the dead\nThe show don't stop till I roll over rot\nI know that I'm hot, I don't need people to tell me that\nNot even school to hold me back and tell me that I'm a failure\nI'll nail your coffin, soft in your hard image\nI'm starving and it is kinda crazy how I keep eating\nWithout taking a break and drinking a shake in between\nBreast that I barely take or some water to wash down\nThis awful taste I wonder if anyone out there can relate\nMan I'm losing any grasp I have on my fate\nCause I'm so rough soon no record deal on my plate\nHalf of those fuckers can't even see me\nThe other half wanna be me\nThe ones that don't know me don't know that I'm killing beats easy\nMan I'm mad I can't understand it\nTell the planet to kiss my ass and\nGrab a sweater and cram it, damn it\n\nWhy do I feel this way\nI say why do I feel this way\nSee I got too much weight on my shoulder blades\nHow much more weight can I take\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nHow could you be so cold huhh huhh?\nMan, I'm sick and tired of all this shit\nHow could you be so cold"},
{"year": null, "title": "My Name Is.. (Radio/Video Edit)", "album": null, "lyrics": "Hi! My name is.. (what?) My name is.. (who?)\nMy name is..  Slim Shady\nHi! My name is.. (huh?) My name is.. (what?)\nMy name is..  Slim Shady\n\nAhem.. excuse me!\nCan I have the attention of the class for one second?\n\n\nHi kids! Do you like Primus? (Yeah yeah!)\nWanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails through each one of my eyelids? (Uh-huh!)\nWanna copy me and do exactly like I did?\nTry {'cid} and get messed up worse that my life is?\nMy brain's dead weight, I'm tryin to get my head straight\nbut I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate\nAnd Dr. Dre said, \"Slim Shady you a basehead!\"\nUh-uhhh! \"So why's your face red? Man you wasted!\"\nWell since age twelve, I've felt like a caged elf\nwho stayed to himself, in one space, chasin his tail (blalblalblabla)\nGot ticked off and ripped Pamela Lee's lips off\nKissed em and said, \"I ain't know silicone was 'sposed to be this soft\"\nI'm bout to pass out and crash, and fall in the grass\nfaster than a fat man who sat down too fast\nC'mere lady! (Shady, wait a minute, that's my girl dog!)\nI don't give a damn, Dre sent me to tick the world off!\n\n\n\n\nMy English teacher wanted to flunk me in junior high (Damn!)\nThanks a lot.. next semester, I'll be thirty-five\nI smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler\nand told him to change the grade on the paper (Now!)\nWalked in the strip club, had my jacket zipped up\nServed the bartender, then walked out with a tip cup\nExtraterrestrial, runnin over pedestrians\nin a spaceship while they're screamin at me: \"LET'S JUST BE FRIENDS!\"\nNinety-nine percent of my life I was lied to\nI just found out my mom does more dope than I do\nI told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper\nMake a record about doin drugs and name it after her (Here mom!)\nYou know you blew up when the women rush your stands\nand try to touch your hands like some screamin Usher fans (Aaahhhhhh!)\nThis guy at White Castle asked for my autograph (Dude, can I get your autograph?)\nSo I signed it: 'Dear Dave, thanks for the support, ASSHOLE!'\n\n\n\n\nStop the tape! This kid needs to be locked away! (Get him!)\nDr. Dre, don't just stand there, OPERATE!\nI'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die\nI'll have to be carried inside the cemetery and buried alive\nAm I comin or goin? I can barely decide\nI just drank a fifth of Kool-Aid -- dare me to drive? (Go ahead)\nAll my life I was very deprived\nI ain't had a woman in years, and my palms are too hairy to hide\nClothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk (hachhh-too)\nI spit when I talk, I'll fuck anything that walks (C'mere)\nWhen I was little I used to get so hungry I would throw fits\nHOW YOU GONNA BREAST FEED ME MOM? (WAH!) YOU AIN'T GOT NO TITS! (WAH!)\nI lay awake and strap myself in the bed\nPut a bulleproof vest on and tap myself in the head (BANG!)\nI'm steamin mad (Arrrggghhh!)\nAnd by the way when you see my dad? (Yeah?)\nAsk him if he bought a porno mag and seen my ad"},
{"year": null, "title": "Love Me", "album": null, "lyrics": "You don't see me in the hood\nIt's cause I'm doing this man\n\nNiggas, I'm still grinding, (yeah...)\nI'm still hearing those sirens,\nI'm still getting chased by those lights,\nOnly the light's mine and my mic's on\nAnd my time is none because I'm writing more,\nAnd I ain't here to meet a soul in this buisness,\nI'm here to eat, speak, until these hoes feel this, (for sure...)\nand I can't let y'all derail me man, \nI got young Kobe, homie, you gotta let go of Obie\ncause Obie be back, (ain't goin' nowhere man...)\nWe got them craps going on\nand that yak going on,\nsoon as a nigga touch down back from tourin',\nIt's whateva, put that on the chedda man,\nbut in the meantime, it's Jimmy Ivene time,\nchase cheese, rhyme till my voice give out,\nthis is it my nigga, this what we boast about,\nNow I'm here so shut your motherfuckin mouth\nAnd show me love bitch..\n\n\n\nI just wanna love you for the rest of my life, (I dont love you bitch)\nI wanna hold you in the morning, (Ha)\nhold you through the night (Hahaha)\n\nI just wanna love you for the rest of my life, (We wanna love alcohol, we wanna love guns,)\nI wanna hold you in the morning, (we wanna love money)\nhold you through the night.. (Ha) (we don't wanna love bitches though)\n\n\n\nThere's a certain mystique when I speak,\nthat you notice that it's sorta unique,\ncause you know it's me, my poetry's deep,\nand I'm still matic the way I flow to this beat,\nyou can't sit still, it's like tryin to smoke crack\nand go to sleep, I'm strapped,\njust knowing any minute I could snap,\nI'm the equivalent of what would happen if Bush rapped,\nI bully these rappers so bad lyrically,\nit ain't even funny, I ain't even hungry,\nit ain't even money, you can't pay me enough\nfor you to play me, it's cockamamie,\nyou just ain't zany enough to rock with Shady,\nmy noodle is cockadoodle, my clocks cuckoo,\nI got screws loose, yeahhh, the whole kitten-kaboodle,\nI'm just brutal. It's no rumor, I'm numero uno, assume it,\nthere's no humor in it no more, you know\nI'm rollin with a swollen bowling ball in my bag,\nyou need a fag to come and tear a new hole in my ass\nyou better love me bitch\n\n\nI just wanna love you for the rest of my life,\nI wanna hold you in the morning,\nhold you through the night\n\n\n(and all the bitches say)\n\nI just wanna love you for the rest of my life,\nI wanna hold you in the morning,\nhold you through the night\n\n\n\nmy boyz is crazy in the hood, they holla my name,\nif it ain't about the flow,\nit's about the stones and the chain,\nif I was you, I'd love me too,\nI roll like a bus, 9-11 pulse same color as cranberry sauce,\nI ain't gonna front, I thought R-Kelly was tha shit,\nthen we find out he fucking round with bow wow bitch,\nniggas eatin popcorn, right, rewinding the tape,\nnow shorty momma in the precinct hollerin rape,\ni'm convinced man something really wrong with these hoes,\nI thought Lil' Kim was hot then she start fucking with her nose, (God Damn)\nused to listen to Lauren Hill and tap my feet,\nthen the bitch put out a CD that didn't have no beats, (uh-huh)\nthat boy D'Angelo he determined not to fail,\nthat nigga went butt-ass for his record to sell,\nmy back shot to help Ashanti hit them high notes,\nand Big Ben taught Charlie B-more to deepthroat\n\n\nI just wanna love you for the rest of my life,\nI wanna hold you in the morning, (I luv'a burnish the monies, the bunnies)\nhold you through the night(I just wanna hold you\n\nI just wanna love you for the rest of my life, I wanna hold you in the morning,\n(I just wanna love you)\nhold you through the night"},
{"year": null, "title": "Lose Your Tourniquet", "album": null, "lyrics": "Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity\nTo seize everything you ever wanted-One moment\nWould you capture it or just let it slip?\n\nHis palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy\nThere's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti\nHe's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready to drop bombs,\nbut he keeps on forgettin what he wrote down,\nthe whole crowd goes so loud\nHe opens his mouth, but the words won't come out\nHe's choking now, everybody's joking now\nThe clock's run out, time's up over, bloah!\nSnap back to reality, Oh there goes gravity\nOh, there goes Rabbit, he choked\nHe's so mad, but he won't give up that\nEasy, no\nHe won't have it, he knows his whole back's to these ropes\nIt don't matter, he's dope\nHe knows that, but he's broke\nHe's so stagnant that he knows\nWhen he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's\nBack to the lab again yo\nThis this whole rhapsody\nHe better go capture this moment and hope it don't\n\n\nMy God my tourniquet\nreturn to me salvation\nmy God my tourniquet\nreturn to me salvation \n\n\nThe soul's escaping, through this hole that it's gaping\nThis world is mine for the taking\nMake me king, as we move toward a, new world order\nA normal life is boring, but superstardom's close to post mortem\nIt only grows harder, only grows hotter\nHe blows us all over these hoes is all on him\nCoast to coast shows, he's know as the globetrotter\nLonely roads, God only knows\nHe's grown farther from home, he's no father\nHe goes home and barely knows his own daughter\nBut hold your nose 'cause here goes the cold water\nHis hoes don't want him no more, he's cold product\nThey moved on to the next schmoe who flows\nHe nose dove and sold nada\nSo the soap opera is told and unfolds\nI suppose it's old partner but the beat goes on\nDa da dum da dum\n\n\nMy God my tourniquet\nreturn to me salvation\nmy God my tourniquet\nreturn to me salvation \n\n\nNo more games, I'ma change what you call rage\nTear this motherfucking roof off like 2 dogs caged\nI was playing in the beginning, the mood all changed\nI been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage\nBut I kept rhyming and stepwritin the next cypher\nBest believe somebody's paying the pied piper\nAll the pain inside amplified by the fact\nThat I can't get by with my 9 to 5\nAnd I can't provide the right type of life for my family\nCause man, these goddam food stamps don't buy diapers\nAnd it's no movie, there's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life\nAnd these times are so hard and it's getting even harder\nTrying to feed and water my seed, plus\nTeeter totter caught up between being a father and a prima donna\nBaby mama drama's screaming on and\nToo much for me to wanna\nStay in one spot, another day of monotony\nHas gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail\nI've got to formulate a plot or I end up in jail or shot\nSuccess is my only motherfucking option, failure's not\nMom, I love you, but this trailer's got to go\nI cannot grow old in Salem's lot\nSo here I go is my shot.\nFeet fail me not cause maybe the only opportunity that I got\n\n\nMy wounds cry for the grave\nmy soul cries for deliverance\nwill I be denied Christ\ntourniquet\nmy suicide ..."},
{"year": null, "title": "Just Rhymin Wit Proof", "album": null, "lyrics": "Are we supposed to shut up or talk...I'll cut your butt up and walk...\r\nAround with my ass showing all over the fuckin town\r\n\r\n\r\n....Then You get done up in chalk\r\nYo....\r\n\r\n\r\nWe ready...we ready .. we ready.. we ready ?\r\nReady to hold it steady....Speakin of hold it steady....\r\nYou can hold my nuts steady and then....\r\nI can stick my dick in you like a machette...If you're a girl...\r\nIf you're a girl then you're my world...And I will kill anybody...\r\nThat means... you, her or him\r\nIt doesnt matter cuz I'm Eminem\r\nAnd I'm Slim...I'm also slim and your future's Whim\r\n\r\n\r\nHa ha....don't stop\r\nD-12 y'all...yea we bust it off the top\r\nWe get in that ass Preparation-H style\r\nKnock more boots than that group H-Town (Booo!)\r\nEverybody tryina tell us to wait now\r\nYou look dumb as fuck...Like Puffy in his video on that breakdown (hahaha)\r\nTryin to dance around\r\nHow the fuck it feel lock in hand set now\r\nSever your style .. Divide and Parish\r\nPart ish...when my cart is bustin thru this...\r\nWassup to Bizzare Kid\r\nTargets get hit and liftoff\r\nHere it is we bout to rip off\r\nLick shots...no time...we gettin dick snot\r\nEmzy...\r\n\r\n\r\nSpeakin of lift off....\r\nI'm blastin off...your ass is soft...so I'm startin to jack off\r\nCuz I'm so horny...and your lyrics are so corny\r\nThat they bore me and I woke up too late this morning\r\nOr too early...wait a minute there goes Shirley...\r\nThe girly I fucked last year when her hair was curly \r\nCouldnt remember it cuz I was Infinite\r\nAnd I met ken Kaniff in Connecticut\r\nHe said his predicits and pronouns and wanted to throw down\r\nAnd he said oAUI like youoAY...and then he walked up and said oAU let me snake bite\r\nyouoAY\r\nAnd I said hell no...kicked him with my shell toe...\r\nGave him a elbow...Ayo Proof ...go....\r\n\r\n\r\nYo it's the D to the 1 - 2\r\nWhat you wanna get done to...\r\nYour chest plate...eradicate\r\nGet your flesh ate...easily done..Here it is...\r\nFreestyle...no need to write shit...cuz when we write shit\r\nY'all like to bite shit...that why street light up when we write stuff\r\nIt's time to be the champions at this...it's D-12\r\n1-2 True crew...Slim Shady and Big proof\r\nKnockin over Igloos in Alaska when we blast ya\r\nA massacre creator, one time for data\r\nDarker than Vader...go anybody hot as the equator\r\nIt's time to get down one time for those that dont know us\r\nGirls wanna blow us like Monica....Lewinsky\r\nCome against me...\r\n\r\n\r\nGo and see I'm an invincible Mc\r\nIf you dont believe it then you wanna try to convince me\r\nThat you're doper than me...which we'll hope\r\nYou would hope to be....but hopefully I will rock globaly\r\nAnd nationwide...thats why my ass is wide\r\nThats why your ass just died on the passanger side...\r\nLike a fuckin ride...when it got shot up by a drive by\r\nWhen I drove by 5 times and gave it five tries\r\nAnd still missed it\r\nI got a fuckin mental illness a gentle stillness...\r\nViolence...complete silence is what I need in the room while I freestyle\r\nWhat I need is to do...what is need is smoke weed and brew\r\nAnd......smoke brew ? You don't smoke brew...\r\nIf you do I'll choke you and then I garauntee I'll out smoke you\r\nYou're crew's a joke too and i can stick my dick in a bitch and poke you....\r\n\r\n\r\nStick it in there....rock with my cock on sky rock\r\nKnock ya eye out the sock...(sock)\r\nGet..(get) yeah we come to rock....(it)\r\nSo don't get in the way cuz we gon drop....(shit)\r\nNow how you feel right now we bust yo..op....(tic)....(tock)\r\nWe lunatics with mics and we dont stop we come to rock\r\nThe dirty dozen is non-stop..\r\nTo the top from tree tops to ewoks that pop Reeboks\r\nAnd men with pre-ops\r\nYo now there is 3-Pac's\r\nMaster P....Thug Life and now it's 2pac\r\nGet back to that one...here goes the rhyme that you dropped...\r\n\r\n\r\nThe rhyme that I dropped is stickin up IHOP\r\nIn high tops and walking around like a one eyed Cyclops\r\nAnd you can't see me....I only got one eye and I can still see you\r\nYou can even give it a dumb try...If you're a dumb guy then come try this\r\nBut I rock the microphone with my flyness\r\nSo get off my jock..get of my cock..when I sky rock ...it in sky \r\nrock..shit...bitch\r\n\r\n\r\nAyo...a lot of people always try to tell us...that we gona be better or \r\nfailrues\r\nBut me or slim yo you cant tell me...\r\nYou try to freestyle son we gon put these verses on your Lp\r\nSlow down with that old stuff....I heard the most of y'all is Mos Def\r\n\r\n\r\nMy Lp...my whole Lp...tha last one was screaming help me\r\nYou couldnt melt me if you was Vanilla Ice...Yo guess what....\r\nMy Nuuuuuuuuutz\r\nHere I go with the lyrical miracle...spiritual spirital...you dont wanna hear \r\nit tho\r\nI rickety rock the micrphone\r\nDon't do it dont do it cuz that shit is stupid...I knew it\r\nI take a beat and loop it...i take a beat and troop it\r\nWhat the fuck did that mean...I dont know but i got phat jeans on\r\nAnd I already said that but I dont know where my head's at\r\nAll I wanna do is go back to the hotel and know where my bed's at\r\n\r\n\r\nyo wheres the beds at so we can relax and catch Ease\r\nY'all dont want none of tha dirty Deez\r\n>From the 3-1 its for the three of thirds\r\nOne third Mc yo we smoke y'all like herbs\r\nUnder the curb early morn take it to born \r\nY'all get broke up...put back together ...re-enacment\r\nSome times you see this...you just a faggot\r\nNo need to tag it...wit more loot that Jimmy Swagart\r\n\r\n\r\nFaggot....uh oh...was that homophobic...\r\nBut no one knows it...and I'm so homophobic \r\nI wont even throw clothes in the Closet\r\nFuck it...I've lost it....I'm holocausted...see my face it's written all \r\nacrossed it\r\nThis beer makes me wanna disappear this year\r\nI'm so high I'm bout to die...and I'm so tired I'm bout to fry\r\nYou're so fired you're down\r\n\r\n\r\nHey....it's me...it's the hamster man...\r\nComing all the way from Amsterdam....\r\nAnd I come to tell you all a little secret.....\r\nSo you can ........eat it ....you got to grab your crackers\r\n{mumbling}\r\n\r\n\r\nQuit spittin your writ shit bitch I'll kill you and kick you \r\nIn your motherfuckin dick and your clit...you little pussy\r\nHermaphardite with no apettite\r\nAnd you aint rappin right but you was taking rapid bites\r\nOf my dick when you was on it...my brain is haunted\r\nI walk up in a place in a t shirt wit my stains on it\r\nBut i dont give a damn...give a fuck...give a shit...give a hell\r\ngive a piss give a dick give a lick\r\n\r\n\r\nYea....live and direct it's us\r\nYou better back up...\r\n\r\n\r\nYou better back up before I jack off\r\nBack off before I jack off\r\n\r\n\r\nYou better back off before he jack off (laughing)\r\nYou better back off before I jack off \r\n\r\n\r\nColder than Jack Frost...smack you across your face\r\nWhile I'm still jackin off\r\nSittin in the closet beatin my shit\r\nAint got nuttin else to do cuz I'm thinkin of a bitch\r\nWait a minute ...oh shit she's here...\r\nLook who walked in the door....come in it's Britney Spears\r\n(Ken Kaniff)\r\nOh....come here little girl\r\ncome here little girl\r\n\r\n\r\nWhat happened? (I dunno)\r\nWe stopped rappin (Oh it's Clappin)\r\nGun clappin...and all I need is one napkin to wipe the cum off\r\nWhen I come off with the drum off\r\nWhatever the hell that meant...but I can still speak wit a accent\r\nA french accent Excuse my french but \r\nSuck my dick touche le le poo...uhh....bitch\r\n\r\n\r\nBonjuor...I'm here with the cure...Oh yea lets rock it for the drawer\r\nHey Em...how you doin this is me...The Em jock...get off my...\r\nDamn cock .....laughing...."},
{"year": null, "title": "Just Lose It", "album": null, "lyrics": "Down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down!\nOK..\nGuess who's back?\nBack again\nShady's back\nTell a friend\nWhaaaaaaaa\n\nNow everyone report to the dance floor\nTo the dance floor, to the dance floor\nNow everyone report to the dance floor\nAlright, stop! Pajama time\n\nCome here, little kiddies, on my lap\nGuess who's back with a brand new rap?\nAnd I don't mean rap as in a new case of child investigation accusation\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nNo worries, papa's got a brand new bag of toys\nWhat else could I possibly do to make noise?\nI done touched on everything but little boys\nThat's not a stab at Michael\nThat's just a metaphor, I'm just psycho\nI go a little bit crazy sometimes\nI get a little bit out of control with my rhymes\nGood God, dip, do a little slide\nBend down, touch your toes and just glide\nUp the center of the dance floor\nLike TP for my bunghole\nAnd it's cool if you let one go\nNobody's gonna know, who'd hear it?\nGive a little \"poot poot\", it's OK! \nOops, my CD just skipped\nAnd everyone just heard you let one rip\n\nNow I'm gonna make you dance\nIt's your chance\nYeah, boy, shake that ass\nOops, I mean girl,\nGirl, girl, girl,\nGirl, you know you're my world\nAlright now lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nJust lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nGo crazy\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nOh, baby\n(AH-AH)\nOh, baby, baby\n(AH-AH)\n\nWell, it's Friday and it's my day\nJust to party all the way to Sunday\nMaybe 'til Monday, I dunno what day\nEveryday's just a holiday\nCrusin' on the freeway\nFeelin' kinda breezy\nGot the top down, lettin' my hair blow\nI dunno where I'm goin'\nAll I know is when I get there\nSomeone's gonna touch my body\n\nExcuse me, miss, I don't mean to sound like a jerk\nBut I'm feelin' just a little stressed out from work\nCould you punch me in the stomach and pull my hair?\nSpit on me, maybe gouge my eyes out? (Yeah)\nNow, what's your name, girl?\nWhat's your sign?\n \"Man, you must be up out your mind.\"\nDRE! (AH-AH)\nBeer goggles! Blind!\nI'm just tryna unwind now I'm\n\nNow I'm gonna make you dance\nIt's your chance\nYeah, boy, shake that ass\nOops, I mean girl,\nGirl, girl, girl,\nGirl, you know you're my world\nAlright now lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nJust lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nGo crazy\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nOh, baby\n(AH-AH)\nOh, baby, baby\n(AH-AH)\n\nIt's Tuesday and I'm locked up\nI'm in jail and I don't know what happened\nThey say I was running butt-naked\nDown the street screaming\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nWell, I'm sorry, I don't remember\nAll I know is this much\nI'm not guilty\nThey said, \"Save it, boy, we gotcha you on tape yellin' at an old lady to 'Touch My Body!'\"\n\nNow this is the part where the rap breaks down\nIt gets real intense, no one makes a sound\nEverything looks like it's 8 Mile now\nThe beat comes back and everybody lose themselves\nSnap back to reality\nLook it's B.Rabbit!\nYo you signed me up to battle!?\nI'm a grown man!\nChubba chubba chubba chubba chubba chubbie\nI don't have any lines to go right here so, chubba teletubbie!\nFella's (what?!) fella's (what?!)\nGrab you left nut, make your right one jealous (what?)\nBlack girls\nWhite girls\nSkinny girls\nFat girls\nTall girls\nSmall girls\nI'm callin' all girls\n\nEveryone report to the dance floor\nIt's your chance for a little romance or\nButt squeezin' it's the season\nJust go (AH-AH-AH-AH)\nIt's so appeasin'\n\nNow I'm gonna make you dance\nIt's your chance\nYeah, boy, shake that ass\nOops, I mean girl,\nGirl, girl, girl,\nGirl, you know you're my world\nAlright now lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nJust lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nGo crazy\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nOh, baby\n(AH-AH)\nOh, baby, baby\n(AH-AH)\n\nUmMmMmm touch my body\nUmMmMmm touch my body\nOoh, boy, just touch my body\nI mean, girl, just touch my body"},
{"year": null, "title": "Infinite (F.B.T. Remix)", "album": null, "lyrics": "Ah, yeah (It's like this, like this)\nThis is Eminem, baby, back up in that motherfucking ass\n('Til forever, 'til forever)\nOne time for your motherfuckin' mind (For MC's, MC's)\nWe represent the 313, you know what I'm saying?\nYo, they don't know shit about this, for the '96\n\nAyo, my pen and paper cause a chain reaction\nTo get your brain relaxin', the zany actin' maniac in action\nA brainiac in fact, son, you mainly lack attraction\nYou look insanely wack when just a fraction of my tracks run\nMy rhymin' skills got you climbin' hills\nI travel through your mind, and chill your spine like siren drills\nI'm slimin' grills of roaches, with spray that disinfects\nAnd twistin' necks of rappers\n'Til their spinal column disconnects\nPut this in decks and check the monologue\nTurn your system up, twist 'em up\nAnd indulge in the marijuana smog\nThis is the season for noise pollution contamination\nExamination of more car-tunes than animation\nMy lamination of narration\nHits a snare and bass on a track for duck rapper interrogation\nWhen I declare invasion\nThere ain't no time to be starin', gazin'\nI turn the stage into a barren wasteland\n\nI'm Infinite; you heard of Hell\nWell, I was sent from it\nI went to it, serving a sentence\nFor murdering instruments\nNow I'm trying to repent from it\nBut when I hear the beat, I'm tempted\nTo make another attempt at it; I'm Infinite\n\nBust it! I let the beat commence\nSo I can beat the sense in your elite defense\nI got some meat to mince\nA crew to stomp, and then two feet to rinse\nI greet the gents and ladies, I spoil loyal fans\nI foil plans and leave fluids leaking like oil pans\nMy coiled hands around this microphone are lethal\nOne thought in my cerebral is deeper than a jeep-full of people\nMC's are feeble, I came to cause some pandemonium\nBattle a band of phony MC's, and stand the lonely one\nImitator, intimidator, stimulator\nSimulator of data eliminator\nThere's never been a greater since the burial of Jesus\nFuck around and catch all the venereal diseases\nMy thesis'll smash a stereo to pieces\nMy a cappella releases classic masterpieces\nThrough telekinesis, it eases you mentally\nGently, sentimentally, instrumentally\nWith entity, dementedly meant to be Infinite\n\nI'm Infinite; you heard of Hell\nWell, I was sent from it\nI went to it, serving a sentence\nFor murdering instruments\nNow I'm trying to repent from it\nBut when I hear the beat, I'm tempted\nTo make another attempt at it; I'm Infinite\n\nMan, I got evidence, I'm never dense\nAnd I've been clever ever since my residence was hesitant\nTo do some shit that represents the MO\nSo I'm assuming all responsibility\n'Cause there's a monster will in me\nThat always wants to kill MCs\nMic nestler, slammin' like a wrestler\nHere to make a mess of a lyric smuggling embezzler\nNo one else is specialer, my skill is intergalactical\nI get cynical, act a fool, then I send a crew back to school\nI never packed a tool or acted cool, it wasn't practical\nI'd rather let a tactical, tactful track tickle your fancy\nIn fact, I can't see, or can't imagine\nA man who ain't a lover of beats or a fan of scratchin'\nSo this is for my family, the kid who had a cameo\nOn my last jam, plus the man who never had a plan B\nBe all you can be, 'cause once you make an instant hit\nI'm tensed a bit, and tempted\nWhen I see the sins my friends commit\n\nI'm Infinite; you heard of Hell\nWell, I was sent from it\nI went to it, serving a sentence\nFor murdering instruments\nNow I'm trying to repent from it\nBut when I hear the beat, I'm tempted\nTo make another attempt at it; I'm Infinite\n\n'95, '96 ('96)\nAnd on and on and on (and on and on)"},
{"year": null, "title": "Go To Sleep", "album": null, "lyrics": "I ain't gonna eat, I ain't gonna sleep\nAin't gonna breathe, 'til I see what I wanna see\nAnd what I wanna see, is you go to sleep in the dirt\nPermanently, you just being hurt\nThis ain't gonna work for me\nIt just wouldn't be, sufficient enough\nCause we, are just gonna be, enemies\nAs long as we breathe, I don't ever see, either of us\nComing to terms, where we can agree\nThere ain't gonna be, no reasoning, speaking wit me\nYou speak on my seed, then me, no speak-a ingles\nSo we gonna beef, and keep on beefing, unless\nYou're gonna agree, to meet with me in the flesh\nAnd settle this face to face, and you're gonna see\nA demon unleashed in me, that you've never seen\nAnd you're gonna see, this gangster pee on himself\nI see you D12, and thanks, but me need no help\nMe do this one all by my lonely\nI don't need fifteen of my homies\nWhen I see you, I'm seeing you, me and you only\nWe never met, but best believe you gon' know me\nWhen I'm this close, to see you exposed as phony\nCome on bitch, show me, pick me up, throw me\nLift me up, hold me, just like you told me\nYou was gonna do, that's what I thought, you're pitiful\nI'm rid of you, all of you, Ja, you'll get it too!\n\n\nNow go to sleep bitch\nDie, motherfucker, die\nUgh, time's up, bitch, close ya eyes\nGo to sleep, bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nHow many times I gotta say, close ya eyes\nAnd go to sleep bitch (what)\nDie motherfucker die, bye, bye, motherfucker, bye, bye\nGo to sleep bitch (what)\nWhy are you still alive\nWhy, die motherfucker, ah, ah, ah\nGo to sleep bitch\n\n\nWe got you niggas nervous\nOn purpose, to hurt your focus\nYou's not MC's, you's worthless\nYou's not them G's, you's a circus\nYou's no appeal, please\nYou's curtains, you use words Kool Herc slurred in two thousand third\nYou's purping, you's no threat, who's ya serving\nWhen lyrically oughta bury you beneath the dirt when\nYou fuck with a label overseeing the Earth\nShady muthafucka, O. Trice's birth\nAnd as I mold, I become a curse\nSo we can put down the verse, take it to the turf\nCock and squeeze, and he who reach the hearse is he who\nDepicts fiction in his verse\nAnd as I breathe, and you be deceased\nThe world believe you deceived just to speak\nYou's not the streets, you's the desk\nUse not your chest nigga, use a vest\nBefore two's choose ya rest, you chose death\nSix feet deep, nigga, that's the depth\n\n\n\n\nHey dog, I'mma walk like a beast, talk like the streets\nI'mma stay blazing New York with the heat\nStalk on the beat, walk with my feet\nUnderstand my pain, the rain ain't sleet\nPeep how I'm moving, peep where I'm going\nShit don't seep, then sleep not knowing\nBut I'mma keep growing, getting larger than life\nEasy going with the same one that started the fight\nHe be knowing how dog get, when dog don't bite\nTried to show him the dog shit, it's dog for life\nGrand Champ, and my Blood Line is tight\nCuz it's all good, it's all right\nNiggas tried to holla, but couldn't holla back\nNow they gots to swallow, everything in the sac\nBlood Line, and, we can go track for track\nDamn, dog, why'd you have to do them niggas like that\n\n\n\n\nAll you motherfuckers, take that\nHere, take this too, bitch\nUh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Wahoo\nWe're killing all you motherfuckers dead, all of you\nFake ass gangsters\nNo more press\nNo more press\nRot, motherfuckers, rot\nDecay, in the dirt, bitch, in the motherfucking dirt\nDie nameless, bitch, die nameless, no more fame\nAhh, hahahaha\nYo X, come on man, Obie, let's go, haha"},
{"year": null, "title": "Foolish Pride", "album": null, "lyrics": "\"Yo man.. Yo Marsh man, You've been kickin' all this shit about yourself, what about the homies man?\"\n\n\"Ai, you want one about the posse, Aight\" \n\nOh foolish pride, oh, oh, oh, oh foolish pride\nOh, oh, ph, ohh\nFoolish pride, oh, oh, oh, oh foolish pride\n\nWell foolish pride has alot of things to say\nYou got foolish pride, you got tooth decay\nBut tooth decay is another problem\nSo let's take this old foolish pride and solve it\nNow, when I talk about foolish pride\nI mean blacks & whites taking different sides\nWhen blacks and whites take different sides\nUnity never happens, and we will subside\nWe will subside and hatred will release\nAnd everything will just crush that peace\nWell, when we crush that peace, we start hatin' each other\nBut remember, you are my brother, and you are my sister\nJust like I'm a mister\nI seen a black girlfriend and I kissed her\nI kissed her; I placed it on her cheek\nAnd she didn't come back til next week\n\nNow it was next week and she was back again\nWanting to kiss a white kid\nSo she was my girlfriend, we started going out\nBut that's okay because we were Black and white\nBlacks and whites they sometimes mix\nBut Black girls only want your money cause they're dumb chicks\nSo I'ma say like this\nDon't date a Black girl, take it as a diss\nIf you want, but if you don't\nI'ma tell you like this, I surely won't\nNever date a Black girl because Blacks only want your money\nAnd that shit ain't funny\n\nSo I'ma say look honey\nWhy do you do this?\nYou know, you step up to me like you a Brutus\nThen you try to grab my spinach\nBecause its green and that's cash\nSo get outta here, 'cause I don't need your ass\nI said that before, but that's okay because like I said you're a whore\nBlack girls and white girls just don't mix\nBecause Black girls are dumb and white girls are good chicks\nWhite girls are good; I like white girls\nI like white girls all over the world\nWhite girls are fine and they blow my mind\nAnd that's why I'm here now telling you this rhyme\n'Cause Black girls, I really don't like\nWe don't mix, it's like riding a bike\nWhen you're peddling hard, uphill both ways\nYou know it's kinda hard and that's why I say to you\nI'm giving you a little advice\nDon't date a Black girl, if you do it once you won't do it twice\nYou won't ever do it again because they'll take your money\nAnd that ain't funny\nSo I'ma say look honey\nI thought I said that before\nBut like I said again you're nothing but a big whore\nSo when mike catch on the bass line\nThat's okay 'cause we will not just waste time\n\nI'll get straight to the point\nBlack girls are bitches, that's why I'ma tell ya you better pull up your britches\n'Cause all that cash is making your ass drag\nFrom the boyfriend ya ganked and that's pretty bad\nI mean that's pretty sad when ya dating a Black guy\nAnd then you turn around and fuck another big, Black guy\nNow that's pretty wrong, but you're just ganking\nBut that's okay because you need a goddamn spanking\nFrom me, the funky Eminem\nI'm busting rhymes and I'm swallowing phlegm\nI'm busting a freestyle just like this\nI say swallowing phlegm and Howard gets pissed\nBut when Howard gets pissed that's okay\nBecause he leaves and he doesn't show up for two more days\nSo I'll just worry about that problem when I come to it\nI cross that bridge when I come to it\n\nBecause, I forgot the chorus\nBut that's okay 'cause y'all saying bust a rhyme for us\nSo I'ma bust another rhyme about this Black girl\nShe turned out to be a fuckin' wack girl\nA wack girl, because Black girls ain't funny\nAll they want is your godamn money\nThey take you for everything you got\nAnd then you stand with a bunch of snot in your hand\nSo I'ma kick it to you just like this\nHow does the chorus go, I forgot\nBut that's okay, 'cause I'ma tell you in stride\nI'ma say oh foolish pride\n\nOh foolish pride, oh, oh, oh, oh foolish pride\nOh, oh, oh, oh foolish pride, oh, oh, oh, oh foolish pride\nOh, oh, oh, oh foolish pride, oh, oh, oh, oh foolish pride\nOh, oh, oh, oh foolish pride, oh, oh, oh\nDate a white girl, 'cause they got the raw hide..."},
{"year": null, "title": "Fallin", "album": null, "lyrics": "Cause baby I'm lonely\nCan somebody hold me\nIt feel like I'm fallin now, I can't hold my ground\nIt feels like I'm only\nTrying but slowly\nIt feels like I'm fallin now, I can't hold my ground\nNo more\n\n\nProbably one of my realest loves ever, four page letters\nIn time it\u2019s all better, \u2018cause time heal whatever\nI'mma need a moment cause moments last forever\nCars with cream leather, females are on regular\nWhat\u2019s the point in titles, we liking it how they tell us\nI\u2019d rather stay friends with benefits 'til we ready\nNow ready, Sean Don got me feeling heavy\nShe like one more chance, more problems, no Biggie, ah\nIt\u2019s all good, don\u2019t take it the wrong way\nAin\u2019t nothing personal, but who this nigga in your face?\nWe can leave together or you can take your space\nThe night young, we should head over to my place\nHa, now we laughing and all that\nTell your friend they can fall back\nAin\u2019t even gotta ask twice\nShe said what you feeling like?\nI'm like...\n\n\n\n\nJimmy can crack corn but I don't care\nMy enemies crack corn but I don't care\n\nYou can be black white or albino yeah\nYou can have cornrows inside your hair\nI give a fuck if I don't like your stare\nThis bottle of wine goes upside your head\n\nA little bit psycho but I know that\nThink you just don't say it and I won't say it\nSee if you don't brag then I don't brag\nI know I'm bad as long as I know I'm bad\nI don't need ya'll to co-sign no shit\nYou can just keep making them tired old threats\nLittle bit like the boy who cried wolf did\nSee me but don't dare to try no shit\nCuz you know that somewhere inside those layers\nThe rattlesnakes right there to bite your ass\nAnd I can be so quite and strike so fast\nLike lightening bolts right out the sky go blast"},
{"year": null, "title": "Boy Meets Girl", "album": null, "lyrics": "Boy meets girl,\nYou were my dream my world,\nBut I was blind,\nYou cheated on me from behind.\n\n'Cause boy meets girl,\nYou were my dream my world,\nBut I was blind,\nYou cheated on me from behind.\n\n\nNow I know we said things,\nDid things that we didn't mean,\nAnd we fall back into the same patterns,\nSame teams,\nBut your tempers' shit just bad as mine,\nYou're same as me,\nBut when it comes to love you just as blinded.\n\nBaby please come back,\nIt wasn't you,\nMaybe it was me,\nMaybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems,\nMaybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano,\nAll I know is I love you too much,\nTo walk away doe.\n\nCome inside,\nPick up your bags off the sidewalk,\nDon't you hear sincerity in my voice when I talk?,\nTold you \"this is my fault\",\nLook me in the eyeball,\nNext time I'll miss to let my fist hit the dry wall,\nNext time-,\nThere won't be no next time,\nI apologize even though I know it's lies,\nI'm tired of the games,\nI just want it back,\nI know I'm a liar,\nIf she ever tries to fucking leave again,\nIma fucking tie her to the bed...\n\n\n\n\nListen,\nI'm sitting lookin out the window like, \"Damn\",\nTryna fix the situation that's at hand,\nYou're still running through my mind when I'm knowing that you shouldn't be,\nMe, you're gonna be mine when I'm knowing that you couldn't be.\n\nCuz you haven't called,\nI ain't even appalled \nI still got a lot of pain,\nI ain't dealt with it all,\nI've been runnin around with other chicks,\nI'm single and they lovin it,\nI'm likin it but I just want the one that I was in love with.\n\nIt's not the end of it,\nI'm tryna let you go,\nI can't,\nGet a grip of that I'm tryna let you know\n\nYou got hold some kind of control of me,\nI don't know what it is,\nBut I gotta get you goin for me,\n\nI'm working at it,\nIt ain't getting no better,\nI'm just tryna be like,\n\"Yeah, whatever, forget it.\"\nInstead of starin out this glass,\nLookin at this bad weather,\nDamn, I gotta pull myself together,\nCuz.\n\n\n\n\nIt sounds like a conversation,\nIt's a celebration,\nLets toast to the fact I moved out my mamas basement,\nTo a condo downtown,\nCuz it's all about location,\nI sit and drink wine and watch Californication of life,\nYou shoulda been here to kick it with me, \nWe coulda split this whole thing up 50/50,\nBut now I'm at the 40/40 gettin bitches tipsy,\nKillin shit that ever so talented Mr. Riply,\n\nHow did I go from bein a man that you argued with?,\nTo meeting Dwayne Carter and putting alcohol an shit,\nShould wanna go back to the one I started with,\nBut I'm addicted to this life,\nIt's gonna be hard to quit.\n\nYeah, just ask me how things are coming along,\nYou can tell me that you've none of my songs,\nAs long as you say one day you plan to listen,\nCuz what's a star..."},
{"year": null, "title": "Bad Guys Always Die", "album": null, "lyrics": "The Wild.. Gotham\r\nThe Wild.. West \r\nHa ha, ride..\r\n\r\n\r\nAll you see is the sun, reflecting off of the gun\r\nI'm ready for the showdown, that go down at one\r\nSweat on my brow, let's settle it now\r\nI'm gonna show you how real cowboys get down\r\nI'm polishing gold, waiting for this drama to unfold\r\nI got a {blunt} rolled\r\nFeelin bold, gangsters blood runs cold\r\nIt's time to reload this old .45 colt\r\nThe wind's gusty, it's hot, muggy and dusty\r\nBust a couple shots, make sure I'm not rusty\r\nIt's passed noon, he should be here soon\r\nSip a little moonshine inside a saloon\r\nAll of a sudden I can hear the sound of hoofs\r\nSounds like a thousand wolves\r\nI cock back, put the toast in the holster and froze\r\nI pose like a poster, he's closer than close\r\nI hold the heat sturdy, I heard he fight's dirty\r\nbut I'm gonna put thirty inside him and leave early\r\nAnd just when I went to fill him with hot lead\r\nI put the gun to his head, and this is what he said\r\n\r\n\r\nYou never met me, and you'll probably never see me again\r\nbut I know you - the name's Slim - you want revenge?\r\nThen don't shoot, I'm in the same boots as you\r\nI'm telling the truth, I got a price on my head too, cause when you..\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nYou ride like a cowboy toward the sun\r\nAnd life ain't fun, when you're on the run\r\nGot your gold and you got your gun\r\nBut life as an outlaw just begun\r\nGot your shotgun by your side\r\nGot your horse and you got your pride\r\nYou ride til there ain't no place to hide\r\nIt's sad cause the bad guys always die\r\n\r\n\r\nHe was \"Shady,\" I seen by the look on his face\r\nHe said take ten paces {shit} I took eight\r\nSpun around and I aimed straight for the brain\r\nMy {shit} went bang but it only fired a blank, he said\r\n(You need bullets, hurry up run!) \r\nI put a clip in the gun, and pointed at his lungs\r\nWe both drew at the same time and stood stunned\r\n(Go ahead, shoot me, but I'm not the one you want)\r\nI figured he was telling the truth, that's why I didn't shoot\r\nSo what we gonna do, it's on you\r\n(Do you recall when you and Snoop was a group?)\r\nThe Chronic!\r\n(Well all we gotta do is find a map to part two)\r\n(And plus I know who's got it)\r\nWho?\r\n(Some old dude, he's got 26 plaques and he already sold two)\r\nLoaded up my saddle, got ready for battle\r\nHid two pieces of gold inside of my satchel\r\nWe rolled two miles until we hit the spot\r\nAn old ghost town that everybody forgot\r\nA place where they used to smoke chronic a lot\r\nSlim grabbed the shotgun (Dre here's the plot)\r\n\r\n\r\nThis is the spot, they call him Doc Loveless\r\nHe's going around saying he took the game from us\r\n(Let's shoot him in his kneecaps, he'll never see it coming)\r\nBut he ain't got no legs, they cut 'em off at the stomach\r\nHe's got mechanical legs, he spins webs\r\nPlus he's well respected by the hip-hop heads\r\nOur mission - is to get him to stop laying eggs\r\nAnd we can put him on his back down a flight of steps\r\n\r\n\r\nI drew two guns, spun them on my fingers\r\nKicked the swinging doors in, started gun slinging\r\nI could hear somebody singin - it sounded like a \"G Thang,\"\r\nand a verse from \"Keep Their Heads Ringing\"\r\nI said \"It's Dre's Day,\" and started to spray\r\nAgainst 1800, he pulls a AK\r\nHollow tips started flying every which way\r\n\r\n\r\nThat's when I seen Dre in trouble and came with the gauge\r\nI fired the first shot, spun his body around\r\nHe hit the ground and landed upside down\r\nDre grabbed the map, the plaques and the gold\r\nI grabbed two girlies and a {blunt} that's rolled\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nAlways die..\r\nThe Wild.. Gotham\r\nThe Wild.. West \r\nHa ha, ride.."},
{"year": null, "title": "A Drop In The Ocean", "album": null, "lyrics": "A drop in the ocean a change in the weather,\nI was praying that you and me might end up together.\nIt's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,\nBut I'm holding you closer than most'cause you are my heaven.\n\n\nHow you listen to a girl that still wanna man\nTell me the truth is that a man or Juwanna Mann\nI'm wonderin' why she \"ret to go\" like Wanda then\nWhen we met you was a V like Madonna, man\nNow you in the field runnin' plays like Donovan\nMcNabb before you get in a cab\nI'll trade in my cab\nJust to take you back to last summer, man\nYou don't remember when you was my sweetest\nYou don't remember when I called you Reese's Pieces\nCause it's no wrong way to do you know what\nShe turned around and giggle said; \"You so nuts!\"\nBut nowadays we actin' way too grown up\nLike how ya ex girl get the new numba\nThe rumors was so numerous\nFor stickin' by me, I had to give you two thumbs up\nAnd that's why\n\nA drop in the ocean a change in the weather,\nI was praying that you and me might end up together.\nIt's like a drop in the ocean a change in the weather,\nI was praying that you and me might end up together.\n\n\nSo young, so full of life and vibrant,\nSide by side wherever you was ridin', I went,\nSo close almost was some Bonnie and Clyde shit,\nWhen Ronnie died you was right by my side,\nWith a shoulder to cry on and a tissue to wipe my eyes,\nAnd a bucket to catch every tear I cried inside it,\nYou even had the same type of childhood I did,\nSometimes I just wanna know why,\nIs it that you surcame to yours,\nAnd mine I survived it,\nYou ran the streets I nine to fived it,\nWe grew up, grew apart as time went by us,\nThen I blew up to both yours and mine surprises,\nNow I feel the vibe I just cant describe it,\nMuch as your pride tries to hide it,\nYou're cold your touch, its like ice,\nAnd your eyes is the look of resentment,\nI can sense it and I don't like it\n\nA drop in the ocean a change in the weather,\nI was praying that you and me might end up together.\nIt's like a drop in the ocean a change in the weather,\nI was praying that you and me might end up together.\n\n\nUh, stuck alone in this wave race\nSay I'm living too fast, don't plan on changing my pace\nGot one foot on the gas, it's never a need for brakes\nSmoke ez-rider's with hash, fuck bitches from out of state\nValet bringing my cars, waiter bringing me plates\nShrimp and fillet Mignon, we celebrate buying drinks\nWit a couple of broads my nigga's who got love for me\nIt's lonely at the top, I'm tired of having company\nUh, so while you busy trying to fit in, I'm a stand out\nAnd view my life through this lens to see how it pan's out\nSubstitute teacher ass nigga's, need a handout\nMiddle finger screaming fuck them nigga's who hated,\nI'm money affiliated\nPop another bottle, that chronic smokin degraded\nSpeculating me landing must of got me mistaken,\nI'm speaking as the captain of the planes,\nYou's a runner on the jet way\n\nA drop in the ocean a change in the weather,\nI was praying that you and me might end up together.\nIt's like a drop in the ocean a change in the weather,\nI was praying that you and me might end up together."},
{"year": "2014", "title": "Lose Yourself (Original Demo Version)", "album": "\"Shady XV\" (2014)", "lyrics": "Yo, if you could just, for one minute\nOr one split second in time, forget everything\nEverything that bothers you, all your problems\nEverything, and follow me\n\nIf I was frozen inside of a moment\nIf I could capture time inside a capsule\nAn hourglass full of sand in the palm of my hand, it passes through it\nIf I can grasp it, and just control what happens to it\nThen I can trap it, so no more time elapses through it\nIf raps could do it, maybe I could tap into it\nThen I could try to channel it through Cadillacs and Buicks\nTo transmit through 'em, to make you put your ass into it\nAnd that's when you hit the roof because you can't sit through it\nYour passions too much for you to not be dancing to it\nAnd as you do it, your movements become fast and fluent\nYou're mashin' to it, moshing until you're black and bluish\nYou're acting foolish, this music it has influenced you to be rowdy but in an orderly fashion\nTrue it's chaotic, but it's got your body moving as a unit\nUniting together tonight, so make it last and you better just\n\nLose yourself in this music\nThis moment we own it, we won't never let it go (go)\nYou better move yourself cause tomorrow's ass can wait\nThere is no time, to sit there and procrastinate (you better)\nLose yourself in this music\nThis moment we own it, we won't never let it go (go)\nYou better move yourself cause tomorrow's ass can wait\nThere is no time, to sit there and procrastinate (you better)\n\nCause when we descend together, we begin to move as one\nIn perfect unison just like the moon and sun\nIlluminate the room and humans soon become aluminum\nRhythmically in sync, if you'll excuse the pun\nBut if you could lose it once, I mean if you could let shit go\nRelax, take a breath, and just let it exit slow\nTo rest your soul, you could leave the rest to me\nIf I could give the world a hit of ecstasy\nTo make 'em feel the feeling that I'm feeling right this minute\nCause I feel like the night won't end til I get finished\nSo close the shades, makin' sure no light gets in it\nThe sky's the limit tonight because the night's infinite\nA high percentage of black people and white mixed in it\nBut no one really gives a fuck cause they just like what's spinnin'\nHis life was spinnin', the whole entire night just spinnin'\nLike life's beginning, so come out from inside your skin and quit hidin' in it\n\nLose yourself in this music\nThis moment we own it, we won't never let it go (go)\nYou better move yourself cause tomorrow's ass can wait\nThere is no time, to sit there and procrastinate (you better)\nLose yourself in this music\nThis moment we own it, we won't never let it go (go)\nYou better move yourself cause tomorrow's ass can wait\nThere is no time, to sit there and procrastinate (you better)"},
{"year": null, "title": "Twisted", "album": null, "lyrics": "You sit there stone-faced, as if I'm not here\nCan't you see that I've been crying?\nI didn't know you'd be insane\nDreams can be so deceiving\nYou're an itch I can't reach\nA wound that won't heal\nThe smell of skin that's burning\nI didn't know you'd be insane\nBut it's true, and just say all I am to you is a\n\n\nPain in my neck, thorn in my side\nStain on my blade, blood on my knife\nBeen dreaming of her, all of my life\nBut she won't come true, she's just my nightmare I woke up to\n\n\nShe's twisted, he's a rebel, she's sick, he's hard to handle\nThe worst of all is he just don't care\nShe's twisted like a rope, that is wrapped around her throat\nBut the worst part of all is she really don't give a... (shit)\n(She don't give a shit)\n\n\nSometimes I wish that you'd just die\nCause I'm too afraid of leaving\nI didn't know you'd be insane\nDreams can be so deceiving\n(How did it come to this?\nWhy do I fantasize to kill you when you're sleeping?)\nI didn't know you feel the same\nWhen I say you're no good\nAll you are to me\n\n\nIs a pain in my neck, thorn in my side\nStain on my blade, blood on my knife\nBeen dreaming of her, all of my life\nBut she won't come true, she's just my nightmare I woke up to\n\n\n\n\nLove ain't no fairytale, love is a buried nail\nInside of this heart of stone, so you wanna get married?\nWell Romeo, Romeo, smokin' blow with Antonio\nIn the back alley takin' shots of whiskey and only gold\nJuliet's at the nudie bar, doin' God only knows\nNeither one of 'em came to see the dog and the pony show\nBut a bitch is a bitch, and a horse is a horse, ain't it?\nSorry I can't afford to get your daddy's old Porsche painted\nSorry Juliet that you embedded the sayin'\nIf a dollar makes you holler well then I'm gettin' the short change of it\nFeel like I've been asleepin' alone and lovin' this angel\nEntangled between a dream and a coma\nWalkin' the edge of this cliff, like a sheep to it's owner\nThen woke up to this fuckin' bitch with an evil persona\nNow if you say that you hate somebody and you livin' with them\nThen they pack up and leave and then you bitch about how you miss 'em\nYou gotta see the pattern of the blood all over the steerin' wheel\nLove is a cannibal ridin' a carnival carousel\n'Round and 'round we roll, where it stops, baby nobody knows\nSome people go crazy and they lose control\nSome people jump off, some people won't let go\nSome people say love, some people say why\nSome people don't love, they just want a free ride\nThe rain won't stop, it'll never dry\nIf she's in the house of pain then love is standin' outside\n\n\n\nMaybe I'm the twisted one that screwed this up\nSo I guess this means Goodbye, for now"},
{"year": "2014", "title": "Fine Line", "album": "\"Shady XV\" (2014)", "lyrics": "Another day, another hotel, the inside of it's nice though\nOh well, this is my life so\nAs I go and try to close for the night's show\nSee how far that line goes\nStill blows my mind show\nBusiness guess I'll just never get\nSo this shit just always feels so weird\nTo this day because all I ever did\nWas just say the shit I wouldve wanted to hear\nOther people say to me when I was a kid\nSo please don't make me some type of hero\nCause I will say some inspirational shit in a real way\nBut still will have a field day with some of the\nFucked up shit in the world and tell it to suck the dick\nCause I still make fun of a sit.\nSomeone's in like a son of a bitch\nAt another's expense, I'm fuckin' relentless\nAs fuck when it comes to this pen\nI struggle with coming to my senses\nStuck on the fence on a balance beam if I seem unbalanced\nIt's challenging but my conscience allows me to think\nThe most foulish childish things without even blinking\nWithout even thinkin' about, all the stinkin' amounts of people that seem to be reachin' in the crowds\nI'm scream in the palace, sold out this evening\nBut now it's, lay me down to sleeping\nIs it really my soul to keep or\nHave I sold it cheap is it greed\nDo I take more than I need\nWhen I joke about leavin'\nBut keep over achievin'\nBecause what's stolen from me barely broke even\n\nIt's a fine, fine line\nIt's a fine, fine line\n\nSo I notice how I paint myself\nAnd through my hair when ordeals I'm so vain\nI want my respect but ignore the\nButterfly effect that comes from my dialect\nTill I, sit in the dark and I reflect\nAnd my reflection shows what it's like here\nCause this vanity, surrounded by all these lights yeah\nIt's like a nightmare\nI said, this vanity surrounded by these lights is a nightmare\nAnd I don't like how I see myself so I\nOpen the Bible to Isaiah cause\nI swear to Christ there are nights where\nI stay up at night just to say a prayer twice\nJust to make sure God hears cause this ice layer\nIce skate on the nice way\nPuting it but I like staying\nFeistier then a triceritops and like a dice player\nI got a nice pair of dice here\nSealed off in my lair\nAway from the bullshit good safe place to sit and talk shit\nFrom in this house it's quite bare, but it ain't when you can't leave it\nAnd I feel so isolated, nice I made it\nBut it's like I payed the price of fame twice I hate it\nSo I bitch about my life then make another song, it's a cycle ain't it\nThen I wonder why I stay famous\nKeep walkin' the line\nThis gold fish poke gets old\nBut especially when you don't know\nIf your conscience is sayin' I told you so\nYou don't even know anymore if you got the soul of a soldier\nOr if you sold your soul\n\nIt's a fine, fine line\nIt's a fine, fine line\n\nAnd from here you look so small\nHovering high above us all\nPlease come back, to me\n\nI still remember the times when\nThey were, simpler than the rhymes of\nVanilla Ice were, when I was just killin' the mics\nI'll never forget what that feeling was like I,\nMiss those times now when I was just starting out\nWithout a dime and, now I'm diamond\nCan't even stage dive in the crowd anymore now when I've been\nStuck in this house hibernatin'\nHate even going outside it\nSucks, sometimes I just wanna walk in Target and look at shit Browse, I don't even want to buy nothin'\nI just wanna fuckin' walk around inside it\nLook how excited, I sound when I get to talkin' bout life and\nEverything about it I miss\nWhich now reminds me\nPut a thousand lighters in the sky for the Outsidaz\nWow, I must have had Alzheimers\nLong time since I shouted them out, bout time\nCause it's been on my mind lately how\nZee you always supported me\nYou vouched, I will never forget that and\nHow you guys, accepted me for me and Pace\nI love you too, you slept on my couch\nAnd I been thinkin' bout the time I slept on the floor at the outhouse\nRhyming is all we ever wanted to do\nAnd regardless how life has turned out\nInside I'll always be an outsider\nMy life has been turned inside out but I\n\nIt's a fine, fine line\nIt's a fine, fine line"},
{"year": null, "title": "Bane", "album": null, "lyrics": "Uh, I feel no pain\nUh, I've got my mask on\nUh, I'm numb to the world\n\n\nThe devil out to get me, moving pretty fast\nHead on collision, I'm tryna avoid the crash - (Pain)\nI'm running from my past - (Bane)\nThat's why I wear the mask\nThese blood sucking leeches, all they want is the cash\nYou don't get the picture, it could be gone in a flash - (Pain)\nI'm running from my past - (Bane)\nThat's why I wear the mask\n\n\nHope you bought a package of Kleenex (yeah)\nPackage the rejects (yeah)\nActually it\u2019s a fact that we shack in the p-jects\nNaturally a rat pack will attack cheese (huh)\nThat\u2019s why I\u2019m in yellow and green\nMay I tap, trap all these (uh)\nNo I don\u2019t trust these hoes, nigga (uh)\nSay they love you for you then turn into gold digger (Bane)\nWhat the fuck you ask me for a dollar for?\nShooting the gym? I ain\u2019t ballin' ho\nWhat I look like, any baller you know? (Bane)\nYup, shots fired, callin' it kettle\nBlack shit turned the pot higher\nEyes tired\nKeep trying to sell me a smile, but I\u2019m a hard buyer\nKeep shit movin' like a car tire\nWhat you want a necklace\nI\u2019ll make you a chain out some barbed wire\n\n\n\n\nI got his Earth on my shoulders, real life for rappin'\nIf you threw the planet at me I\u2019d headbutt it and crack it\nOn another tax bracket and I been cleanin' my house\nBut my old habits are in the attic, I\u2019ll pull 'em out\nAnd keep reminding y'all you ain\u2019t got it all\nDevil keep pulling me by the drawers\nNot at all amazed at these haters\nYou\u2019ve seen my catalog\nSpeaking and we keep flying over 'em like a cannonball\nThink I\u2019m this comical, swag follower\nJust rhyming over beats\nWhile these leakers suckin' all of us off (hell no)\nStill got your mama covered in vomit in my cellphone\nY'all really got me fucked up\nWhat you mixin' up in that cup?\nWhat the hell you sprinkle in that blunt?\n.44, make him sober up\n\n\nI got an addiction to all these prescriptions\nNeed an intervention, someone to listen\nCatholic or Christian, fuck your suspicions\n(Bitch! Gimme my molly and stop bitchin'!)\nTurn it up (turn it down)\nI be blowing on half a pound\nPass it around and pass it around\nMerry go-round, merry go-round\nShe say she love me, but this bitch is ugly\n(Shit, you ain't even know it)\nI'mma still let her fuck me\n\n\n\n\nThey say the devil is a liar\nNigga don't worry 'bout that loud mouth\nBumping his gums and babbling\nWatch for them quiet niggas\nOn the real, you should come ride with us\nCrew full of riders; Optimus\nMy back, seems like you got your facts all crossed up, no Swastikas\nFadin' in and out of my consciousness\nTryna fight this feeling I\u2019m conjurin'\nThat's why I wear a hat so low with a mask\nReally feelin' like the Lochness\nNo bullshit, these bitches are more grimy\nDoing a nigga real slimey\nHad my little homie stretched out, death untimely\nNeed I remind me? Hold up\nYo, don\u2019t get doped up\nHeard rumors that niggas wanna clap at me\nWell actually, I was just over there\nNiggas ain\u2019t really do jack to me\nThat\u2019s why I keep this mask on, straight face\nOnly thing that\u2019s missing is my  get my Runyon Ave soldiers"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Wicked Ways", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "I'm getting by with my wicked ways\nI'm loading up and I'm taking names\nI wanna dig my way to hell\nI wanna dig my way to hell\n\n\nGuess I got a way with words, I could get away with murder\nEver heard of Aspergers'? It's a rare condition\nIt's what you're suffering from\nWhen you simply don't care if it's an\n80 degree day and there's no fricken air conditioning\nAnd you can't see the bitch\u2019s hair is frizzing\nCause you got the windows up\nBlaring the system in your Chevrolet Prizm\nThe devil ain't on a level same as him\nPicture someone who revels in straight masochism\nAnd imagine him giving an adjective an ass whooping\nSo bad they should put his ass in prison\nA word bully, I verbally abuse verbs\nLike they did something to me personally\nUsed to get bullied, so I'd cut class and ditch it\nNow I bully rap, I'm the shit, faggot (sniff it)\nCadillac from a K Car\nMy ass from a hole in the ground, still can\u2019t tell em a-part\nCame straight out the trailer park screaming I'm proud\nTo shop at K-Mart and it became art\nAnd I'm still fed up and as pissed off as they are\nTo this day I, still get in fights with the same broad\nAt the same Walmart arguing over the same cart\nIn the middle of the aisle whilin'\nI don't give a fuck I don't play!\nBitch you think you saw this basket first?\nYou're ass backwards like motherfucking Bob and Silent Jay\nIllest shit you could think I would say\nMind's like a pile of clay\nWhen's the last time that you saw a villain with a cape\nRipped a gaping hole in it\nFlipped out, ripped down the drapes\nTied 'em around my neck\nWent down the fire escape of the Empire State\nSlipped, fell straight down to the ground\nSplattered all over the entire state\nAnd straight to hell, got impaled by the gates\nSaw Satan, stuck his face in an ashtray\nWhile I sashayed around flames with a match and I gave him the gas face\nAnd this ain't got nothing to do with a scale or being gay little faggot\nBut by the way, thoughts are getting darker by the day\nI'm a combination of Skylar Grey, Tyler the Creator, and Violent J\nIt's a fuckin' miracle to be this lyrical\nPaint my face with clown makeup and a smiley face I'm insane\nEvery rhyme I say, sons you like an ultra violet ray\nI\u2019m selling hatred buffet style, all the shit you can eat\n$11.99 so come on and pile a plate\nI\u2019m throwin' down the gauntlet to see what hell I can raise\nWith the rhyme I\u2019m spittin' while I\u2019m shittin' on competition\nIn the meantime it\u2019s always mean time\n\n\n\n\nI\u2019ve been a career asshole\nI don\u2019t see why these people always got my back\nI done said so much fucked up shit, I was born a mistake\nBut I was put here not by accident\nI had a purpose and that purpose was to beat a beat purplish\nSlaughter tracks, I done put my two dimes and a nickel in this shit\nI\u2019m coming to get that quarter back\nLike Ndamukong, the drama can build\nYour mama can ask me for my autograph\nCause that cougar's a MILF, she's the oldest trick in the book\nBut I sure would fall for that\nYou done brought a bat to a rocket launcher fight\nWhen I get on the mic I'mma snap\nMake you wish the ambulance that took me to the hospital\nWhen I overdosed woulda caught a flat\nIf it makes you sick to your stomach acid\nIndigestion, my suggestion\u2019s Kaopectate\nIf it feels like I'm running away with the game\nIt's cause I am, don't speculate, spectate\nAll I got is dick for days and insults for decades\nBut I get by with my wicked ways\nLady you can suck a dick til your neck aches\nCry til you get puffy eyes, red faced\nBut I'm leaving on this jet plane\nYou ain't fly, you're an airhead\nAnd I'm sick of pounding a square peg in a round hole, sorry another catchphrase\nBut your baggage ain't gonna fit in my storage overhead space\nCause it just ain't big enough to fit your damaged goods\nOther words don't try to put your heart in a headcase\nCause baby, stable mentally I ain't\nI need my meds, I peed my bed\nI'm going blind, I don't see my legs\nI keep on falling down, no wonder you can't stand me, I need my cane\nSomeone help me, I think my face is melting\nIf you felt these migraines and see these maggots eat my brain\nThis G-I-A-N-T hole in my empty head\nIf you read my mind, you can see my pain\nAnd you'd see why I be this way\nEver since I was knee high playin' with G.I. Joes\nTold these hoes shut their P-I-E holes, now peep my game\nCause I'm 'bout it 'bout it\nLike a (like a) fucking (fucking)\nEcho (echo)... (Psych) Psycho on a cyclone cycle\nSpiraling, here I go, I`m outta control like no\nOther mic go, stab you til' the knife goes - dull\nI'm nothing but a hole inside your skull where your eye goes\nCoz I'mma sock it to you\nDyke ho, you don't like it\nGet on your Harley Davidson menstrual cycle\nAnd ride it like a motorbike\nI'm finna blow the mic the whole night so\nStrike up the fucking maestro, I'm nitro\nAnd hi ho, hand me my shovel, I'm liable to dig my hole\nDeeper, and it's off to H.E double hockey sticks I go\n\n\n\n\nOhh please be empty, please be empty, please be empty\nThank you, God\n\nShit...\n\nIs that a girl?\n\nI'm gonna rock this blouse and put a cock in my mouth\nAnd get my balls blew out, and get gay into the A.M\nAnd lay with 18 guys naked and let myself show, let myself show\n- Why do I know that voice?\nButtfuck it, suck it, pull it, tug it\nLife's too short to not stroke your bone\n- Are you fucking serious?\nSo everybody, everybody\nCircle jerk, touch my body\n\nWho is that? Where are you going? Come back\nWhy does everyone always leave me?\nHello? Fuck you then\n\nBlow it out your ass"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Bad Guy", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "It\u2019s like I'm in this dirt, digging up old hurt\nTried everything to get my mind off you, it won\u2019t work\nAll it takes is one song on the radio you\u2019re right back on it\nReminding me all over again how you fucking just brushed me off\nAnd left me so burnt, spent a lot of time trying to soul search\nMaybe I needed to grow up a little first\nWell, looks like I hit a growth spurt\nBut I am coming for closure\nDon\u2019t suppose an explanation I\u2019m owed for\nThe way that you turned your back on me\nJust when I may have needed you most\nOh, you thought it was over\nYou could just close the chapter\nAnd go about your life, like it was nothing\nYou ruined mine, but you seem to be doing fine\nWell, I\u2019ve never recovered but tonight I betcha that whatcha\n'bout to go through\u2019s tougher than anything I ever have suffered\nCan\u2019t think of a better way to define poetic justice\nCan I hold grudges, mind saying: \"let it go, fuck this\"\nHeart's saying: \"I will once I bury this bitch alive\nHide the shovel and then drive off in the sunset\"\n\n\nI flee the scene like it was my last ride\nYou see right through\nOh, you had me pegged the first time\nYou can see the truth\nBut it's easier to justify\nWhat's bad is good\nAnd I hate to be the bad guy\nI just hate to be the bad guy\n\n\nAnd to think I used to think you was the shit, bitch\nTo think it was you at one time I worshipped, shit\nThink you can hurt people and just keep getting away with it?\nNot this time, you better go and get the sewing kit, bitch\nFinish this stitch so you can reap what you sew (sic), knit wit\nThought some time had past and I'd forget it, forget it!\nYou left our family in shambles\nYou expect me to just get over him? Pretend he never existed\nMay be gone, but he's not forgotten\nAnd don't think cause he's been out the picture so long\nThat I've stopped the plottin' and still ain't coming to get ya\nYou're wrong and that shit was rotten\nAnd the way you played him, same shit you did to me, cold\nHave you any idea the shit that I've gone through?\nFeelings I harbor, all this pent-up resentment I hold on to\nNot once you call to ask me how I'm doing\nLetters, you don't respond to 'em\nFuck it, I'm coming to see you\nAnd gee who better to talk to than you?\nThe cause of my problems\nMy life is garbage and I'm 'bout to take it out on you\nPoof, then I'm gone, voosh\nAnd...\n\n\n\n\nI've been driving around your side of this town\nLike 9 frickin' hours and 45 minutes now\nFinally I found your new address, park in your drive\nFeel like I been waiting on this moment all of my life\nAnd it's now arrived, and my mouth is fulla' saliva\nMy knife is out and I'm ducking on the side of your house\nSee, it's sad it came to this point\nSuch a disappointment I had to make this appointment to come and see ya\nBut I ain't here for ya empathy, I don't need your apology\nOr your friendship or sympathy, it's revenge that I seek\nSo I sneak vengefully and treat your bedroom window\nLike I reach my full potential\u2013I peeked\nContinue to peep, still bent low\nKeep tapping the glass lightly then start to crescendo\nSneak all the way 'round to the back porch\nMan, door handles unlocked, shouldn't be that easy to do this\nYou don't plan for intruders beforehand?\nSurprised to see me? Cat got your tongue?\nGag, chloroform rag, dag almost hack-up a lung\nLike you picked an axe up and swung\nStick to the core plan, dragged to the back of a trunk\nBy one of your fans, irony's spectacular, huh?\nNow who's a faggot, you punk?\nAnd here's your Bronco hat, you can have that shit back 'cause they suck\nIt's just me, you and the music now, Slim\nI hope you hear it we're in a car right now\nWait, here comes my favorite lyric\nI'm the bad guy who makes fun of people that die\nAnd hey, here's a sequel to my Mathers LP\nJust to try to get people to buy\nWell how's this for publicity stunt? This should be fun\nLast album now cause after this you'll be officially done\nEminem killed by M and M\nMatthew Mitchell, bitch, I even have your initials\nI initially was gonna bury you next to my brother, but fuck it\nSince you're in love with your city so much\nI figured, what the fuck the best place you could be buried alive is right here\nTwo more exits, time is quite near\nI hope we don't get stopped, no license I fear\nThat sirens I hear? Guess 90 on the freeway wasn't the brightest idea\nAs cops appear in my driver's side mirror\n(Oh God, police!! Ah!!)\nHope foxtrot gets an aerial shot of your burial plot at least\nNew plan Stan\nSlim, \"chauvinist pig drove in this big, Lincoln town car!\"\nWell gotta go, almost at the bridge, haha big bro it's for you\nSlim, this is for him and Frank Ocean, hope you can swim good!\nNow say you hate homos again!\n\n\nI also represent anyone on the receiving end of those jokes you offend\nI'm the nightmare you fell asleep in and woke up still in\nI'm your karma closing in with each stroke of a pen\nPerfect time to have some remorse to show for your sin\nNope, it's hopeless, I'm the denial that you're hopelessly in\nWhen they say all of this is approaching its end\nBut you refuse to believe that it's over, here we go all over again\nBack's to the wall, I\u2019m stacking up all them odds, toilet's clogged\nYeah \u2018cause I\u2019m talking a lotta shit but I\u2019m backing it all up\nBut in my head there\u2019s a voice in the back and it hollers\nAfter the track is demolished\n\"I am your lack of a conscience\"\nI\u2019m the ringing in your ears\nI\u2019m the polyps on the back of your tonsils\nEating your vocal chords after your concerts\nI\u2019m your time that\u2019s almost up that you haven\u2019t acknowledged\nGrab for some water but I\u2019m that pill that\u2019s too jagged to swallow\nI\u2019m the bullies you hate that you became\nWith every faggot you slaughtered\nComing back on you every woman you insult, batter\nbut the double-standards you have when it comes to your daughters\nI represent everything you take for granted\n\u2018Cause Marshall Mathers the rapper\u2019s persona\u2019s half a fa\u00e7ade and\nMatthew and Stan just symbolic of you not knowing what you had 'til it\u2019s gone\n\u2018Cause after all the glitz and the glam no more fans that are calling your name\nCameras are off, sad but it happens to all of them,\nI'm the hindsight to say, \u201cI told you so!\u201d\nForeshadows of all the things that are to follow\nI'm the future that's here to show you what happens tomorrow\nIf you don\u2019t stop after they call you\nBiggest laughing stock of rap who can\u2019t call it quits\nWhen it\u2019s time to walk away\nI\u2019m every guilt trip the baggage you have\nBut as you gather up all your possessions\nIf there's anything you have left to say\nUnless it makes an impact then don't bother\nSo before you rest your case\nBetter make sure you're packing a wallop\nSo one last time, I\u2019m back\nBefore it fades into black and it\u2019s all over\nBehold the final chapter in the saga\nTrying to recapture that lightning trapped in a bottle\nTwice, the magic that started it all\nTragic portrait of an artist tortured\nTrapped in his own drawings\nTap into thoughts\nBlacker and darker than anything imaginable\nHere goes a wild stab in the dark\nAs we pick up where the last Mathers\u2019 left off"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "Going Crazy", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "Fame, fame, fame\nI think it's got me goin' crazy\nOhhhohhh\nI get lost in this game, game, game\nI'm gettin' tired of all you naysayers\nOhhhohhh\nKeep speaking my name, name, name\nYou gon' have reason to hate me\nYeahhhheahhh\nIt's like. you. don't. want. me to win\nSo. this. time. I'm goin' in!\n\n\nThis the life of a rocker\njagermeister and vodka\nHoppin' off of the club's balcony\nInto the crowd, surfin'\nAnd when they drop me, I'm randomly sockin' fans\nAnd when my interviews in hockey masks,\nSlap the journalists on their ass\nI'm high off speed,\nDrivin' my car at high speed\nPocket full of weed, while lesbians follow me\nI'm in the studio, envy\nMy h & m, gon' call for me\nCause I fell asleep on the soundboard, ain't get us off a week\nSo let's Bang!! all up in my head\nGet 'em back ungrateful dead\nBustin' in the air, with 30 bitches up in my bed\nI'm kickin' 'em out naked, and this the sympathy\nJust ask me why I did it, well fuck it I can't remember\n\n\nFame, fame, fame\nI think it's got me goin' crazy\nOhhhohhh\nI get lost in this game, game, game\nI'm gettin' tired of all you naysayers\nOhhhohhh\nKeep speaking my name, name, name\nYou gon' have reason to hate me\nYeahhhheahhh\nIt's like. you. don't. want. me to win\nSo. this. time. I'm goin' in!\n\n\nSome boys are wallin\nDrinkin', cussin', and hyper smilin'\nBeen ridin' for days, tour bus look like ryker's island\nHand me jack daniel's, spray paintin' the die hard fan\nLittle cocker spaniel, fresh out of the damn zoo\nMan you, better be conscious, I'm backstage\nLivin' it up, with a couple of sluts feelin' nautious\nWe're drinkin' it's been a couple of days, since I've slept\nMy dick is sore from fuckin', when I bust there's nothin' left\nJust dust, back on the stage, give me my microphone\nStrappin' with the audience as we perform hypersong\nOur label presented us with a plaque\nBrought it on stage, and bashed it to pieces with an aluminum bats, stanks\nNow which one of you bitches down for the cause\nYeah I said my dick is sore but I ain't say shit about my balls\nLast call then we off to the next city, yeah\nWhatever I didn't drink on my bladder pack it up and take the rest with me\n\n\nFame, fame, fame\nI think it's got me goin' crazy\nOhhhohhh\nI get lost in this game, game, game\nI'm gettin' tired of all you naysayers\nOhhhohhh\nKeep speaking my name, name, name\nYou gon' have reason to hate me\nYeahhhheahhh\nIt's like. you. don't. want. me to win\nSo. this. time. I'm goin' in!\n\n\nYeah this game has got me goin' crazy\nFuck it, I am crazy\nWhat's new, what kinda fuckin' glue you'd think I'd be if I was glue\nWe lost proof, he was our crew's glue\nBut where was you, when we were fallin' apart\nYou were shittin on us too\nBut no one but us knew we were beefin'\nCause that's what happens when you beef with crew\nIt stays in the crew, cause it's just crew\nBut we're back now, yeah we took our time while our blood grew\nOnly thing we're in a hurry for now is to rush you!\nAnd we're back, these days if you don't got the guts or the nuts to\nPussy, go pick your pussy leaves off your cunt tree, fuck you\nAhh choo!\nBless you! I'm allergic to pussy, sluts too\nYeah, you think you the shit, till we flush you\nHave some bullshit to readjust\nStill got a just a few of us left, but it'd be unjust to rob us our just due\nSo rest in peace to Bugz and proof\nThis one's for you homies, we love you\nBut we can't stop now we done had too much of our blood drew from this...\n\n\nFame, fame, fame\nI think it's got me goin' crazy\nOhhhohhh\nI get lost in this game, game, game\nI'm gettin' tired of all you naysayers\nOhhhohhh\nKeep speaking my name, name, name\nYou gon' have reason to hate me\nYeahhhheahhh\nIt's like. you. don't. want. me to win\nSo. this. time. I'm goin' in!"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "Things Get Worse", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "There's no need to say shit you already know\nThe question is just how far will this go\nHow far will he take it?\nAnd when will he stop?\nShady man I done told you once homie to easy up\nBut you just won't listen will ya, nah I guess not\nYou just can't can ya, man I can't stand ya\nYou're rotten, what you plottin' for us?\nMan when are you gonna let up\nI guess things are gonna get much worse 'fore they get better\n\nHoly toledo it's Angelina Jolie amigo\nShe told me yo Shady just hand your penis to me I'll deep throat\nAnd Brad if you try to stand between us then we're gonna see bro\nWho was a fantasy I don't mean to damage your ego\nYou faggots wanna rassle I shove a fucking jar of vaseline up inside your asshole\nAnd rope it shut with a lasso\nCouple of crushed lexapro broken up wit the capsule or paxil\nJust incase I ain't dope enough wit the raps though\nCoke is cut with tobacco\nSmoke it up then go wacko\nThis is what happens when you mix a cocunut with tabasco\nShady let go, the hoe has been choked up enough\nLet her ass go\nNot till Jessica Simpson lets go of the tuna casserole\nI used to love her hooters now Carmen Elektra cuter\nStrap an extension cord to her arm and electrocute her\nI'm off my fucking meds but I'm on an electric scooter\nI might just scoot by and shoot my mum in the neck with rugers\nSpit in Jasons face while I vomit on Freddy Krugar\nThey can't even get Jeffrey Dahmer to pet the cougar\nNow I'm gone get the rectal thermometer, get the lubra-\ncation and get the patient some Darvocet to chew cuz\n\n\nThere's no need to say shit you already know\nThe question is just how far will this go\nHow far will he take it?\nAnd when will he stop?\n\n\nB.o.B I done told you once homie to easy up, geez\nThere's no need to say shit you already know\nThe question is just how far will this go\nCause I will never lay down?\nAnd I will never let up?\n(I guess things are gonna get much worse 'fore they get better)\n\n\nWith the soul of a Sharman\nI leave the beat than vomit\nLike a bullemic woman with an uneasy stomach\nI pass by people on the street they seem like sheep and zombies\nStiffer than a therapeutic pair of jeans you run in\nSo can you hear me coming\nEminem this beat is absolutely disgusting\nIt's probably go diseases on it\nI'm just being honest, I can see the comments\nI can see the evolution as we creep up on it\nI put that music in your veins like a needle junkie\nShit I just do this for the haters, I don't need the money\nI diarrhea on track so it needs plunging\nSomebody tell these girls please release my undies\nNobody really understands my language\nI find it complicated just to hold a conversation\nBut still I got a whole lot of patience\nSittin' back watching Earth from my Space station\n\n\nThere's no need to say shit you already know\nThe question is just how far will this go\nHow far will he take it?\nAnd when will he stop?\nShady man I done told you once homie to easy up\nBut you just won't listen will ya, nah I guess not\nYou just can't can ya, man I can't stand ya\nYou're rotten, what you plottin' for us?\nMan when are you gonna let up\nI guess things are gonna get much worse 'fore they get better\n\n\nOh my gosh I put Natasha Bendingfield in a washer\nWatch it go from rinse to spin cycle\nIts like I got ya hypnotising like I gotcha\nI gotcha pychologically fucked\nMichael would like an apology what\nTell that psycho to stick a Tyco truck and a white tricycle up his butt\nAnd glue the seat of bicycle to his nuts\nI'm as cold as a muthafucking icicle on my nut\nI aint nuttin' nice, man I like to pull knives and I like to cut\nThe poster addict for post tramatic stress\nI guess this is the most dramatic I've been in a while\nThis is the closest that its come to the Marshall Mathers\nI can hear him start to gather\nI don't paint the portrait of the picture perfect Partridge family\nThis ain't your orphan Annie, no this is more uncanny\nKick down Dakota Fannings front door while the whore is tanning\n(He can't say whore)\nOf course he can, man he just saw her fanny then murdered her while he danced around the room and wore her panties\n\n\nThere's no need to say shit you already know\nThe question is just how far will this go\nHow far will he take it?\nAnd when will he stop?\nShady man I done told you once homie to easy up\nBut you just won't listen will ya, nah I guess not\nYou just can't can ya, man I can't stand ya\nYou're rotten, what you plottin' for us?\nMan when are you gonna let up\nI guess things are gonna get much worse 'fore they get better"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "Emulate", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "Obie the person that came up introverted\nCause of nervousness that was solely the only verdict\nIt was worth it cause he changed became so observant\nServing such of a purpose\nIf you knew him earlier in his days its like a different version\nSo much hurtin' and pain gave him game for certain\nThat's why there's curtains in this murder if you gettin' worked up\nI'm so assertive on these motherfuckers actin' tougher\nI had enough of isolating myself in a room\nWriting poems and songs, doin' the same in school\nNow look what he became, a fool?\nCause he learned how to sustain his tool and obtain fame from you\nLiving hard but still Juliard a god walks in but ain't spend a day in the pew\nRegardless of this I draw visual pictures when a nigga vents\nSo welcome to the art department\n\n\nI stimulate the brain, mimic, emulate the sane\nCinic keep em' thinking its a fucking gimmick when it ain't\nClinically insane, brain is on Venus suck Uranus\nLabel me a genius if you ever seen us you would say\nHe may seem as though he's plain normal\nIf you ever meet him, greet him with a shake, see\nHe ain't as mean as what they say\nSee the thing is maybe he can't always think of things to say\nSo he's vague, so they mistake him for just bein' crazed\nYou part ways, your impression of him changed\nYou don't think he's strange, you turn around and tell him \"peace and thanks\"\nThen you catch him flipping you off, with his pants down\nHands around his scrotum, tucking his fucking penis between his legs\n\n\nObie the person that came up introverted\nCause of nervousness that was solely the only verdict\nIt was worth it cause he changed became so observant\nServing such of a purpose\nIf you knew him earlier in his days its like a different version\nSo much hurtin' and pain gave him game for certain\nThat's why there's curtains in this murder if you gettin' worked up\nI'm so assertive on these motherfuckers actin' tougher\nI had enough of isolating myself in a room\nWriting poems and songs, doin' the same in school\nNow look what he became, a fool?\nCause he learned how to sustain his tool and obtain fame from you\nLiving hard but still Juliard a god walks in but ain't spend a day in the pew\nRegardless of this I draw visual pictures when a nigga vents\nSo welcome to the art department\n\n\nIts all psychologic, why am I so maniacal,\nAm I psycho or some kind of psychotic stick,\nOr am I truly psychotic, or my molecules just diabolical,\nCause biologically I defy logic, bye golly hall me off  on a trolly, probably wanna cracker, I'm back on the wacky tobacco,\nI'm a step away from crack Obie smack the shit outta me,\nI'm so slap happy man, snap me back to reality,\nIma walking art gallery, a science museum,\nElephantiasis of the nuts you probably die if you see em,\nI pull em out they hit the ground and probably crack the cement,\nI need an ambulance I cant just put em back in my pants"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "Session One", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "Ladies and gentlemen, make some noooooise!\nAww shit, yeah\nY'all ready to get this shit started or what?\nAight, well I brought some friends with me too\n\nNow I ain't back just for the sake of just sayin I'm back\nI could relax but I'd rather stack ammo on tracks\nCouple Xanax, light a couple wax candles then black\nout and relapse 'til I yack Jack Daniels and 'gnac\nBurp bubbles, attitude's immaturin\nDouble shot of Bacardi, party, vision is blurrin\nWhoa-oh, I can't see shit, my words get to slurrin\nUh-oh! You can call me R. Kelly now, you're in trouble!\nWhat's occurin befo', after and durin the show\nhas no bearing on the bad news I'm baring, whoa\nWhat is it, wordplay? No I'm pushin you out the do'\nSo suck my dick on the couch if you wanna cushion the blow\nNow stomp your fuckin feet 'til you get to squishin a hoe\nIt's pandemo-nium standin know when you see him, oh\nDamn baby you look good, you're givin me wood\nYou should, pull over like a sweat-shirt with a hood\nIt's neck work, get her polly on, you and me both\nBreak bread while I'm coppin over this game to pinch a loaf\nNow homie who's your favorite pain in the ass?\nWho claims to be spittin the same flames as me? I'm Kanye when he crashed\nIn other words I got the hood on smash like I stepped on the gas\nDestroyed the front end, deployed the damn airbags from the dash\nWent through 'em and laughed\nCame back an hour after the accident and bit a goddamn Jawbreaker in half!\nSo stop fakin the funk and start shakin your ass\nSlaughterhouse in the house with the caucasian of rap\nand Just Blaze on the track, what's the fuck's more amazin than that?\nSlut, answer me that, Royce where you at?\n\n\nI'm right here Fire Marshall, verbal pair of pliers I pry apart you\nLump on your head designed by a bar stool\nDesigned by a cartoon\nBefore I need to be hired, Jimmy Io' fire Marshall\nThe 9 tucked against the linin\nI pull it out and flip your partner upside-down like y'all are a couple 69'in\nIt's like Rick James is shootin up your house nigga!\n FUCK YO' COUCH NIGGA!\nYou're screamin fuck the world with your middle finger up\nWhile I'm over here shovin my dick in a hole in the mud\nMy bitch, know I'm perfectly fit, for murder\nbecause I murdered her, so you can call me Nickel to O.J. to Glove\nI got a Posse of Insane Clowns\nBlow your brains on your opposite ear, and ask you how your brain sounds\nBad, Evil, we go Alfred, immune in mad cerebral\nYou on your last burrito!\n(What that mean Nickel?) It's a wrap if you eatin\nGet a beat then terrorize that bitch like I'm Middle Eastern\nSlaughterhouse on FIRE, nobody touchin that\nGood day and good night, Ortiz yo where the FUCK you at?\n\n\nI'm right here in my Nike Airs, Buzz Light-years\nahead of my mic peers, quite scary to look at a nightmare\nWhere my book at? I write fear in the heart of you tight squares\nI harbor the art, of you nice swear {?}\nIt's type weird cause that made me hotter than my dear\nUncle Al's breath after polishin off his ninth beer\nHomie chill, listen, I swear\nI'm God, I give tracks a Holy-feel, and they bite ears\nI'm right here, why wouldn't I be?\nJust waitin to be hooked to IV as {?} as well when you look at my pee\nAnd this joint, no exception, so just point a direction\nAnd record the pig's oink, when I rip his intestine\nThis isn't just an infection\nThis won't go away with penicillin injections\nMillions of questions arose after they did an inspection, what I exhibit\nseems to be non-contagious yet anybody can get it\nAw shiddit, I did it again, when I liddift this pen\nI emitted this phlegm, this time it's alongside Emiddinem\nSo tell a friend to tell a friend write a disgustin hook\nJump in shark water and swim, yo where the fuck is Crook?\n\n\nI'm right here lettin the shottie pop, quick as a karate chop\nGet your body shot, get your top chopped, like a lollipop\nCall it Maserati drop, in the body shop\nGet your mommy knocked, and your Uncle Tommy molli-wopped\nI take your life to the ninth inning\nA knife in the gunfight, I love it, me and my knife winnin\nI laugh when you fall, the shit'll be funny\nI'll buy my bitch a new ass and watch her sit on my money\nMan, all the bitches holla - they wanna drop my britches\nthen jaw on my dick and swallow, leave drawers in this Impala\nI ball like Iguodala, I bear more arms than six koalas\nAs soon as I draw, get sent to Allah\nBilinguist don, I kill with the tongue, I'm Atilla the Hun\nI'm Genghis Khan, I'm a genius spawn\nI pillage your village for fun, an egregious con\nA syllable gun, real as they come, Long Beach Saddam!\nSlaughterhouse equals swine flu, are South flyin\nWe do it to try to do without tryin\n(Slaughterhouse!) Cause to it's us it's so easy\nWhere's, Jumpoff Joe Beezy?"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "No Love", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "Love.\nDon't hurt me.\nDon't hurt me\nNo more.\nYoung Money...\nNo more.\nLove.\n\n\nThrow dirt on me and grow a wildflower\nBut it's \"fuck the world\", get a child out her\nYeah, my life a bitch, but you know nothing about her\nBeen to hell and back, I can show you vouchers\nI'm rolling Sweets, I'm smoking sour\nMarried to the game but she broke her vows\nThat's why my bars are full of broken bottles\nAnd my night stands are full of open Bibles, uh.\nI think about more than I forget\nBut I don't go around fire expecting not to sweat\nAnd these niggas know I lay them down, make them beg\nBitches try to kick me while I'm down: I'll break your leg\nMoney outweighing problems on a triple beam\nI'm sticking to the script, you niggas skipping scenes, uh.\nBe good or be good at it\nFucking right I've got my gun, semi-Cartermatic\nYeah, put a dick in their mouth, so I guess it's \"fuck what they say\"\nI'm high as a bitch: up, up and away\nMan, I'll come down in a couple of days\nOK, you want me up in a cage, then I'll come out in beast mode\nI got this world stuck in the safe, combination is the G-code\nIt's Weezy motherfucker, blood gang and I'm in bleed mode\nAll about my dough but I don't even check the peep-hole\nSo you can keep knocking but won't knock me down\nNo love lost, no love found\n\n\nIt's a little too late to say that you're sorry now\nYou kicked me when I was down\nBut what you say just (don't hurt me)\nThat's right bitch (don't hurt me)\nAnd I don't need you (no more)\nDon't want to see you (no more)\nHa, bitch you get (no love)\nYou showed me nothing but hate\nYou ran me into the ground\nBut what comes around goes around (yeah, yeah)\nI don't need you (don't hurt me)\nThat's right (you don't hurt me)\nAnd I don't need you (no more)\nDon't want to see you,\nHa, bitch you get (no love, no, no love, no, no love, no, no love)\nHa, bitch you get (no love, no, no love, no, no love)\nAnd I don't need you (no more)\nGet em\n\n\nI'm alive again\nMore alive than I have been in my whole entire life\nI can see these people's ears perk up as I begin\nTo spaz with the pen, I'm a little bit sicker than most\nShit's finna get thick again\nThey say the competition is stiff\nBut I get a hard dick from this shit, now stick it in\nI ain't never giving in again\nCaution to the wind, complete freedom\nLook at these rappers, how I treat them\nSo why the fuck would I join 'em when I beat 'em\nThey call me a freak 'cause\nI like to spit on these pussies 'fore I eat them\nMan get these whack cocksuckers off stage\nWhere the fuck is Kanye when you need him?\nSnatch the mic from him, bitch I'mma let you finish in a minute\nYeah that rap was tight\nBut I'm 'bout to spit the greatest verse of all time\nSo you might wanna go back to the lab tonight and um\nScribble out them rhymes you were gonna spit\nAnd start over from scratch and write new ones\nBut I'm afraid that it ain't gonna make no difference\nWhen I rip this stage and tear it in half tonight\nIt's an adrenaline rush to feel the bass thump\nFrom the place all the way to the parking lot, fellow\nSet fire to the mic and ignite the crowd\nYou can see the sparks from hot metal\nCold-hearted from the day I Bogarted the game\nI so started to rock fellow\nWhen I'm not even in my harshest\nYou can still get roasted 'cause Marsh is not mellow\nTil I'm toppling from the top I'm not going to stop\nI'm standing on my Monopoly board\nThat means I'm on top of my game and it don't stop\nTil my hip don't hop anymore (shit)\nWhen you're so good that you can't say it\n'Cause it ain't even cool for you to sound cocky anymore (shit)\nPeople just get sick cause you spit\nThese fools can't drool or dribble a drop anymore\nAnd you can never break my stride\nYou never slow the momentum at any moment I'm about to blow\nYou'll never take my pride\nKilling the flow, slow venom and the opponent\nIs getting no mercy, mark my words\nAin't letting up, relentless\nI smell blood, I don't give a fuck: keep giving them hell\nWhere was you when I fell and needed help up?\nYou get no love\n\n\nIt's a little too late to say that you're sorry now\nYou kicked me when I was down\nBut what you say just (don't hurt me)\nThat's right bitch (don't hurt me)\nAnd I don't need you (no more)\nDon't want to see you (no more)\nHa, bitch you get (no love)\nYou showed me nothing but hate\nYou ran me into the ground\nBut what comes around goes around (around)\nI don't need you (don't hurt me)\nThat's right (you don't hurt me)\nAnd I don't need you (no more)\nDon't want to see you,\nHa, bitch you get (no love, no, no love, no, no love, no, no love)\nHa, bitch you get (no love, no, no love, no, no love)\nAnd I don't need you (no more)\nBitch, you get (no love)"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Crack A Bottle", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Ooww ladies and gentlemen\nThe moment you've all been waiting for..\nIn this corner: weighing 175 pounds,\nWith a record of 17 rapes, 400 assaults, and 4 murders,\nThe undisputed, most diabolical villain in the world:\nSlim Shady!\n\n\nSo crack a bottle, let your body waddle\nDon't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto\nO-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe\nGot one riding shotgun and no not one of 'em got clothes\nNow where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?\nI notice there's so many of 'em\nAnd there's really not that many of us.\nand ladies love us and my posse's kicking up dust.\nIt's on till the break of dawn\nAnd we're starting this party from dusk\n\nOK... let's go\n\nBack wit Andre, the giant, mister elephant tusk\nFix your musk, you'll just be another one bit the dust\nJust one of my mothers son who got thrown under the bus\nKiss my butt. Lick the fumunda cheese from under my nuts\nIt disgusts me to see the game the way that it looks\nIt's a must I redeem my name 'n' haters get mushed.\nBitches lust. Man, they love me when I lay in the cut.\nFist the cup. The lady gave her eighty some paper cut.\nNow picture us. it's ridiculous you curse at the thought\n'Cause when I spit the verse the shit\nGets worse then Worcestershire sauce\nIf I could fit the words as picture perfect, works every time\nEvery verse, every line, as simple as nursery rhymes\nIt's elementary. The elephants have entered the room.\nI venture to say we're the center of attention it's true\nNot to mention back with a vengeance so here's the signal\nOf the bat symbol. The platinum trio's back on you hoes.\n\n\nSo crack a bottle, let your body waddle\nDon't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto\nO-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe\nGot one riding shotgun and no not one of 'em got clothes\nNow where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?\nI notice there's so many of 'em\nAnd there's really not that many of us.\nand ladies love us and my posse's kicking up dust.\nIt's on till the break of dawn\nAnd we're starting this party from dusk\n\nLadies and gentlemen, Dr. Dre\n\n\nThey see that low rider go by, they're, like, \"Oh, my!\"\nYou ain't got to tell me why you're sick 'cause I know why.\nI dip through in that six trey like sick 'em Dre.\nI'm an itch that they can't scratch, they're sick of me.\nBut hey, what else can I say? I love LA.\n'Cause over and above all, it's just another day\nAnd this one begins where the last one ends.\nPick up where we left off and get smashed again.\nI'll be damned, just fucked around and crashed my Benz.\nDriving around with a smashed front end\nLet's cash that one in.\nGrab another one from out the stable\nThe Monte Carlo, El Camino or the El Dorado\nThe hell if I know.\nDo I want leather seats or vinyl?\nDecisions, decisions\nGarage looks like Precision Collision.\nOr Maaco beats quake like Waco\nJust keep the bass low speakers away from your face though\n\nSo crack a bottle, let your body waddle\nDon't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto\nO-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe\nGot one riding shotgun and no not one of 'em got clothes\nNow where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?\nI notice there's so many of 'em\nAnd there's really not that many of us.\nand ladies love us and my posse's kicking up dust.\nIt's on till the break of dawn\nAnd we're starting this party from dusk\n\nAnd I take great pleasure in introducing: 50 Cent\n\n\nIt's bottle after bottle\nThe money ain't a thing when you party with me\nIt's what we into, it's simple\nWe ball out of control like you wouldn't believe\nI'm the napalm, the bomb, the don, I'm King Kong\nGet rolled on, wrapped up, and reigned on\nI'm so calm through Vietnam, ring the alarm\nBring the shaun dawn, burn marajaun, do what you want\nNigga, on and on till the break of what\nGet the paper, man, I'm caking, you know, I don't give a fuck\nI spend it like it don't mean nothing\nBlow it like it's supposed to be blown\nMotherfucker I'm grown\nI stunt, I style, I flash the shit\nI gets what the fuck I want, so what I trick\nFat ass burgundy bags, classy shit, Jimmy Choos shoes\nI say move a bitch move\n\nSo crack a bottle, let your body waddle\nDon't act like a snobby model you just hit the lotto\nO-oh o-oh, bitches hopping in my Tahoe\nGot one riding shotgun and no not one of 'em got clothes\nNow where's the rubbers? Who's got the rubbers?\nI notice there's so many of 'em\nAnd there's really not that many of us.\nand ladies love us and my posse's kicking up dust.\nIt's on till the break of dawn\nAnd we're starting this party from dusk"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Deja Vu", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "D.M.C. we have a mid 30s male\nFound down unresponsive\nPossible over dose\nSubstance unknown\nPulse is 60 and thready\nRespiration's 8 he's intubated\nAnd we're bagging him now\nUuh B.P. 90 over palp\nPatient cool pale and diaphoretic\nHas aspirated\nUuh G.S.C. is 3\nWe'll update en route\nE.T.A. 10 minutes\n\nAs I fall deeper into a manic state\nI'm a prime candidate for the gene to receive the drug addict trait\nBlood pressure climbs at a dramatic rate\nI seem to gravitate to the bottle of NyQuil then I salivate\nStart off with the NyQuil like I think I'll just have a taste\nCouple of sips of that then I gradually graduate\nTo a harder prescription drug called Valium like ya that's great\nI go to take just one and I end up like having eight\nNow I need something in my stomach cause I haven't ate\nMaybe I'll grab a plate of nachos and I'll have a steak\nAnd you'd think with all I have at stake\nLook at my daughter's face... \"Mommy, something is wrong with dad, I think.\nHe's acting weird again he's really beginning to scare me.\nWon't shave his beard again and he pretends he doesn't hear me.\nAnd all he does is eat dorritos and cheetos.\nAnd he just fell asleep in his car eating three musketeers in the rear seat.\"\n\nSometimes I feel so alone,\nI just don't know,\nFeels like I been down this road before.\nSo lonely and cold.\nIt's like something takes over me,\nSoon as I go home and close the door.\nKinda feels like d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu.\nI wanna get away from this place I do.\nBut I can't and I won't say I tried but I know that's a lie cause I don't\nAnd why? I just don't know...\n\nMaybe just a nice cold brew what's a beer\nThat's the devil in my ear I been sober a fucking year\nAnd that fucker still talks to me he is all I can fucking hear\nMarshall, come on, we'll watch the game it's the cowboys and buccaneers.\nAnd maybe if I just drink half I'll be half buzzed for half of the time\nWho's that mastermind behind that little line?\nWith that kind of rational man I got half a mind\nTo have another half of glass of wine sound asinine\nYa I know\nBut I never had no problem with alcohol\nOuch, look out for the wall aim for the couch I'm about to fall\nI missed the couch and down I go looking like a bouncy ball\nShit must have knocked me out 'cause I ain't feel the ground at all\nWow, what the fuck happened last night, where am I?\nMan fuck am I hungover and god damn I got a head ache\nShit half a Vicodin, why can't I?\n\"All systems ready for take off, please, stand by\"\n\nSometimes I feel so alone,\nI just don't know,\nFeels like I been down this road before,\nSo lonely and cold,\nIt's like something takes over me,\nSoon as I go home and close the door,\nKinda feels like d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu.\nI wanna get away from this place I do.\nBut I can't and I won't say I tried but I know that's a lie cause I don't\nAnd why? I just don't know...\n\nSo I take a vicodin splash it hits my stomach and ah\nA couple weeks go by it ain't even like I'm getting high\nNow I need it just not to feel sick ya I'm getting by\nWouldn't even be taking this shit if deshaun didn't die\nOh ya there's an excuse you lose proof so you use\nThere's new rules it's cool if it's helping you to get through\nIt's twelve noon ain't no harm in self inducing a snooze\nWhat else is new? Fuck it, what would Elvis do in your shoes?\nNow here I am three months later full blown relapse\nJust get high until the kids get home from school homes relax\nAnd since I'm convinced that I'm insomniac I need these pills to be able to sleep so I take 3 naps\nJust to be able to function throughout the day let's see\nThat's an Ambien each nap how many Valium? Three.\nAnd that will average out to about one good hours sleep\nOK, so now you see the reason how come he\nHas taken four years just to put out an album beat\nSee me and you we almost had the same outcome heath\nCause that Christmas you know the whole pneumonia thing\nIt was Bologna was it the methadone ya think\nOr the hydrocodone you hide inside your pornos\nYour VCR tape cases with you Ambient CR great places to hide ain't it\nSo you can lie to Hallie\nI'm going beddy bye Whitney baby good night Alaina\nGo in the room and shut the bedroom door and wake up in ambulance\nThey said they found me on the bathroom floor... Damn\n\nSometimes I feel so alone,\nI just don't know,\nFeels like I been down this road before,\nSo lonely and cold,\nIt's like something takes over me,\nSoon as I go home and close the door.\nKinda feels like d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu.\nI wanna get away from this place I do.\nBut I can't and I won't say I tried but I know that's a lie cause I don't.\nAnd why? I just don't know..."},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Beautiful", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Lately I've been hard to reach, I've been too long on my own\nEverybody has a private world where they can be alone\nAre you calling me? Are you trying to get through?\nAre you reaching out for me, like I'm reaching out for you?\n\n\nI'm just so fuckin' depressed, I just can't seem to get out this slump\nIf I could just get over this hump\nBut I need something to pull me out this dump,\nI took my bruises, took my lumps\nFell down and I got right back up\nBut I need that spark to get psyched back up\nIn order for me to pick the mic back up\nI don't know how or why or when I ended up in this position I'm in\nI'm starting to feel distant again\nSo I decided just to pick this pen\nUp and try to make an attempt to vent\nBut I just can't admit\nOr come to grips with the fact that I may be done with rap\nI need a new outlet, and I know some shit's so hard to swallow\nBut I just can't sit back and wallow\nIn my own sorrow\nBut I know one fact I'll be one tough act to follow\nOne tough act to follow\nI'll be one tough act to follow\nHere today, gone tomorrow\nBut you'd have to walk a thousand miles\n\nIn my shoes, just to see\nWhat it's like, to be me\nI'll be you, let's trade shoes\nJust to see what it'd be like to\nFeel your pain, you feel mine\nGo inside each other's minds\nJust to see what we find\nLook at shit through each other's eyes\nBut don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh\nThey can all get fucked.\nJust stay true to you\nSo don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful\nOh, they can all get fucked.\nJust stay true to you, yeah, so...\n\nI think I'm starting to lose my sense of humor\nEverything is so tense and gloom\nI almost feel like I gotta check the temperature in the room\nJust as soon as I walk in\nIt's like all eyes on me\nSo I try to avoid any eye contact\n'Cause if I do that then it opens the door for conversation\nLike I want that... I'm not looking for extra attention\nI just want to be just like you\nBlend in with the rest of the room\nMaybe just point me to the closest restroom\nI don't need no fucking man servant\nTrying to follow me around and wipe my ass\nLaugh at every single joke I crack\nAnd half of them ain't even funny like\n\"Ha!, Marshall you're so funny man, you should be a comedian, God damn\"\nUnfortunately I am, but I just hide behind the tears of a clown\nSo why don't you all sit down?\nListen to the tale I'm about to tell\nHell, we don't gotta trade our shoes\nAnd you ain't gotta walk no thousand miles\n\nIn my shoes, just to see\nWhat it's like, to be me\nI'll be you, let's trade shoes\nJust to see what it'd be like to\nFeel your pain, you feel mine\nGo inside each other's minds\nJust to see what we find\nLook at shit through each other's eyes\nBut don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful\nOh they can all get fucked.\nJust stay true to you so\nDon't let 'em say you ain't beautiful\nOh they can all get fucked.\nJust stay true to you so\n\nNobody asked for life to deal us\nWith these bullshit hands we're dealt\nWe gotta take these cards ourselves\nAnd flip them, don't expect no help\nNow I could have either just\nSat on my ass and pissed and moaned\nOr take this situation in which I'm placed in\nAnd get up and get my own\nI was never the type of kid\nTo wait by the door and pack his bags\nWho sat on the porch and hoped and prayed\nFor a dad to show up who never did\nI just wanted to fit in\nIn every single place\nEvery school I went\nI dreamed of being that cool kid\nEven if it meant acting stupid\n\nAunt Edna always told me \"Keep makin' that face it'll get stuck like that\"\nMeanwhile I'm just standin' there\nHoldin' my tongue tryna talk like this\n'Til I stuck my tongue on that frozen stop sign pole at 8 years old\nI learned my lesson then cause I wasn't tryna impress my friends no more\nBut I already told you my whole life story\nNot just based on my description\n'Cause where you see it from where you're sitting\nIt's probably 110% different\nI guess we would have to walk a mile\nIn each other's shoes, at least\nWhat size you wear? I wear tens\nLet's see if you can fit your feet\n\nIn my shoes, just to see\nWhat it's like, to be me\nI'll be you, let's trade shoes\nJust to see what it'd be like to\nFeel your pain, you feel mine\nGo inside each other's minds\nJust to see what we find\nLook at shit through each other's eyes\nBut don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh\nThey can all get fucked.\nJust stay true to you\nSo don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful\nOh, they can all get fucked.\nJust stay true to you, yeah, so...\n\n\nLately I've been hard to reach, I've been too long on my own\nEverybody has a private world where they can be alone...\nSo are you calling me, are you trying to get through, oh?\nAre you reaching out for me, like I'm reaching out for you?\nSo oh oh\n\n\nYeah... To my babies. Stay strong.\nDaddy will be home soon\nAnd to the rest of the world, God gave you them shoes\nTo fit you, so put 'em on and wear 'em\nBe yourself, man, be proud of who you are\nEven if it sounds corny,\nDon't ever let no one tell you, you ain't beautiful\nSo..."},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Old Time's Sake", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Good evening! This is your fucking captain speaking\r\nWe will soon be reaching an altitude of four million and a half feet \r\nThat's eight million miles in the sky\r\nPlease, undo your seatbelt for takeoff\r\nYou are now free to smoke about the cabin \r\n\r\nI'm Dre from back in the day from NWA from black and the gray from \r\nChoking a bitch to smacking her face from\r\nStacking up bodies to \r\nRacking their kegs up from Racking a bitch to\r\nStacking them crates up \r\nI'm still hungry \r\nAnd I'm back with a tapeworm \r\nAnd we was happening and rapping and tame at me \r\nShady for us competition  Faggot, There ain't none \r\nSpeak of the devil  It's attack of the rain man \r\nChainsaw in hand, blood stain on my apron \r\nSoon as the blade spun run, they run away from\r\n Who wanna play dungeon? \r\nNo one is safe from  In search of a brain surgeon \r\nA great one \r\nWait, the day ain't funny man  It's urgent \r\nI need one \r\nTwo boxes of detergent and a paint gun \r\nAnd an emergency squirt gun to spray A-1 \r\n\r\nSo one more time for old time's sake \r\nDre, drop that beat and scratch that brake \r\nNow just blow a little bit of that smoke my way And let's go \r\nYou are now smoking with the best (the best) \r\n\r\nSmoke signal in the sky like Verizon wireless\r\nA nice environment \r\nSurprised, entirely hypnotized by the sound I surround the hydrants \r\nTaking lives of firemen Say goodbye, here I am again Naked wives and vicadin \r\nBefore I begin to get so high; pussy boy, I could spin Fin, fin \r\nFuck the handle I fly off the hinge Let that boy off the bench, coach and throw it to him \r\nThere he goes in his trench coat, no clothes again \r\nBaby, make us some French toast and show us some skin \r\nI show you every inch grows of my foreskin \r\nShow me nipple I pinch, throw up, and throw up a ten \r\nNow you know it's a sin to tease, blow us again \r\nThe sorcerer of intercourse - if it's forced, it's him \r\nDon't fight the feeling if you're feeling the force within \r\nAnd when you wake up in the morning next to the porcelain \r\n\r\nSo one more time for old time's sake\r\n Dre, drop that beat and scratch that brake \r\nNow just blow a little bit of that smoke my way\r\nAnd let's go You are now smoking with the best (the best)\r\n\r\nNow where there's smoke, there's fire Where there's fire, there's flames \r\nWhere there's flames, there's chronic\r\nEither you high or you ain't \r\nI got no time for no games Nah uh, he ain't playin'\r\nHe's gonna get the AK and aim it right at your brain I'm slightly insane Vodka and kreatine Hypnotic and red bull \r\nIt's an incredible energy drink And it's given me wings I believe I can fly \r\nWhile I pee on a girl You won't catch me, CSI It's as easy as pie \r\nAnd as simple as cake Dre, get on the mic and make them dribble and shake \r\n\r\nNow put your smoke up in the air And raise your henny and coke \r\nAnd if you really wanna get fucked up, just let me know\r\nWe can smoke till there's no more lighter fluid to do it\r\nLets get into it You smoking with the triest and truest \r\nI got the Midas touch When it comes to rolling shit up\r\nYou motherfuckas ain't smoking \r\nYou just holding shit up Now here we go\r\nLet's get up, get down, hold up a blunt \r\nI smoke the kinda stuff that make the records go number one\r\nCuz if at first you don't succeed, won't hurt to smoke some weed\r\nNow them words are just a little more personal for me\r\nSeeing is how I blew up off of puffing them trees Well puffing ain't enough for me \r\nFuck yeah, light it up Cheech, come on Smoke me out, cuz\r\nGive me contact buzz \r\nGet me on track They love me when I'm on that stuff\r\nBut this earth calling Shady, man come on back (what?)\r\nMan we're losing him; he won't even respond back (fuck!) \r\nNow look at all the pretty women in here (Damn bitches)\r\nDre, it's hot \r\nI think we better go check on their temperatures I give them the thermometer \r\nYou get the bandages Now baby just bend over\r\nThis won't hurt a damn bit, \r\n\r\nAnd give me one more time for old time's sake Dre, drop that beat and scratch that brake \r\nNow just blow a little bit of that smoke my way\r\nAnd let's go\r\nYou are now smoking with the best (the best) \r\nI said one more time for old time's sake Dre, drop that beat and scratch that brake\r\nNow just send a little bit of that smoke my way\r\nAnd let's go \r\nYou are now smoking with the best (the best)"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Stay Wide Awake", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Yeah, yeah, Follow me, follow me\r\nCome with me to the dark side of the force\r\nNo man would boldly go to this place\r\nThe devil only knows of this world so dark\r\nAnd oh so cold, it's oh so cold, oh so cold oh!  \r\n\r\nSoon as my flow starts I compose art like the ghost of Mozart\r\nEven though they all say that they're real I know that most aren't\r\nBoy you think you're clever don't ya Girl you think you're so smart\r\nCome with me to another side in a world so cold and so dark\r\nStay Wide Awake \r\n\r\nA world so dark\r\nA world so cold\r\nA world where only some will go\r\nBut not return, when will they learn\r\nWere do they go god only knows\r\nStay Wide Awake\r\n\r\nFe fi fo fum I think I smell the scent of a placenta\r\nI enter central park it's dark it's winter in December I see my target with my car and park it and approach a tender\r\nYoung girl by the name of Brenda and I pretend to befriend her\r\nSit down beside her like a spider hi there girl you mighta\r\nHeard of me before see whore your the kinda girl that I'd\r\nAssault and rape and figure why not try to make your pussy wida\r\nFuck you with an umbrella then open it up while the shit's inside ya\r\nI'm the kind of guy that's mild but I mite flip and get a little bit wilder\r\nImpregnate a lesbian girl now lets see ya have triplets and I'll\r\nDisintegrate them babies as soon as that out her with formalda-\r\nHide and cyanide girl you can try and hide you can try to scream louder\r\nNo need for no gun powder that only takes all the fun outta\r\nMurderin' I'd rather go vrim! vrim! and now you see just how the\r\nFuck I do just what I do when I cut right through your scalp, uh\r\nShit wait a minute I mean skull my knife seems dull\r\nPull another one out, Uh! \r\n\r\nSoon as my flow starts I compose art like the ghost of Mozart\r\nEven though they all say that they're real I know that most aren't\r\nBoy you think you're clever don't ya\r\nGirl you think you're so smart\r\nCome with me to another side in a world so cold and so dark Stay Wide Awake\r\n\r\nA world so dark\r\nA world so cold\r\nA world where only some will go\r\nBut not return, when will they learn\r\nWere do they go, god only knows\r\nStay Wide Awake \r\n\r\nSo dark and so cold my friends don't know this other side of me\r\nThere's a monster inside of me it's quite ugly and it frightens me\r\nBut they can't see what I can see there's a vacancy in my tummy\r\nIt's makin' me play hide n' seek like Jason I'm so hungry\r\nShe's naked see no privacy but I can see she wants me\r\nSo patient see I try to be but Gee why does she taunt me\r\nPulls the drapes and she goes right to sleep\r\nAnd I creep right through the front see\r\nSo blatantly but silently cuz I know that she's sound asleep\r\nWho's wakin' me so violently and why is he on top of me\r\nHe's rapin' me she try's to scream somebody please get him off me\r\nHe's tapin' me he's biting me he's laughing likes it's funny\r\nShe's scrapin' me she's fightin' me she's scratching like some dumb freak\r\nEscapin' me no dice ya see I might just be Ted Bundy\r\nOr Satan gee what a site to see I'm dancing in my red panties\r\nI'm crazy but it's alright with me man life can be so empty\r\nStay away from cuz I'm dancing to quite a different drum beat\r\n\r\nSoon as my flow starts I compose art like the ghost of Mozart\r\nEven though they all say that they're real I know that most aren't\r\nBoy you think you're clever don't ya\r\nGirl you think you're so smart\r\nCome with me to another side in a world so cold and so dark Stay Wide Awake\r\n\r\nA world so dark\r\nA world so cold\r\nA world where only some will go\r\nBut not return, when will they learn\r\nWere do they go, god only knows\r\nStay Wide Awake\r\n\r\nBetter try to stay wide awake or you might be found dead by the lake\r\nSoon as you lay me down to sleep bitch your soul I'm a try to take\r\nPray for light today right away why do they try to fight today\r\nI must make them pay twice as much might as well put the knife away\r\nNow I use power tools how 'bout now are you in the shower\r\nScour you for 6 hours till outage your power outlets\r\nHow did ya figure out I was down in your basement now ya\r\nMust of just heard the sound of my stomach growlin' from down there\r\nPower there's no one fowler bound ya the tub they found ya\r\nFace down in the tub I drown you with piles of downers around ya\r\nSuch nostalgia and power such prowess look how you cower\r\nJumped out on you now like I was a Jawa from fuckin' star wars\r\nJabba the Hut be di bye bye, be di bye bye it's time to die die\r\nOught to not even bother to scream it don't even matter\r\nAmazing when grazing skin with these razor blades he waves at ya\r\nNot your everyday Damien bath me in holy water\r\nMelting like Son of Sam so please understand there's no gun in hand\r\nWhere's the thrill in a hunt there's no fun in that here I come with axe\r\nOnce I act like lumberjack when I'm hackin' him up with that\r\nWhat was that dial 911 someone's comin' in from the back\r\n\r\nSoon as my flow starts I compose art like the ghost of Mozart\r\nEven though they all say that they're real I know that most aren't\r\nBoy you think you're clever don't ya\r\nGirl you think you're so smart\r\nCome with me to another side in a world so cold and so dark\r\nStay Wide Awake\r\n\r\nA world so dark\r\nA world so cold\r\nA world where only some will go\r\nBut not return, when will they learn\r\nWere do they go, god only knows\r\nStay Wide Awake"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Medicine Ball", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Oh, my goodness What have I done (oh no) I can't believe it\r\nIt's like... I've got the whole world\r\nIn my palm And I'm ready to drop bombs...\r\nWelcome to the slim shady mecca Rebecca\r\nIt's the village in new york right next to the try decca\r\nIt's my sector homosexual dissector\r\nCome again rewind selector\r\nI said nice rectum I had a vasectomy hector\r\nSo you can't get pregnant if I bisexually reck ya\r\nHannibal Lector into guy sex and I bet ya I tantalize ya in the less than five seconds I get ya\r\nThey said once bitten n twice shy\r\nWe lie next to the guy\r\nWith nine ecstasy pills and five extra\r\nBoxes of ripped condoms and quantities why yes sir I took the rest of the lunester pills from my dresser\r\nIt's my kinda vibe what else shud I try lester\r\nDrop, kick the bitch before the second trimester\r\nPerformed a home abortion with dexter the (ni yeser)\r\nDig her fetus out with a wire hanging then digest her\r\n\r\n\r\nI guess it's time for you to hate me again Lets begin now hand me the pen\r\nHow shud I begin it and were does it all end The world is just my medicine ball your all in\r\nI said I guess it's time for you to hate me again Lets begin now hand me the pen\r\nHow shud I begin it and were does it all end My medicine ball your in my medicine ball friends\r\n\r\nAll my west side bitches throw it up Put a balloon inside your pussy... queef and blow it up\r\nMan I think that he just fell off the teeth and showing up\r\nSo you better change the station\r\nTo keep from throwing up Man you seen it all before your all too familiar with it\r\nThere's a penis on the floor and two balls so you know who did it\r\nYou know you with it girl don't front, oh no you didn't I won right by the pussy cat dolls when call you kitten\r\nI'll pee on rihanna see man I do what I wanna\r\nSpray perfume in the sauna room\r\ncrazy glue in Madonna to The lazy boy so called fold her in two and sit on her\r\nImagine if visual for that man Who would've thoughta\r\nCould ever be such a relentless prick\r\nAnd leashin his fingers  For the chicks who waltz\r\nShe looks like she outlived her life sentence I never meant this, rhyme to be so offensive\r\nIf you (were(nt)) so defensive it wouldn't be\r\nYour so sensitive\r\n\r\n\r\nI guess it's time for you to hate me again Lets begin now hand me the pen\r\nHow shud I begin it and were does it all end\r\nThe world is just my medicine ball your all in\r\nI said I guess it's time for you to hate me again\r\nLets begin now hand me the pen\r\nHow shud I begin it and were does it all end\r\nMy medicine ball your in my medicine ball friends\r\n\r\nPut Christopher Reeves on a unicycle with a kickstand\r\nKick it up and push him and lead him right into quick sand\r\nHere you need a hand... big man... grab hold of this branch\r\nWith both hands, man they don't understand I'm just a sick man\r\nNow everybody's pissed at me like it's my fault his name rhymes with so many different words... jeeze\r\nSo one last time, mister Christopher reeves Won't you break it down for me and just spit the verse please\r\n(Christopher Reeves) Eminem I'm coming to kill you (sniff)\r\nAlways hated you and I still do You'll never feel my shoes\r\nMy superman costume (sniff)\r\nDoesn't even fit you they don't feel you  You taking this shit too far (sniff)\r\nWho d'you think you are (hang) my suit up in the armoire\r\nEveryday I hate you more and more Throw down the cardboard\r\nLets break dance if you think your hardcore\r\n\r\nI guess it's time for you to hate me again Lets begin now hand me the pen\r\nHow shud I begin it and were does it all end The world is just my medicine ball your all in\r\nI said I guess it's time for you to hate me again\r\nLets begin now hand me the pen\r\nHow shud I begin it and were does it all end\r\nMy medicine ball your in my medicine ball friends"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Bagpipes From Baghdad", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Ohh, it's music to my ears\nOh man, how can I describe the way I feel?\nFuckin' great, man\nOkay, let me see, how could I begin?\n\nLocked in Mariah's wine cellar, all I had for lunch\nWas bread, wine, more bread, wine and Cap'n Crunch\nRed wine for breakfast and for brunch\nAnd to soak it up and in between snack crackers to munch\n\nMariah, whatever happened to us?\nWhy did we have to break up? All I asked for was a glass of punch\nYou see I never really asked for much\nI can't imagine what's goin' through you mind\nAfter such a nasty break up\n\nWith that Latin hunk Luis Miguel\nNick Cannon better back the fuck up\nI'm not playin', I want her back you punk\nThis is Hello Kitty bedspread satin funk\n\nMixed with Egyptian, with a little rap and punk\nZap and Eric Clapton shaft brings Abba crunk\nAnd yeah baby, I want another crack at ya\nYou can beat me with any spatula that you want\n\nI mean I really want ya bad, you cunt\nNick, you had your fun, I've come to kick you in your sack of junk\nMan, I could use a fresh batch of blood\nSo prepare your vernacular for Dracula acupuncture\n\n\nBagpipes from Baghdad\nWhen will it ever cease for Pete's sakes, he's crazy to say the least\nBagpipes from Baghdad\nWhat's goin' through my mind half the time\nWhen my rhyme are blowin' up my\nBagpipes from Baghdad\nSomebody turn the 'Vacancy' sign on 'cause I'm gone blowin' up my\nBagpipes from Baghdad\nI run the streets and act like a mad man holdin' a glad\n\nYou can be a permanent fixture in my lyrical mixture\nI'm the miracle whip, a trickster\nMy signature sound when the tube of lipsticks surround\nI'm bound to put it on in an instant, wow, man\n\nWhat an ensemble, what an assortment of pharmaceuticals\nThis beautiful pill dust in my palm\nCuticles get residue just from touching the bottle\nNever knew I could remind me so much of my mama\n\nI cut you like Dahmer, pull a butcher knife on ya\nThe size of a sword, boy, I'm like the fuckin' Red Sonja\nGet it stuck in your cornea, nice knowin' ya Norman\nYou're so fuckin' annoyin', drop the shovel, boy\n\nYou don't know what the fuck you're doin'\nI ain't playin' no fuckin' more\nNick Cannon you prick, I wish you luck with the fuckin' whore\nEvery minute there's a sucka born\nSnuck up on Malakai and made the motherfuckers suck\nOn a shucka corn\n\nShucka, shucka corn, shucka corn\nHit Jason in the face with a hockey puck and told him it's fuckin' on\nNow what the fuck are ya doin'? You're runnin' over the snow blower\nWith the lawnmower blowing your bagpipes from Baghdad\n\n\n\nIn the bed with two brain dead lesbian vegetables\nI bet you they become heterosexual\nNothin' will stop me from molestin' you\nTitty fuckin' you 'till your breast nipple flesh tickles my testicles\n\nIs what they said, to the two conjoined twins\n\"How's it going girlfriends, you need a boyfriend?\"\nYou need some ointment, just set up an appointment\nWho's gonna see the doctor first, we'll do a coin flip\n\nI just got my one year sobriety coin chip\nWhen the bad get goin', how bad does the goin' get?\nBaby, you shouldn't have any trouble rubbin' groins with\nEach other, especially when you're joined at the hip\n\nI'm goin' to get the needle and thread from the sowin' kit\nAnd attempt to separate 'em, and stitch them back at the loins, shit\nKnew the little boy with the chocolate chips, ahoy chip\nCookie looky, even took me a Polaroid"},
{"year": "2006", "title": "No Apologies", "album": "\"Eminem Presents The Re-Up\" (2006)", "lyrics": "In my mind I'm a fighter, my heart's a lighter\nMy soul is the fluid, my flow sparks it right up\nArsenic writer, author with arthritis\nCarpel tunnel, Marshall will start shit-itis\nHard headed and hot headed, bull headed and pig headed,\nDick headed, a prick, a big headache I'm sick\nQuick witted, for every lyric spitted there are 6 critics\nWho wait for me to slip with it so quick\nThis dynamite stick buried the wick, it's gonna explode any minute\nSome lunatic lit it and it's not Nelly\nDo not tell me to stop yelling, when I stop selling I quit\nSo stop dwelling and I am not failing\nYou fuckers are not ready, 'cause I got jelly like (Beyonce's) pot belly\nThis is Destiny, yes money I'm off running\nSo get off of me, I'm not slowing or softening\n\n\nNo apologies, nah suckers I'm not sorry\nYou can all sue me, y'all could be the cause of me\nNo apologies, y'all feelin' the force of me\nNo remorse for me, like there was no recourse for me\nNo apologies, not even acknowledging you at all\n'til I get a call that god's coming\nNo apologies, laugh fuckers it's all funny\nI can spit in ya face while your standin' across from me, no apologies\n\n\nMy head hits the pillow, a weeping willow, I can't sleep, a pain so deep it bellows\nBut these cellos help just to keep me mellow, hand's on my head, touched knees to elbow\nI'm hunched over, emotion just flows over, these cold shoulders are both frozen, you don't know me\nI keep saying it, I can't stress it enough, so keep playing it and stand next to the subs\nI choke mic's like asphyxiation when I'm stranglin' my own throat masturbatin'\nFuck yeah I'm a basket case and I mastered this rap shit, 'til my ass gets wasted, 'til my assassination,\n'Til I'm slain 'cause of some fag's infatuation\n44 mags a fascination, a taste for disaster and if that's the case then...\n\n\n\n\nThis song isn't for you, it's for me, a true MC\nIt's what it do just to see if he still has it\nAnd if his skills mastered,\nHe's able to spill raps long after his killed, that's a real MC\nGot you feelin' me, whether willing or unwillingly\nYou still agree, as long as there's still this hunger and will in me\nThen expect a longer life expectancy\nI'd be a savage beast if I ain't have this outlet to salvage me inside\nI'd be exploding soaked in self loathing an mourning\nSo I'm warning you, don't coax me\nIt's silly, I'm really a sheep in wolf's clothing\nWho only reacts when he gets pushed, don't be fooled\nThe press blows up this whole thing, it's stupid\nThey don't know 'cause they don't see that I'm wounded\nAll they did was ballooned it\nI'm sick of talkin' 'bout these tattoos cartoon did\nThat's why I tuned it out, I'm sick of dukin'\nAnd they can suck my dick while I'm pukin', and you too, you can\n\n\nExpect no sympathy from me I'm an MC\nThis is how I'm supposed to be\nCold as a G, my hearts frozen it don't even beat\nSo expect no apologies"},
{"year": "2006", "title": "Jimmy Crack Corn", "album": "\"Eminem Presents The Re-Up\" (2006)", "lyrics": "Jimmy can crack corn, but I don't care\r\nMy enemies crack corn, but I don't care\r\nYou can be black, white or a albino yeah\r\nYou can have corn rows inside your hair\r\nI give a fuck if I don't like your stare\r\nThis bottle of wine goes upside your head\r\nA little bit psycho, but I know that\r\nThink you just don't say it, then I won't say it\r\nSee if you don't brag, then I don't brag\r\nI know I'm bad, as long as I know I'm bad\r\nI don't need y'all to co-sign no shit\r\nYou can just keep making them tired old threats\r\nA little bit like the boy you cried wolf yeah\r\nSee me, but don't dare to try no shit\r\nCause you know that somewhere inside those layers\r\nA rattlesnake's right there to bite your ass\r\nAnd I can be so quiet and strike so fast\r\nLike lightning bolts right out the sky go *blah\r\nFrom outta nowhere, you might find your career\r\nCome to an *err and I'm just like (Oh Yeah)\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSee us on them award shows, we're like (Oh yeah)\r\nCan we get more of those, they're like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee us keep blowing up, we're like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee Jimmy can crack corn but I don't care\r\nSee me in the videos, I'm like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee me right up close, you're like (Oh Em)\r\nAnd where is D12 at, they like (We over here)\r\nAnd where the fuck we going, we're like (No where)\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nJealous little fucks beg for my attention but\r\nI done told you once, I'm not the kind of attention you want\r\nIf I tell you twice, then I won't be so nice\r\nIf you keep coming back, that only means you know you lost the fight\r\nThey wanna talk shit, let em talk shit, cause they talk shit\r\nKnowing deep down, they really just wanna squash it\r\nCause no one wants to walk around, stepping in dog shit\r\nAnd get doo-doo on the shoe again, soon as they washed it\r\nBut the pride won't let em, inside's like 'go get em'\r\nAnd I'm just like 'Why your tryna fight momentum'\r\nWe just keep winning, by landslides oh and umm\r\nShady Limited's in any size yo, Denim\r\nTo velour, even our clothing line's on fire\r\nAs 50 would say 'Our clothing line's on Fiya'\r\nMeanwhile your minds on us, like mine's on Mariah\r\nAnd y'all is just like her, you're all fucking liars\r\nBut I just keep fucking you, like I fucked her\r\nRight in the ass with KY, yes sir!\r\nSo full of joy, boy am I absurd\r\nEven Chingy would tell you\r\n'Yea boi don't curr'\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSee us on them award shows, we're like (Oh yeah)\r\nCan we get more of those, they're like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee us keep blowing up, we're like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee Jimmy can crack corn but I don't care\r\nSee me in the videos, I'm like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee me right up close, you're like (Oh Em)\r\nAnd where is G-Unit at, they like (We over here)\r\nAnd where the fuck we going, we're like (No where)\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nYa homie got clapped on, man I don't care\r\nThe cops in my Nana crib, but I'm not there\r\nIt is what it is dogg, man life's not fair\r\nYa friend should've know not to front round here\r\nListen kid, where I'm from, the wolves smell fear\r\nThey'll strip yo ass of your jewels, right here\r\nMan I'ma say this one time, now get this clear\r\nMan you can catch a hot one like outta no where\r\nA beautiful day, without drama is rare\r\nYa girl's a freak, man sometime we share\r\nYeah, I wear a condom and you go bare\r\nYou prolly heard about me, I'm a shown up player\r\nIn the hood politicin, like I'm running for mayor\r\nriding, winding, dining and shining, know what I'm saying\r\nI ain't got time for fucking around, and horseplaying\r\nI'm making hits, my homies taking hits, who's staying\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSee us on them award shows, we're like (Oh yeah)\r\nCan we get more of those, they're like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee us keep blowing up, we're like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee Jimmy can crack corn but I don't care\r\nSee me in the videos, I'm like (Oh yeah)\r\nSee me right up close, you're like (Oh Em)\r\nAnd where is D12 at, they like (We over here)\r\nAnd where the fuck we going, we're like (No where)"},
{"year": "2006", "title": "The Re-Up", "album": "\"Eminem Presents The Re-Up\" (2006)", "lyrics": "Yeah, we should do something like that...\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nBoom boom chuck, boom b-boom chuck!\r\nBoom boom chuck, Yeah, that's what's up!\r\nBoom boom chuck, boom b-boom chuck!\r\nBoom boom chuck, b-boom, Shady!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThere's never been this, much of a menace in this game as this\r\nAnd it's the, most sinister duo in the business\r\nOnce again its the, illest and realest killas\r\nThe most villainous Dre protege, Shady apprentice\r\nDrop them zeros and get with these heroes\r\nDo you want losers or winners, this music is in us, and it's\r\nNot over 'till we say it's finished and G-Unit spinners\r\nWill keep spinnin', this is Hip Hop when it's in it's\r\nTruest form, the greatest, Hate us or love us\r\nMake voodoo dolls of us and keep stickin' those pins in us\r\nThick as his skin is or as short as his wick is\r\nThe trick is to be able to walk big as his dick is\r\nAnd as sick as his music is, or was, still is\r\nWhatever, forever, he will be the illest\r\nTo ever sh-shock the world, what to do next\r\nHe's already reconciled with his ex , a chainsaw and an axe\r\nJump a bitch's desk, strangle her neck\r\nWhile we have sex while Bill Clinton plays the sax\r\nI sprays the vex, yeah bring Shady on back\r\nThe maniac of rap, devil baby on crack\r\nResurrect, I never left, baby I'm bad\r\nI've gone mad, my comrade Dre-zy automatically\r\nHe says I'm too broke to fix, way beyond that\r\nI may be off drugs, but it's made me off track\r\nIn fact, this right here very well could be the last rap\r\nI ever do spit, I'll never do shit, that's that\r\nFuck it I quit, suck on a dick, jackass\r\nI'm done with this wack ass rap, kiss my black ass\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nNah, Em, tell 'em to kiss my black ass, to clean parts, to shitty parts,\r\nMy bullet wounds, my beauty marks, the Fif'll tell you're ass apart!\r\nA game in this game, crush a motherfuckers free start,\r\nShady paid me, Shady crazy, Fifty crazy rich, bitch,\r\nDifferent day, nothing change, it's the same shit, trick,\r\nTeflon wrapped on, case I get clapped on,\r\nD's searching the whip, glad I left the mac home,\r\nStill grindin', still shinin', nigga lord knows,\r\nYou rocking wit the kid to spit sicker sick flows,\r\nI carried Game's style for nine months and gave birth to it,\r\nNow I'm feeling like a proud father watching him do it,\r\nE'eryday Dre day, front and cause a maylay,\r\nTurn the town upside down with a frown upside down,\r\nI smile through summan' fowl, and watch my money pile,\r\nI'm fuckin' with strict stacks, I'm kickin' you stripped fats,\r\nI hit you with it, bag it, pump it, bring me mines right back!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nBoom boom chuck, boom b-boom chuck!\r\nBoom boom chuck, Go 'head, funky funk up!\r\nBoom boom chuck, boom b-boom chuck!\r\nBoom boom chuck, Yeah, that's what's up!\r\nBoom boom chuck, boom b-boom chuck!\r\nBoom boom chuck, I hit yo' ass up!\r\nBoom boom chuck, boom b-boom chuck!\r\nBoom boom chuck, Yeah, that's what's up! (Yeah!)\r\nBoom boom chuck, boom b-boom chuck!\r\nBoom boom chuck, (It's the Re-Up!)\r\nShady, Shady...."},
{"year": "2005", "title": "Intro", "album": "\"Curtain Call\" (2005)", "lyrics": "WHOOOO!!!\r\nHey, how you guys doin.\r\nYou want more?\r\nAlright, then SHUT UP!!!\r\n\r\nShoobeedoo (Shoobeedoo)\r\nShoobeedoo (Shoobeedoo)\r\nShoobeedoo (Shoobeedoo)\r\nShoobeedoo Shoobee Snoobedeebeebop\r\n\r\nGirl (girl, girl, girl)\r\nYour My World (world, world world)\r\nYour My Girl (girl, girl girl)\r\nYour my world, world world.\r\n \r\nHere's a song for da ladies."},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Ass Like That", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "The way you shake it, I can't believe it\r\nI ain't never seen an ass like that\r\nThe way you move it, you make my pee pee go\r\nDoing, doing, doing\r\n\r\nI don't believe it, it's almost too good to be true\r\nI ain't never seen an ass like that\r\nThe way you move it, you make my pee pee go\r\nDoing, doing, doing\r\n\r\nThe way she moves she's like a belly dancer\r\nShe's shaking that ass to that new nelly jam, I\r\nThink someones at the door\r\nBut I don't think I'm gonna answer\r\nPolice saying \"freeze\"\r\nDoing, doing, doing\r\nWhat do you mean freeze?\r\nPlease, I'm a human being, I have needs\r\nI'm not done, not till I'm finish peeing\r\nI am not resisting arrest, I am agreeing Mr. Officer\r\nI'm already on my knees\r\nI can't get on the ground any further, it's impossible for me\r\nAnd do not treat me like a murderer, I just like to pee, pee, pee\r\nYes, I make r&b, I sing song it go\r\nRing-a-chong, a-ching-chong-chong-chong-ching\r\nPsych, I joke, I joke, I kidd, I kidd\r\nIf I offend I'm sorry, please, please forgive\r\nFor I am Triumph, the puppet dog, I am a mere puppet\r\nI can get away with anything I sing, you will love it\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nJessica Simpson, looks oh so temptin'\r\nNick I ain't never seen an ass like that\r\nEverytime I see that show on MTV my pee pee goes\r\nDoing, doing, doing\r\n\r\nMary-Kate and Ashley used to be so wholesome\r\nNow they're getting older, they're starting to grow bum bums\r\nI go to the movies and sit down with my pop corn\r\nPolice saying \"freeze\"\r\nDoing doing doing\r\nWhat do you mean freeze?\r\nGeez, I just got my seat\r\nI have ticket, look, I put away my zipper zipped\r\nPlease do not remove me from this movie theater please\r\nI did not even get to see Mary-Kate shower scene\r\nI didn't mean to be obscene or make a great big scene\r\nAnd don't treat me like I'm pee wee herman, this movies PG\r\nMr. Officer, I demand to see my attorney\r\nI will simply plead innocent, cop a plea and be free\r\nFree, yes, free, right back on the streets\r\nWhat you mean my lawyer's with Michael, he's too busy?\r\nI am Triumph, Britney Spears has shoulders like a man\r\nAnd I can say that and you'll laugh cuz that is a puppet on my hand\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nHilary Duff is not quite old enough so\r\nI ain't never seen a butt like that\r\nMaybe next year I'll say ass and she'll make my pee pee go\r\nDoing, doing, doing\r\n\r\nThe way she moves she dances like a go-go\r\nIn that video she sings get out your bozo\r\nI need a new boyfriend, hi my name is JoJo\r\nPolice saying \"freeze\"\r\nDoing, doing, doing\r\nWhat do you mean freeze?\r\nMy computers would be seized and my keys to my ranch\r\nI just baked cookies Mr. Officer, looky, take a whiff of these\r\nHere, I make Jesus juice, take a sip of this\r\nNobody is safe from me, no not even me\r\nI don't even know if I can say the word pee pee, pee\r\nOn the radio, but I think I did\r\nJanet, is that a breast, I think I just saw a tit\r\nPsych, I joke, I joke, I kidd, I kidd\r\nI don't think my joke is working, I must flee quick\r\nGet to the chopper, everybody get out\r\nI am not Triumph, I am Arnold, get down\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSo Gwen Stefani, will you pee pee on me please?\r\nI ain't never seen an ass like that\r\nCuz the way you move it, you make my pee pee go\r\nDoing, doing, doing\r\n\r\nWhat the fuck is wrong with you? (ha!)"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Paul (Skit)", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Hey Em, it's Paul\r\nUh, listen I just got a call from the label\r\nAnd you're probably not gonna be surprised but, um\r\nMichael Jackson is extremely upset about the 'Just Lose It' video\r\nAnd um, I mean he's pissed so I-I don't know what he's gonna do\r\nBut we gotta talk about how we're gonna handle this, um\r\nOh yeah, anyway, somebody told me that, um, they heard a rumor that you got a new gun, um\r\nI know it's probably not true, but I just need to talk to you about that\r\nSo, uh, give me a call"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Puke", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "There I go--thinking of you again\n\n\nYou don't know how sick you make me\nYou make me fuckin' sick to my stomach\nEvery time I think of you, I puke\nYou must just not know--whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nYou may not think you do, but you do\nEvery time I think of you I puke\n\nI was gonna take the time to sit down and write you a little poem\nBut off of the dome would probably be a little more, more suitable for this type of song--whoa\nI got a million reasons off the top of my head that I could think of\nSixteen bars, this ain't enough to put some ink ta\nSo fuck it, I'ma start right here I'll just be brief I'm\nBout to rattle off some of the reasons\nI knew I shouldn't go and get another tattoo of you\nOn my arm, but what do I go and do\nI go and get another one, now I got two\nOoh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh\nNow I'm sittin' here with your name on my skin\nI can't believe I went and did this stupid shit again\nMy next girlfriend, now her name's gotta be Kim\nShi-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-it\nIf you only knew how much I hated you\nFor every motherfuckin' thing you ever put us through\nThen I wouldn't be standing here crying over you\nBoo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-who\n\n\nYou don't know how sick you make me\nYou make me fuckin' sick to my stomach\nEvery time I think of you, I puke\nYou must just not know--whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nYou may not think you do, but you do\nEvery time I think of you I puke\n\nI was gonna take the time to sit down and write you a little letter\nBut I thought a song would probably be a little better\nInstead of a letter\nThat you'd probably just shred up--yeah\nI stumbled on your picture yesterday and it made me stop and think of\nHow much of a waste it'd be for me to put some ink ta, a stupid piece a\nPaper, I'd rather let you see how\nMuch I fuckin' hate you in a freestyle\nYou're a fuckin' coke-head slut, I hope you fuckin' die\nI hope you get to hell and Satan sticks a needle in your eye\nI hate your fuckin' guts, you fuckin' slut, I hope you die\nDi-ii-ii-ii-ii-ii-ie\nBut please don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter or mad\nIt's not that I still love you, it's not 'cause I want you back\nIt's just that when I think of you, it makes me wanna\nGag-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-ag\nWhat else can I do, I haven't got a clue\nNow I guess I'll just move on, I have no choice but to\nBut every time I think of you now all I wanna do\nIs pu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uke\n\n\nYou don't know how sick you make me\nYou make me fuckin' sick to my stomach\nEvery time I think of you, I puke\nYou must just not know--whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nYou may not think you do, but you do\nEvery time I think of you, I puke\n\nFuckin' bitch"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Mosh", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America\r\nAnd to the Republic for which it stands\r\nOne nation under God\r\nIndivisible with liberty and justice for all...\r\nIt feels so good to be back..\r\n\r\nI scrutinize every word, memorize every line\r\nI spit it once, refuel, re-energize and rewind\r\nI give sight to the blind, my insight through the mind\r\nI exercise my right to express when I feel it's time\r\nIt's just all in your mind, what you interpret it as\r\nI say to fight, you take it as I'mma whip someone's ass\r\nIf you don't understand, don't even bother to ask\r\nA father who has grown up with a fatherless past\r\nWho has blown up now to rap phenomenon that has\r\nOr at least shows no difficulty multi-task\r\nAnd in juggling both perhaps mastered his craft\r\nSlash entrepreneur who has helped launch a few more rap acts\r\nWho's had a few obstacles thrown his way through the last half\r\nOf his career typical manure moving past that\r\nMr. kisses ass crack, he's a class act\r\nRubber band man, yea he just snaps back\r\n\r\n\r\nCome along follow me as I lead through the darkness\r\nAs I provide just enough spark that we need to proceed\r\nCarry on, give me hope, give me strength\r\nCome with me and I won't steer you wrong\r\nPut your faith and your trust as I guide us through the fog\r\nTo the light at the end of the tunnel\r\nWe gonna fight, we gonna charge, we gonna stomp, we gonna march\r\nThrough the swamp, we gonna mosh through the marsh\r\nTake us right through the doors (c'mon)\r\n\r\nAll the people up top on the side and the middle\r\nCome together lets all bomb and swamp just a little\r\nJust let it gradually build from the front to the back\r\nAll you can see is a sea of people some white and some black\r\nDon't matter what color, all that matters we gathered together\r\nTo celebrate for the same cause don't matter the weather\r\nIf it rains let it rain, yea the wetter the better\r\nThey ain't gonna stop us they can't, we stronger now more than ever\r\nThey tell us no we say yea, they tell us stop we say go\r\nRebel with a rebel yell, raise hell we gonna let em know\r\nStomp, push, shove, mush, Fuck Bush, until they bring our troops home (c'mon)\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nImagine it pouring, it's raining down on us\r\nMosh pits outside the oval office\r\nSomeone's tryina tell us something,\r\nMaybe this is God just sayin' we're responsible\r\nFor this monster, this coward,\r\nThat we have empowered\r\nThis is Bin Laden, look at his head noddin'\r\nHow could we allow something like this without pumping our fists\r\nNow this is our final hour\r\nLet me be the voice in your strength and your choice\r\nLet me simplify the rhyme just to amplify the noise\r\nTry to amplify the times it, and multiply by six...\r\nTeen million people, Are equal at this high pitch\r\nMaybe we can reach alqueda through my speech\r\nLet the president answer a higher anarchy\r\nStrap him with an Ak-47, let him go, fight his own war\r\nLet him impress daddy that way\r\nNo more blood for oil, we got our own battles to fight on our own soil\r\nNo more psychological warfare, to trick us to thinking that we ain't loyal\r\nIf we don't serve our own country, we're patronizing a hero\r\nLook in his eyes its all lies\r\nThe stars and stripes, they've been swiped, washed out and wiped\r\nAnd replaced with his own face, Mosh now or die\r\nIf I get sniped tonight you know why,\r\nCause I told you to fight.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nAnd as we proceed,\r\nTo Mosh through this desert storm,\r\nIn these closing statements, if they should argue\r\nLet us beg to differ\r\nAs we set aside our differences\r\nAnd assemble our own army\r\nTo disarm this Weapon of Mass Destruction\r\nThat we call our President, for the present\r\nAnd Mosh for the future of our next generation\r\nTo speak and be heard\r\nMr. President, Mr. Senator\r\nDo you guy's hear us...hear us... (Hailie)"},
{"year": "2003", "title": "Come On In", "album": "\"Straight From The Lab\" (2003)", "lyrics": "Good mornin\r\nHaha, wake your mother fuckin asses up\r\nYo what is the what?\r\nWell come on then, you know what time it is\r\nStop sleepin on my roof bitch\r\n\r\nFor whatever it's worth it's worth me havin my arse whipped\r\nCause I'ma have the last lift that ever gets arse squished\r\nI just can't get past these little pissants\r\nThat wanna be rauny bad asses so bad\r\nAnd they so mad they can't stand it\r\nCause we can and they can't spit (Haawk)\r\nAnd they can't handle it like a man\r\nAnd that's when it just happens\r\nAnd I snap and it's a wrap, and it's a scrap an then it isn't rap is it?\r\nHip-Hop isn't a sport anymore when you got to go and resort back into that shit\r\nMaybe I'm old fashioned but my pashion \r\nIs to smash anyone rappin without havin a slappin \r\nBelieve me I'd much rather pick up a pencil than a pistol when I'm pissed now\r\nBut it all depends on just how far it get's took on the mic\r\nCause I'm tellin you right now your not gonna like it\r\nCause if I get pushed over the edge then I'm pullin you with me\r\nYou poke a stick at a pitbull you get bit B\r\nThese words stick to you like crazy glue\r\nWhen you diss me cause they just bounce off me like bullets do fifty!\r\nI'm the beatiful-est thing and your gonna miss me when I'm gone\r\nLike Kieth Murry when he threw a stool and hit a girl acci-dently (argghhh!!)\r\nI do this for Swifty, Kon and Kuniva, Bizzy & Proof are you with me?\r\n\r\n\r\nCome on an everybody come on an\r\nKick your shoes off mother fuckers come on an\r\nCause we get it on an till the brick of dawn an\r\nWake your arse up mother fuckers quit yawnin\r\nCause we ain't leavin till 6 in tha mornin\r\nSo up an sing along with the words to the song an\r\nIf you don't know the words an you can't sing along an\r\nFake like you know em mother fuckers an join in\r\nEverybody come on an\r\n\r\n\r\n?? the media pitted me of a beef starter\r\nIn a party with heat it's hard to keep me without one\r\nFuck slugs I'm walkin gloves with a shotgun\r\nConstantly popin slugs they hot son, better not run\r\nThe bosses of all bosses a haluocaust to whoever ain't concious\r\nIn a house full of dog shit, \r\nI'ma gothic death project, you stop breathin \r\nYou die quicker than mach speed without bleedin\r\nIt ain't about what you readin\r\nWhen you meet me better speak like a season's greetins\r\nEither that or we'll be beefin free when \r\nYou ******* need a 'E' just to speak shit!\r\nYour leader is a botique bitch\r\nKeep the heater where you can reach quick\r\nI snipe you with it and we won't even keep it a secret\r\n****** I did it from a mind of a mental patient\r\nWhen glocks wave you can save that conversation for satan\r\nYou brave?\r\n\r\n\r\nCome on an everybody come on an\r\nKick your shoes off mother fuckers come on an\r\nCause we get it on an till the brick of dawn an\r\nWake your arse up mother fuckers quit yawnin\r\nCause we ain't leavin till 6 in tha mornin\r\nSo up an sing along with the words to the song an\r\nIf you don't know the words an you can't sing along an\r\nFake like you know em mother fuckers an join in\r\nEverybody come on an\r\n\r\n\r\nYo yo I heard you niggas don't like us\r\nBut so what this beef is like \r\n'What tha fuck did he say in his rap Em?'\r\nI can see that he's just a punk \r\nI mean these niggas squeeze on me \r\nPlease I'm seeing guts\r\nI don't need no enemies, as my family a couple trucks\r\nAm I empty seein them ?? I emtpy out them ?? to fight you \r\nIn front of every reporter that I don't like\r\nNo need for metaphores I get yours across when I write\r\nSo emotions enough to say \"fuck you bitch, and I don't like you, WHAT!\" \r\nI might as well give this up like heavy sales\r\nAnd just fuck an leave D12 and this blunt \r\nWe can't self destruct\r\nI've never felt it this much\r\nCome on fellas, get up\r\nWe got to fight like Bugs last night of his life\r\n\r\n\r\nI walk with a limp, pistol hangin off'a tha hip\r\nI'm awkward and quick enough an sick when sparkin a fith\r\nYour carcus is split even the beef is partially thick\r\nWe can't take you serious, you a comedy skit\r\nYou probaly wish that you could be out shootin them G's\r\nBut the only thing you shoot is the breeze\r\nI can't believe you speaking on movin key's\r\nBut every time we hear you kick it \r\nThe only thing you sellin is wolf tickets\r\nI look wicked cause niggas will test your nut sack\r\nSo when they bust you better bust back \r\nAnd get your guts clapped outa your stomach\r\nAnd when they want it (yeah)\r\nI bring a hundred niggas from runave\r\nSo get your gun and if you comin\r\n\r\n\r\nCome on an everybody come on an\r\nKick your shoes off mother fuckers come on an\r\nCause we get it on an till the brick of dawn an\r\nWake your arse up mother fuckers quit yawnin\r\nCause we ain't leavin till 6 in tha mornin\r\nSo up an sing along with the words to the song an\r\nIf you don't know the words an you can't sing along an\r\nFake like you know em mother fuckers an join in\r\nEverybody come on an"},
{"year": "2003", "title": "Can I Bitch", "album": "\"Straight From The Lab\" (2003)", "lyrics": "Uncle Marshall!\r\nWill you tell us a bedtime story?\r\n\r\nHere we go...\r\n\r\nNow once upon a time not long ago\r\nThere was a little rapper about to blow\r\nBut his album came and it was not good\r\nI think it went lead or double copper wood\r\nSo the silly little fans they were mislead\r\nBy a nerdy internet computer hip-hop head\r\n\"Me and you, 'Clef, we're gonna make some cash\r\nGrab the silver paint and let's paint my ass\"\r\nHey mister, would ya care to bare witness to\r\nThe ass-whippin' I'm about to administer\r\nTo this ass-kissin' little vaginal blister\r\nStanabis, little Marshall Mathers' sister\r\nAnd in this corner, we have the mister\r\nNot havin' it, it's the mad sinister\r\nDr. Evil with his bag of tricks for\r\nthis little antagonist faggot dick-suckin'\r\nEx-LL Cool J fan from Windsor\r\nI'm 'bout to murder little Kenny fag Keniff-sta\r\nYou bastard I ain't wanna have to diss ya\r\nCanabis, where the fuck you at? I miss ya!\r\n\r\n\r\nCan-i-bitch, oh Can-i-bitch\r\nWhere for art thou Can-i-bitch?\r\nPlease tell me what happened with\r\nThat style that you were rappin' with\r\nCan-i-bitch, oh Can-i-bitch\r\nAre you from Los Angeles\r\nNew York or just a janitor\r\nFrom Canada? Oh Can-i-bitch\r\n\r\nNow at first I ain't really understand the shit\r\nPicture me for a second and imagine it\r\nChillin' in the Bat-Mansion and relaxin'\r\nWhen all a sudden some bullshit comes across the scanners\r\nIt's Can-i-bitch on some \"Stan Lives\" shit\r\nIt creeped me out at first. Man this is sick\r\nFor me, being just a sick, this conflict\r\nGets my dick harder than arithmetic\r\nAnd I know how you jealous ones envy\r\nI shoulda knew better from the first few letters you sent me\r\nThe first two letters you were tellin' me shit\r\nLike you respect me, like any other regular MC\r\nThe third letter you ask how come I ain't return\r\nNone of the messages at Shady Records you left me \r\nThe fourth letter: \"Slim, you really startin' to upset me!\" \r\nThe fifth letter told me you were comin' to get me \r\nThe sixth letter there's a bomb threat in our building \r\nThis crazy motherfucker's really tryin' to kill me! \r\nSo I went back and read the first few letters that said \r\nSome shit about a message you left \r\nOh shit, that's not an \"E\" that's an \"A\" \r\nThis dude wants to leave me a \"massage,\" he's gay!! \r\nRight away I'm on the phone with Dr. Dre \r\nWe got a bogey! (Marshall I'm on the way) \r\n\r\n\r\nCan-i-bitch, oh Can-i-bitch\r\nWhere for art thou Can-i-bitch?\r\nPlease tell me what happened with\r\nThat style that you were rappin' with\r\nCan-i-bitch, oh Can-i-bitch\r\nAre you from Los Angeles\r\nNew York or just a janitor\r\nFrom Canada? Oh Can-i-bitch \r\n\r\nSo in two seconds flat Dre's at my crib \r\nThe funny thing is we both know where this kid lives \r\nAnd neither one of us have Canadian citizenship \r\nShit. Oh Dre, wait a mintue that's it \r\nAll we gotta do is use a bit of turbo boost \r\nWe can fly over the border \"Let's go\" \r\nSo we're off to Toronto and we're gainin' speed \r\n (What was that? Oh) Jermaine Dupri \r\nFuck It, keep goin' no time to waste \r\nWait, backup hit him one more time in case \r\nOkay .. fuck now he's draggin' under the car \r\nOh well, only 30 more thousand miles \r\nMeanwhile me and Dre are tryin' to conversate \r\nJust tryin' to find a reason for the constant hate \r\nAnd tryin' to figure out what happened to 'Germaine Propaine' \r\n\"He couldn't have fell off that hard\" Ain't no way \r\n\"What happened to the way you was rappin' when you was scandalous \r\nThat Canibus turned into a television evangelist\" \r\nPlus he raps with his regular voice \r\n (What was that?) Pet Shop Boys \r\nSo we pull up to the bridge where he last was spotted \r\nHis corpse was still movin' but his ass was rotted \r\nHe kinda smelled a little like Courtney Love \r\nI figure if I stick him with a fork he's done \r\nSo I stabbed him twice, kept jabbin', Christ \r\nHe won't die, this guy's like a battered wife \r\nHe's like Kim, he keeps comin' back for more \r\nBut he won't fight back I cracked his jaw \r\nHold up, 'Bis quit foldin' up! \r\nPunch me in the chest! Make my shoulders touch! \r\nDo somethin'! At least one punchline \r\nC'mon till the meter reads 9-9-9-\r\nty-nine percent of my fans are blonde \r\n'Bis c'mon answer me man respond! \r\nTell me 'bout the sun rain moon and stars \r\nIntergalatical metaphors from Mars! \r\nRaw to the floor, raw like Reservoir Dogs \r\nBite another line from Redman's song! \r\nSuddenly the stub from a dead man's arm \r\nFrom a midget reaches out from under the car \r\nIt's JD, this motherfucker won't die neither \r\nDre starts sprayin' him with cans of ether \r\nWe stomped the bitch and then stopmed the bitch again \r\n(Compton!) Detroit bitch! Talk some shit again! \r\nStomp him! (switch feet) Stomp him! (switch again!) \r\nDre alright he's dead dog, quit kickin him! \r\nI think Stanabis jumped off the bridge again (Damn)\r\nHe disappeared yo he's gone he did it again \r\n\r\n\r\nCan-i-bitch, oh Can-i-bitch\r\nWhere for art thou Can-i-bitch?\r\nPlease tell me what happened with\r\nThat style that you were rappin' with\r\nCan-i-bitch, oh Can-i-bitch\r\nAre you from Los Angeles\r\nNew York or just a janitor\r\nFrom Canada? Oh Can-i-bitch"},
{"year": "2003", "title": "I Love You More", "album": "\"Straight From The Lab\" (2003)", "lyrics": "You still love me?\r\nTake this. \r\nYou ready? 1.. 2.. 3! \r\n\r\n\r\nThe more you, put me through,\r\nThe more it makes me wanna come back to you,\r\nYou say you hate me, I just love you more,\r\nYou don't want me, I just want you more,\r\nI buy you flowers, you throw 'em at me,\r\nI know it's sad but it's making me happy,\r\nThe more that you slap me, the more that it turns me on,\r\nCause you love me, and I love you more.\r\n\r\n\r\nIt's sick, but who could ever predict,\r\nWe'd be doin' the same shit,\r\nWe say we do it for our baby but we don't,\r\nWe do it for us, it's lust,\r\nCause neither one of us trusts each other,\r\nSo we fuck 'til we bust,\r\nThen we cuss each other, out,\r\nWe know what it's about,\r\nShout 'til I throw you out the house,\r\nYou throw me out the house,\r\nI throw you on the couch,\r\nPunch you in the mouth,\r\nFist fight 'til we turn this mother OUT,\r\nAnd apologize after,\r\nLaughter, pain, it's insane,\r\nWe're back in the same chapter again,\r\nAnd it's sad but it's true,\r\nWhen I'm layin' here with you,\r\nThere ain't nothin' anyone could ever say ever do.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nCause I hate you, do you hate me?\r\nGood cause you're so fuckin' beautiful when you're angry,\r\nIt makes me wanna just take you,\r\nAnd just throw you on the bed,\r\nAnd fuck you like I don't even know you,\r\nYou fuck other people, and I fuck other people,\r\nYou a slut but I'm equal, I'm a mutt,\r\nWe're both evil in our ways,\r\nBut neither one of us would ever admit it,\r\nCause one of us would have one up on the other,\r\nSo forget it,\r\nWe can make accusations, people spread rumors,\r\nBut they ain't got proof,\r\n'Til they do it's just the two of us,\r\nIt's you and me, cause any chick can say that she's screwin' me,\r\nBut you gotta believe me to a degree,\r\nCause true indeed if you didn't I wouldn't be hittin' it,\r\nYeah I would cause the sex is too damn good,\r\nIf I ran who would I run to,\r\nThat would be this soft and warm,\r\nSo it's off and on, usually more off than on,\r\nBut at least we know that we share this common bond,\r\nYou're the only one I can fuck without a condom on,\r\nI hope, the only reason that I cope,\r\nIs cause of that fact,\r\nAnd plus I can bust in that,\r\nAnd that's why...\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nI could never understand it,\r\nThat's why I don't try,\r\nFrom junior high until we both die,\r\nIt's silly ho why must we try,\r\nIs it really so rough,\r\nThat we must always call each other's billy goat's gruff,\r\nTry to pull each other's legs,\r\nUntil the other begs,\r\nWe're liein' to ourselves,\r\nThat's the beauty of it yeah,\r\nCause we truly love each other,\r\nThat's why we always fight,\r\nAnd all we do is shove each other,\r\nEvery other fuckin' night,\r\nAnd it's clear it ain't gonna change,\r\nIt's pent up rage,\r\nWe both have,\r\nWe both feel like we've been upstaged by someone else,\r\nWe've both been,\r\nSomeone else's someone else,\r\nProblem is neither one wants help,\r\nIt's an addiction and it can't be fixed,\r\nOur family's mixed up,\r\nThere's a baby sister in the mix,\r\nAnd it hurts cause the pieces to the puzzle don't fit,\r\nAnd anybody who thinks they know us doesn't know shit,\r\nAnd they're probably just tired of hearin' it all the time,\r\nOn every song, every lyric, and every rhyme,\r\nAll the hoopla, all of the whoopdy whoop,\r\nWhat you put me through, fuckin' whoopdy doo,\r\nBut I won't be made a fool of,\r\nIf this is true love,\r\nYou wouldn't do what,\r\nYou did last time,\r\nYou wouldn't screw up,\r\nThis time,\r\nCause this time girl,\r\nI'm telling you what,\r\nYou do it again I'm fucking you up,\r\nNo matter what...\r\n\r\n\r\nWhat you say, what you do,\r\nI'ma hunt you down 'til I find you,\r\nNo matter where you run, I'll be right there,\r\nRight behind you, in your nightmares,\r\nAll the flowers, and the candy,\r\nAll the times that you threw it back at me,\r\nYou told me you hate me, you're gonna hate me more,\r\nWhen you find out, can't escape me whore."},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Superman", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "Oh\nYou high baby?\nYeah\nYa\nTalk to me\nYou want me to tell you something?\nUh-huh\nI know what you want to hear...\n\n\n'Cause I know you want me baby, I think I want you too\n\"I think I love you baby,\" I think I love you too\nI'm here to save you girl, come be in Shady's world\nI want to grow together, let's let our love unfurl\nYou know you want me baby, you know I want you too\nThey call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you\nI want to save you girl, come be in Shady's world\n\"Ooh boy you drive me crazy,\" bitch you make me hurl...\n\n\nThey call me Superman, leap tall hoes in a single bound\nI'm single now, got no ring on this finger now\nI'd never let another chick bring me down in a relationship\nSave it bitch, babysit, you make me sick\nSuperman ain't savin' shit, girl you can jump on Shady's dick\nStraight from the hip, cut to the chase,\nI tell a motherfuckin' slut to her face\nPlay no games, say no names, ever since I broke up with what's her face\nI'm a different man, kiss my ass, kiss my lips, bitch why ask?\nKiss my dick, get my cash, I'd rather have you whip my ass\nDon't put out, I'll put you out, won't get out, I'll push you out\nPuss blew out, poppin' shit, wouldn't piss on fire to put you out\nAm I too nice? Buy you ice, bitch if you died, I wouldn't buy you life\nWhat you tryin' to be? My new wife? What you Mariah, fly through twice...\n\n\nBut I do know one thing though, bitches, they come they go\nSaturday through Sunday, Monday, Monday through Sunday yo\nMaybe I'll love you one day, maybe we'll someday grow\n'Til then just sit your drunk ass on that fuckin' runway ho...\n\n\n'Cause I can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman\nYour Superman, your Superman...\n\n\nDon't get me wrong, I love these ho's\nIt's no secret, everybody knows\nYeah we fucked, bitch so what?\nThat's about as far as your body goes\nWe'll be friends, I'll call you again, I'll chase you around every bar you attend\nNever know what kind of car I'll be in, we'll see how much you'll be partying then\nYou don't want that, neither do I,\nI don't want to flip when I see you with guys\nToo much pride, between you and I\nNot a jealous man, but females lie\nBut I guess that's just what sluts do, how could it ever be just us two\nI'd never love you enough to trust you, we just met and I just fucked you...\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFirst thing you say, \"I'm not fazed, I hang around big stars all day\nI don't see what the big deal is anyways\nYou're just plain old Marshall to me\"\nOoh ya' girl run that game\n\"Hailie Jade, I love that name, love that tattoo, what's that say?\"\n\"Rot in pieces, uh, that's great\"\nFirst off you don't know Marshall, at all so don't grow partial\nThat's ammo for my arsenal, I'll slap you off that bar stool\nThere goes another lawsuit, leave hand prints all across you\nGood Lordy whoadie, you must be gone off that water bottle\nYou want what you can't have, ooh girl that's too damn bad\nDon't touch what you can't grab, end up with two backhands\nPut anthrax on a Tampax, and slap you 'til you can't stand\nGirl you just blew your chance, don't mean to ruin your plans..."},
{"year": "2002", "title": "When The Music Stops", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "Music, reality, sometimes it's hard to tell the difference\r\nBut we as entertainers have a responsibility to these kids\r\nSike!\r\n\r\n\r\nIf I were to die murdered in cold blood tomorrow\r\nWould you feel sorrow or show love\r\nOr would it matter\r\nCan never be the lead-off batter of things\r\nShit for me to feed off\r\nI'm see-saw battling\r\nBut theres way too much at stake for me to be fake\r\nThere's too much on my plate\r\nAnd I came way too far in this game to turn and walk away\r\nAnd not say what I got to say\r\nWhat the fuck you take me for? a joke? you smoking crack?\r\nBefore I do that, I beg Mariah to take me back\r\nI get up 'for I get down, run myself in the ground, 'for I put some wack shit out\r\nI'm trying-a smack this one out the park, five-thousand mark\r\nYou all steady trying to drown the shark\r\nAin't gonna do nothing but piss me off\r\nLid to the can of whoop ass, just twist me off\r\nSee me leap out, pull the piece out, fuck shooting I'm just trying to knock his teeth out\r\nFuck with me now, bitch, let's see you freestyle\r\nTalk is cheap, motherfucker if you're really feeling froggish, leap\r\nYou're slim, you're gonna let him get away with that?\r\nHe tried to play you, you can't let him 'scape with that\r\nMan I hate this crap, this ain't rap,\r\nThis is crazy the way we act\r\nWhen we confuse hip-hop with real life when the music stops\r\n\r\n\r\nThere ain't no getting rid of McVeigh\r\nIf so you would've tried\r\nThe only way I'm leaving this bitch is suicide\r\nI have died clinically, arrived back at my enemy's crib with Hennessey,\r\nGot drunk then I finished he\r\nI'm every niggas favorite arch-enemy.\r\nPhysically fitted to be the most dangerous nigga with beef\r\nI spark willingly with a dillinger in the dark diligently\r\nI'm not what you think\r\nI appear to be fucked up\r\nMentally endangered\r\nI can't stay away from a razor\r\nI just want my face in a paper\r\nI wish a nigga had a grenade to squeeze tight to awake neighbors for acres\r\nI murder you\r\nDanger had me turned into a mad man, son of Sam, bitch, I'm surgical\r\nI'll allergic to dying, you think not? you got balls? We can see how large\r\nWhen the music stops\r\n\r\n\r\nI was happy having a deal at first,\r\nThought money would make me happy but\r\nIt only made my pain worst,\r\nIt hurts when you see your friends turn their back on you dawg\r\nWhen you ain't got nothing left but your word and your balls\r\nAnd you're stressed from the calls of your new friends\r\nBeggin' with they hands out\r\nChecking for your record when its selling\r\nWhen it ain't, that's the end, no laughs\r\nNo friends no girl\r\nJust the gin you drink till you car spin you then\r\n\r\nDamn!\r\n\r\nU slam into the wall and you fall\r\nOut the car, trying to crawl with one arm\r\nAbout to lose it all in a pool of alcohol\r\nIf my funeral's tomorrow, wonder if they would even call when the music stops\r\n\r\n\r\nLet's see how many of your men loyal,\r\nWhen I pull up looking for you,\r\nWith a pistol sipping on a can of pennzoil\r\nI'm revved up, who said what would lead bust your head would just explode\r\nWith red stuff I'm hand cuffed tossed in the paddy wagon\r\nBraggin about how you shot it like a coward, bullets devour you showered you\r\nNiggas, if I was you niggas, I'll run while given the chance\r\nUnderstand I can enchance the spirit of man\r\nDeath itself, it can't hurt me, just the thought of dying alone that really\r\nIrks me, you ain't worthy to speak thoughts of cheap talk\r\nBe smart and stop trying to walk how g's walk before we spark\r\nHug the floor while we plan tug-o-war with your life, fuck the tour and the mic\r\nI'll rather fuck a whore with a knife, deliver that shit the coroner's like\r\nYou high hype poppin' shit in broad day light nigga your a gonna at night\r\n\r\nWhen The Music Stops\r\n\r\n\r\nInstigators, turn pits in cages\r\nLet loose and bit the neighbours wrist to razors\r\nYou all don't want war, you want talk\r\nIn the dark my dogs all bark like woof\r\nProof nigga I'm a wolf, get your whole roof\r\nCaved in like reindeer hoofs\r\nStomped the roof shake the floor tiles loose\r\nThe more you all breach, the more I moves\r\nThis hill street, this is hardcore blues\r\nPut a gun to rap checking all our jewels (nigga)\r\nOr make the news betcha all you all move\r\nWhen the Uzi pop, you better drop when the music stop\r\n\r\n\r\nMusic's changed my life in so many ways\r\nBrains confused and fucked since the 5th grade\r\nLL told me to rock the bells\r\nNWA said fuck the police\r\nNow I'm in jail\r\n93 was strictly R&B\r\nFucked up hair cut\r\nListen to Jodeci\r\nMichael Jackson, who gonna tell me I ain't Mike\r\nAss cheeks painted white\r\nFucking Presilla at night\r\nFlying down sunset smoking crack\r\nTransvestite in the front\r\nEddi Murphy in the back\r\nMOP had me grindy and griddy\r\nMarilyn Manson, I dyed my hair blue\r\nAnd grew some titties\r\nLudacris told me to throw them bowls\r\nNow I'm in the hospital\r\nBroken nose and a fractured elbow\r\nVoices in my head, I'm going in shock,\r\nI'm reaching for the glock but the music stops"},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Without Me", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "\"Obie Trice/Real Name No Gimmicks\"\n\n\ntwo trailer park girls go 'round the outside, 'round the outside, 'round the outside\n\nGuess who's back, back again\nShady's back, tell a friend\nGuess who's back,\nguess who's back,\nguess who's back,\nguess who's back\nguess who's back\nGuess who's back...\n\n\nI've created a monster, 'cause nobody wants to\nsee Marshall no more they want Shady I'm chopped liver\nwell if you want Shady, this is what I'll give ya\na little bit of weed mixed with some hard liquor\nsome vodka that'll jumpstart my heart quicker than a\nshock when I get shocked at the hospital by the doctor when I'm not cooperating\nwhen I'm rocking the table while he's operating (hey!)\nyou waited this long now stop debating 'cause I'm back,\nI'm on the rag and ovulating\nI know that you got a job Ms. Cheney but your husband's heart problem's complicating\nSo the FCC won't let me be or let me be me so let me see\nthey tried to shut me down on MTV but it feels so empty without me\nSo come on dip, bum on your lips fuck that,\ncum on your lips and some on your tits and get ready 'cause this shit's about to get heavy\nI just settled all my lawsuits\nFUCK YOU, DEBBIE!\n\n\nNow this looks like a job for me so everybody just follow me\n'Cause we need a little controversy,\n'Cause it feels so empty without me\n\n\nLittle hellions kids feeling rebellious\nembarrassed, their parents still listen to Elvis\nthey start feeling like prisoners, helpless,\n'til someone comes along on a mission and yells \"bitch\"\nA visionary, vision is scary, could start a revolution, polluting the air waves a rebel\nso just let me revel and bask, in the fact that I got everyone kissing my ass\nand it's a disaster such a catastrophe for you to see so damn much of my ass you ask for me?\nWell I'm back \nfix your bent antennae tune it in and then I'm gonna\nenter in and up under your skin like a splinter\nThe center of attention back for the winter\nI'm interesting, the best thing since wrestling\nInfesting in your kids ears and nesting\nTesting \"Attention Please\"\nfeel the tension soon as someone mentions me\nhere's my 10 cents my 2 cents is free\nA nuisance, who sent, you sent for me?\n\n\n\n\nA tisk-it a task-it, I'll go tit for tat with anybody who's talking this shit, that shit.\nChris Kirkpatrick you can get your ass kicked\nworse than them little Limp Bizkit bastards, and Moby\nyou can get stomped by Obie, you 36 year old bald headed fag blow me\nYou don't know me, you're too old let go it's over, nobody listens to techno\nNow let's go, just give me the signal I'll be there with a whole list full of new insults\nI've been dope, suspenseful with a pencil ever since\nPrince turned himself into a symbol\nBut sometimes the shit just seems, everybody only wants to discuss me\nSo this must mean I'm disgusting, but it's just me I'm just obscene\nThough I'm not the first king of controversy\nI am the worst thing since Elvis Presley, to do Black Music so selfishly\nand use it to get myself wealthy (Hey)\nthere's a concept that works\n20 million other white rappers emerge\nbut no matter how many fish in the sea it'd be so empty without me\n\n\n\n(Hum dei dei la la Hum dei dei la la... la la la) \n\"Kids\""},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Say Goodbye Hollywood", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "Sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood\nSayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood\nSayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood\nSayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood\n{Hollywood}, sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood\n{Why do I feel this way}, sayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood\nSayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood\nSayin' goodbye, sayin' goodbye to Hollywood\n\n\nI thought I had it all figured out, I did\nI thought I was tough enough to stick it out with Kim\nBut I wasn't tough enough to juggle two things at once\nI found myself layin' on my knees in cuffs\nWhich should've been a reason enough, for me to get my stuff and just leave\nHow come I couldn't see this shit myself, it's just me\nNobody couldn't see the shit I felt\nKnowin' damn well she wasn't gonna be there when I fell, to catch me\nThe minute shit was heated she just bailed\ni'm standin' here swingin' on like thirty people by myself\nI couldn't even see the millimetere when it fell\nTurned around saw Gary stashin' the heater in his belt\nSaw the bouncers rush him and beat him to the ground\nI just sold two million records, I don't need to go to jail\nI'm not about to lose my freedom over no female\nI need to slow down\nTry to get my feet on solid ground, so for now i'm...\n\n\n\n\nBury my face in comic books, cause I don't want to look\nAt nothin', this world's too much\nI've swallowed all I could\nIf I could swallow a bottle of tylenol I would, and end it for good\nJust say goodbye to Hollywood\nI probably should, these problems are piling all at once\nCause everything that bothers me, I got it bottled up\nI think i'm bottomin' out\nBut i'm not about to give up, I gotta get up\nThank God, I got a little girl\nAnd I'm a responsible father\nSo not a lot of good, i'd be to my daughter layin' in the bottom of the mud\nMust be in my blood cause I don't know how I do it\nAll I know is I don't want to follow in the footsteps of my dad\nCause I hate him so bad\nThe worst fear that I had was growin' up to be like his fuckin' ass, man\nIf you could understand why I am the way that I am\nWhat do I say to my fans, when I tell 'em i'm...\n\n\n\n\nI don't wanna quit, but shit, I feel like this is it\nFor me to have this much appeal like this is sick\nThis is not a game, this fame, in real life this is sick\nPublicity stunt my ass, conceal my fuckin' dick\nFuck the guns, i'm done, i'll never look at gats\nIf I scrap, i'll scrap like I ain't never whooped some ass\nI love my fans\nBut no one ever puts a grasp on the fact i've sacrificed everything I have\nI never dreamt i'd get to the level that i'm at, this is whack\nThis is more than I ever could of asked\neverywhere I go, a hat, a sweater hood, or mask\nWhat about math, how come I wasn't ever good at that\nIt's like the boy in the bubble, who never could adapt, i'm trapped\nIf I could go back, I never woulda rapped\nI sold my soul to the devil, i'll never get it back\nI just wanna leave this game with level head intact\nImagine goin' from bein' a no one to seein',\neverything blow up and all you did was just grow\nup emceeing\nIt's fuckin' crazy\nCause all I wanted was to give Hailie the life I never had\nBut instead I forced us to live alienated, so i'm sayin'...\n\n\n\n\nGoodbye, goodbye Hollywood, {Goodbye},\nplease don't cry for me, when i'm gone for good,\n{this shit is not for me},\nso goodbye, goodbye Hollywood,\n{i'm not a fuckin' star},\nplease don't cry for me, when I'm gone for good,\n{i'm goin' back home}..."},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Curtains Up (Skit)", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": ""},
{"year": "2000", "title": "Marshall Mathers", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "You know I just don't get it\nLast year I was nobody\nThis year I'm sellin records\nNow everybody wants to come around like I owe em somethin\nHeh, the fuck you want from me, ten million dollars?\nGet the fuck out of here\n\n\n\nYou see I'm, just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)\nI'm just a regular guy,\nI don't know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me)\nNobody ever gave a fuck before,\nall they did was doubt me (did was doubt me)\nNow everybody wanna run they mouth\nand try to take shots at me (take shots at me)\n\n\nYo, you might see me joggin, you might see me walkin\nYou might see me walkin a dead rottweiler dog\nwith it's head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar\nhollerin at him cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin\n(grrrr, ARF ARF) Or leanin out a window, with a cocked shotgun\nDrivin up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in\nLookin for Big's killers, dressed in ridiculous\nblue and red like I don't see what the big deal is\nDouble barrel twelve gauge bigger than Chris Wallace\nPissed off, cause Biggie and 'Pac just missed all this\nWatchin all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em\nand get dollars that shoulda been there's like they switched wallets\nAnd amidst all this Crist' poppin and wristwatches\nI just sit back and just watch and just get nauseous\nand walk around with an empty bottle of Remi Martin\nstartin shit like some 26-year-old skinny Cartman (\"God damnit!\")\nI'm anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin\nwith instincts to kill N'Sync, don't get me started\nThese fuckin brats can't sing and Britney's garbage\nWhat's this bitch retarded? Gimme back my sixteen dollars\nAll I see is sissies in magazines smiling\nWhatever happened to whylin out and bein violent?\nWhatever happened to catchin a good-ol' fashioned\npassionate ass-whoopin and gettin your shoes coat and your hat tooken?\nNew Kids on the Block, sucked a lot of dick\nBoy/girl groups make me sick\nAnd I can't wait 'til I catch all you faggots in public\nI'ma love it.. (hahaha)\nVanilla Ice don't like me (uh-uh)\nSaid some shit in Vibe to spite me (yup)\nThen went and dyed his hair just like me (hehe)\nA bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me\nand run around screamin, \"I don't care, just bite me\" (nah nah)\nI think I was put here to annoy the world\nand destroy your little 4-year-old boy or girl\nPlus I was put here to put fear in faggots who spray Faygo Root Beer\nand call themselves \"Clowns\" cause they look queer\nFaggot2Dope and Silent Gay\nClaimin Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away (fuckin punks)\nAnd I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin faggots the fuck out\nAsk 'em about the club they was at when they snuck out\nafter they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out\n(AHHH!) Ducked down and got paintballs shot at they truck, blaow!\nLook at y'all runnin your mouth again\nwhen you ain't seen a fuckin Mile Road, South of 10\nAnd I don't need help, from D-12, to beat up two females\nin make-up, who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails\n\"Slim Anus,\" you damn right, Slim Anus\nI don't get fucked in mine like you two little flaming faggots!\n\n\n\nCause I'm, just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)\nI'm not a wrestler guy,\nI'll knock you out if you talk about me (you talk about me)\nCome and see me on the streets alone\nif you assholes doubt me (assholes doubt me)\nAnd if you wanna run your mouth\nthen come take your best shot at me (your best shot at me)\n\n\nIs it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?\nYou little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy\nNow because of this blonde mop that's on top\nand this fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop?\nThe underground just spunned around and did a 360\nNow these kids diss me and act like some big sissies\n\"Oh, he just did some shit with Missy,\nso now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with MC Get-Bizzy\"\nMy fuckin bitch mom's suin for ten million\nShe must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin\nShit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?\nAll I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress\nWhich is it bitch, Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?\nIt doesn't matter your  faggot!\nTalkin about I fabricated my past\nHe's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass (Uhh!)\nSo tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?\nFor every million I make, another relative sues\nFamily fightin and fussin over who wants to invite me to supper\nAll the sudden, I got 90 some cousins (Hey it's me!)\nA half-brother and sister who never seen me\nor even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV\nNow everybody's so happy and proud\nI'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house\nHey-hey! And then to top it off, I walked to the newsstand\nto buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp\nSkipped to the last page, flipped right fast\nand what do I see? A picture of my big white ass\nOkay, let me give you motherfuckers some help:\nuhh, here - DOUBLE XL, DOUBLE XL\nNow your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell\nAhh fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself"},
{"year": "2000", "title": "Public Service Announcement 2000 (Skit)", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "This is another public service announcement \nBrought to you in part by Slim Shady \n(Tell 'em I don't give a fuck) \nSlim Shady does not give a fuck what you think \n(Tell 'em to suck it) \n\nIf you don't like it you can suck his fucking cock \n(Tell 'em they kissed my ass) \nLittle did you know upon purchasing this album \nYou have just kissed his ass! \n(Tell 'em I'm fed up) \n\nSlim Shady is fed up with your shit \nAnd he's going to kill you \n(Yeah) \nUh, anything else? \n\nYeah, sue me!"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Bad Meets Evil", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "I reckon you ain't familiar with these here parts\nYou know, there's a story behind that there saloon\nTwenty years ago, two outlaws took this whole town over\nSheriffs couldn't stop 'em\nQuickest damn gun-slingers I've ever seen\nGot murdered in cold-blood\nThat old saloon there was their little \"home away from home\"\nThey say the ghosts of Bad and Evil still live in that tavern\nAnd on a quiet night\nYou can still hear the footsteps of Slim Shady and Royce da 5'9\"\n\n\nI don't speak, I float in the air wrapped in a sheet\nI'm not a real person, I'm a ghost trapped in a beat\nI translate when my voice is read through a seismograph\nAnd a noise is spread, picked up and transmitted through Royce's head\nTrap him in his room, possess him and hoist his bed\nTil the evilness flows through his blood like poisonous lead\nTold him each one of his boys is dead\nI asked him to come to the dark side\nHe made a choice and said...\n\n\nWho hard? Yo I done heard worse\nWe can get in two cars and accelerate at each other\nTo see which one'll swerve first\nTwo blind bandits panic whose mental capacity holds\nThat of a globe on top of nine other planets\nKissed the cheek of the Devil\nIntelligence level is hellier than treble peaking on speakers in the ghetto\nDismissal, I'm not a fair man\nDisgraced the race of an atheist\nIntercepting missiles with my bare hands like a patriot\nOne track sliced without swords\nI buried the Christ corpse\nIn my past life when the black knight mounted the white horse\nAnd stay over-worked, it's like the Nazis and the Nation\nCollaborating attempting to take over the Earth\n\n\nCause this is what happens when Bad meets Evil\nAnd we hit the trees til we look like Vietnamese people\nHe's Evil, and I'm Bad like Steve Seagal\nAbove the law cause I don't agree with police either (Shit, me neither)\nWe ain't eager to be legal\nSo please leave me with the keys to your Jeep Eagle\nI breathe ether in three lethal amounts\nWhile I stab myself in the knee with a diseased needle\nReleasing rage on anybody in squeezing range\nCold enough to make the seasons change into freezing rain\n(He's insane)\nNo I'm not, I just want to shoot up and I'm pissed off\nCause I can't find a decent vein\n\n\nThe disaster with dreads\nI'm bad enough to commit suicide\nAnd survive long enough to kill my soul after I'm dead\nWhen in danger, it's funny, actually my flavor's similar to a waiter\nCause I serve any stranger with money\nI spray a hundred, man until they joint chains\nWhile slipping bullets at point-blank range like they was punches\nPiss on a flag and burn it, murder you then come to your funeral\nService lobby and strangle your body to confirm it\nWhipping human ass, throwing blows, cracking jaws\nWith my fists wrapped in gauze, dipped in glue and glass\nI'm blazing MCs, at the same time amazing MCs\nSomehow, MCs ain't that eyebrow-raising to me\nFrom all of angles of us, flash a Mack loud enough\nTo cast a avalanche and bust till volcanoes erupt\n\n\n\nHello? (Billy) Aiyyo what's up (we're comin to get you)\nSTOP, THEY KNOW IT'S US!!\n\n\nI used to be a loudmouth, remember me?\nI'm the one who burned your house down, well I'm out now\nAnd this time I'm coming back to blow your house up\nAnd I ain't gon' leave you a window to jump out of\nGive me two fat tabs and three shrooms\nAnd you won't see me like fat people in steam rooms\nAnd when I go to hell and I'm getting ready to leave\nI'ma put air in a bag and charge people to breathe\n\n\nCause this is what happens when Bad meets Evil\nAnd we hit the trees 'til we look like Vietnamese people\nHe's Evil, and I'm Bad like Steve Seagal\nAgainst peaceful, see you in hell for the sequel\n(We'll be waiting) See you in hell\nWall Street, Royce Da 5'9\", Slim Shady\nSee you in hell for the sequel (bye-bye)\nBad Meets Evil, what ('til next time)\n\n\nAnd so that's the story when Bad meets Evil\nTwo of the most wanted individuals in the county\nMade Jesse James and Billy the Kid look like law-abiding citizens\nIt's too bad they had to go out the way they did\nGot shot in the back coming out of that old saloon\nBut their spirits still live on till this day\nShhh... wait, did y'all hear that?"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "I'm Shady", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "Who came through with two glocks to terrorize your borough (huh?)\nTold you how to slap dicks and murder your girl (I did!)\nGave you all the finger and told you to sit and twirl\nSold a billion tapes and still screamed, \"Fuck the world!\"\n(I'm Slim Shady..) so come and kill me while my name's hot\nAnd shoot me twenty-five times in the same spot (Ow!)\nI think I got a generation brainwashed\nto pop pills and smoke pot til they brains rot (uhh-oh)\nStop they blood flow until they veins clot\nI need a pain shot, and a shot of plain scotch\nPurple haze and acid raindrops\nSpike the punch at the party and drink pop (gulp gulp)\nShaved my armpits and wore a tank top\nBad Boy, I told you that I can't stop\nYou gotta make em fear you 'fore you make em feel you\nSo everybody buy my shit or I'ma come and kill you\n\nI got mushrooms, I got acid, I got tabs and aspirin tablets\nI'm your brother when you need, some good weed to set you free\nYou know me, I'm your friend, when you need a minithin\n(I'm Slim Shady..) I'm Shady!!\n\n\nI like happy things, I'm really calm and peaceful (uh-huh huh)\nI like birds, bees, I like people\nI like funny things that make me happy and gleeful (hehehe)\nlike when my teacher sucked my wee-wee in preschool (Woo!)\nThe ill type, I stab myself with a steel spike\nwhile I blow my brain out, just to see what it feels like\ncause this is how I am in real life (mm-hmm)\nI don't want to just die a normal death, I wanna be killed twice (uh-huh)\nHow you gonna scare somebody with a gun threat\nwhen they high off of drugs they haven't even done yet (Huh?)\nSo bring the money by tonight - cause your wife \nsaid this the biggest knife she ever saw in her life (Help me! Help me!)\nI try to keep it positive and play it cool\nShoot up the playground and tell the kids to stay in school (Stay in school!)\nCause I'm the one they can relate to and look up to better\nTonight I think I'll write my biggest fan a fuck you letter\n\nI got mushrooms, I got acid, I got tabs and aspirin tablets\nI'm your brother when you need, some good weed to set you free\nYou know me, I'm your friend, when you need a minithin\n(I'm Slim Shady..) I'm Shady!!\n\n\nYo.. I listen to your demo tape and act like I don't like it \n(Aww that shit is wack!)\nSix months later you hear your lyrics on my shit \n(What?? That's my shit!)\nPeople don't buy shit no more they just dub it\nThat's why I'm still broke and had the number one club hit (Yup, uh huh)\nBut they love it when you make your business public\nso fuck it, I've got herpes while we on the subject (uh-huh)\nAnd if I told you I had AIDS y'all would play it\ncause you stupid motherfuckers think I'm playin when I say it\n-- Well, I do take pills, don't do speed\nDon't do crack (uh-uhh) don't do coke, I do smoke weed (uh-huh)\nDon't do smack, I do do shrooms, do drink beer (yup)\nI just wanna make a few things clear\nMy baby mama's not dead (uh-uhh) she's still alive and bitchin (yup)\nAnd I don't have herpes, my dick's just itchin\nIt's not syphilis, and as for being AIDS infested\nI don't know yet, I'm too scared to get tested\n\nI got mushrooms, I got acid, I got tabs and aspirin tablets\nI'm your brother when you need, some good weed to set you free\nYou know me, I'm your friend, when you need a minithin\n(I'm Slim Shady..) I'm Shady!!\n(Ha hah-ha, ha! Ha hah, hah..) I told you I was Shady!!\n(Ha hah-ha, hah-ha! Ha hah, hah-ha, hah-ha, hah-ha)\nY'all didn't wanna believe me!\nI'm Shady!!\n.. And that's my name"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Bitch (Skit)", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "Justin? \nIt's Zoe um \nKelly did not have me call however I just listened to Eminem in her car and \nIt is the most DISGUSTING, thing I have ever heard in my entire life \nAnd I seriously wanna call his fucking agent \nAnd tell him how FUCKING disgusting he is \nIt like makes me upset\nI'm now nauseous and I can't eat lunch\nGoodbye"},
{"year": "1998", "title": "No One's Iller Than Me", "album": "\"Slim Shady EP\" (1998)", "lyrics": "Yeah...ha ha ha (BANG!), Yeah, Bizarre Kid comin' at you\nEminem and Fuzz, and Mr. Swifty, ha ha\n\nNo one's iller than me (wha?)\nNo one, no one is iller than me\nNo one is iller than me\nIt's Mr. Swifty from the 313...\n\n\nI make rappers wanna turn into singers\nI keep hoes lickin' they fingers\nBring this competition and face this meanin' \nGot your whole crew doing subpeonas\nHell nah you ain't seen a crew genius\nMurder whoever's between us, pack your heaters\nKeep it close, you can't beat us\nWhile your whole crew treat us like G's, you best believe this\nI done made quadrapalegics outta these non-rappin rejects\nWhile the whole world ejects your tape, it ain't no secret\nThat your shit sounds fake, you can't stop it my mind state\nMakes it too late for cops in tryin' to stop the crime rate\nI'm like Two-Face, I'm painful to rappers then you can tell\nFrom these shells, how I gotta bend 'em like route canals\nI erase all trails, somethin' farther from gettin' bail\nMakes you wanna kill an emcee yourself, you might as well\nBe within a 25 to life sentence, on linkin' trials\nHorrified, and keep on frontin', repentin' and lose they bowels\nEverything is foul when Swift's around, vacate now\nNiggas dumb enough to try to front and escape, how?\nI'm gonna take this 'gnac and drink it straight wild\nNiggas steady fallin' in my face like milk crates, BLAAAOW!\n\nIt's Swifty from the 313\nLike I said no one is iller than me, unnhh!\n\n\nMe and Eminem and Mike\nDrivin' down Van Dyke\nGet my dick sucked late at night by a fuckin' transvestite\nStill on probation for stranglin' my boy Jason\nShould be takin' my medication, it's 9 to 10 I'm facin'\nLast week this old man I had to blast\nCuz he tried to help me out when my car was out of gas\nRipped this old lady, hung her neck by a hook\nDidn't realize it was my grandmother 'til I checked her pocketbook\nFuckin' with the white boys got me back on crack\nBetter explain where the hell your TVs and VCRs is at\nI done lost 100 pounds, I ain't been eatin' like I should\nThis wounded dog in the street is sure lookin' good!\nRob this little boy in his fuckin' paper route \nThrowin' bottles at day care centers and yell \"EVERYBODY GET OUT\"!\nMy girl beat my ass and shot me in the back with a 2-piece\nCuz she found out I was havin' an affair with her 10-year old niece\n\nNo one, no one's iller than me\nIt's Bizarre Kid straight from the 313\nNo one, no one is iller than me\nIt's Bizarre Kid straight from the 313\n\n\nNobody better test me, cuz I don't wanna get messy\nEspecially when I step inside this bitch, dick freshly\nNew Lugz, give the crew hugs, guzzle two mugs\nBefore I do drugs that make me throw up like flu bugs\nTrue thugs, rugged unshaven messy scrubs\nWhippin' 40-bottles like the fuckin' Pepsi clubs\nDown a fifth, crack open a six\nI'm on my seventh 8-ball, now I gotta take a piss\nI'm hollerin' at these hoes that got boyfriends\nWho gives a fuck who they was\nI'm always takin' someone else's girl like Cool J does\nThey probably don't be packin' anyways, do they Fuzz?\nWe walked up, stomped they asses and blew they buzz\nMics get sandblasted\nStab your abdomen with a hand crafted pocketknife and spill your antacid\nSprayed your motherfuckin' crib up when I ran past it\nFuckin' felon, headed to hell in a handbasket\nTalkin' shit will get you, your girl and your man blasted\nKidnapped and slapped in a van wrapped in Saran plastic\nGet your damn ass kicked, by these fantastic\nFurious four motherfuckers\nFlashin' in front of your face without the Grand Masters\n\nSlim Shady, ain't nobody iller than me\n\n\nI run shit like an ass with legs\nMassive lead to leave your cabbage red\nSimilar to your ass in a casket dead\nDrastic spread of acid heads\nCome to abort you like a bastard egg\nThat trash you said got you standin' on plastic legs\nAsk the feds from past the edge\nRockin' the most classic threads\nFlashin' bread, roll down the window\nBitch you got some fantastic legs, you can get 'til that ass get red\nYou can get 'til that ass get red\nBizarre you get him and him, Swift you get him and him\nI'll get him and him, leave the other two for my nigga Eminem\nNever writer's block, I block writers\nMy block's tighter, ante up and get your top fighters\nGot fired for jumpin' the counter with a mop stick\nSome bitch ran up screamin' GET THE COPS QUICK!\nAnd got drop kicked, now she screamin' \"Stop it...\"\nGot clips to stop shit, rock shit and grab this hot shit\nWherever you shop bitch, Fuzz Scooter '97 crop pick\nSick a-ya'll niggaz lookin' at me like I got tits\nI shoot a rocket through your optic\nYou niggaz still don't know the top pick?\nI got bricks, lose my foot in your ass\nAnd have you shittin' socks bitch!\nWe rock shit, leave your fuckin' knot split\nGrab the green from Al by showin' him hot grits\n(No one...)\n\nAin't nobody iller than me\n\n\nIt's the Mr. Fuzzy from the 313\nNo one, no one is iller than me\nIt's Eminem and Swift from the 313\nNo one, no one is iller than me\nIt's Fuzz and Buzz-arre from the 313\n\nYou have now witnessed 4 ill emcees!\nFrom the home of potholes and trash\nWe'll lyrically blast..."},
{"year": "1998", "title": "Just The Two Of Us", "album": "\"Slim Shady EP\" (1998)", "lyrics": "Just the two of us.. \n\n\nBaby your da-da loves you (hey)\nAnd I'ma always be here for you (hey) no matter what happens\nYou're all I got in this world\nI would never give you up for nothin\nNobody in this world is ever gonna keep you from me\nI love you\n\nC'mon Hai-Hai, we goin to the beach\nGrab a couple of toys and let da-da strap you in the car seat\nOh where's mama? She's takin a little nap in the trunk\nOh that smell (whew!) da-da musta runned over a skunk\nNow I know what you're thinkin - it's kind of late to go swimmin\nBut you know your mama, she's one of those type of women\nthat do crazy things, and if she don't get her way, she'll throw a fit\nDon't play with da-da's toy knife, honey, let go of it (no!)\nAnd don't look so upset, why you actin bashful?\nDon't you wanna help da-da build a sand castle? (yeah!)\nAnd mama said she wants to show how far she can float\nAnd don't worry about that little boo-boo on her throat\nIt's just a little scratch - it don't hurt, her was eatin\ndinner while you were sweepin and spilled ketchup on her shirt\nMama's messy isn't she? We'll let her wash off in the water\nand me and you can pway by ourselves, can't we?\n\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\n\nSee honey.. there's a place called heaven and a place called hell\nA place called prison and a place called jail\nAnd da-da's probably on his way to all of em except one\nCause mama's got a new husband and a stepson\nAnd you don't want a brother do ya? (Nah)\nMaybe when you're old enough to understand a little better\nI'll explain it to ya\nBut for now we'll just say mama was real real bad\nShe was bein mean to dad and made him real real mad\nBut I still feel sad that I put her on time-out\nSit back in your chair honey, quit tryin to climb out (WAHH!)\nI told you it's okay HaiHai, wanna ba-ba? \nTake a night-night? Nan-a-boo, goo-goo ga-ga?\nHer make goo-goo ca-ca? Da-da change your dia-dee\nClean the baby up so her can take a nighty-nighty\nYour dad'll wake her up as soon as we get to the water\nNinety-seven Bonnie and Clyde, me and my daughter\n\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\n\nWake up sweepy head we're here, before we pway\nwe're gonna take mama for a wittle walk along the pier\nBaby, don't cry honey, don't get the wrong idea\nMama's too sweepy to hear you screamin in her ear (ma-maa!)\nThat's why you can't get her to wake, but don't worry\nDa-da made a nice bed for mommy at the bottom of the lake\nHere, you wanna help da-da tie a rope around this rock? (yeah!)\nWe'll tie it to her footsie then we'll roll her off the dock\nReady now, here we go, on the count of free..\nOne.. two.. free.. WHEEEEEE! (whoooooshhhhh)\nThere goes mama, spwashin in the wa-ta\nNo more fightin wit dad, no more restraining order\nNo more step-da-da, no more new brother\nBlow her kisses bye-bye, tell mama you love her (mommy!)\nNow we'll go play in the sand, build a castle and junk\nBut first, just help dad with two more things out the trunk\n\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\n\nJust the two of us.. \n\n\nJust me and you baby\nis all we need in this world\nJust me and you\nYour da-da will always be there for you\nYour da-da's always gonna love you\nRemember that\nIf you ever need me I will always be here for you\nIf you ever need anything, just ASK\nDa-da will be right there\nYour da-da loves you\nI love you baby"},
{"year": "1996", "title": "313", "album": "\"Infinite\" (1996)", "lyrics": "Now what you know about a sweet MC, from the 313\nNone of these skills you bout to see come free\nSo you wanna be a sweet MC, you gotta become me\nIf you ever wanna be one see\n\n Man what you know about a sweet MC, in the 313\nNone of these skills you bout to see come free\nSo you wanna be a sweet MC, you better become me\nIf you ever wanna be one see\n\n\nYo some people say I'm whack, now if that's right \nI'm the freshest whack MC that you ever heard, in your lifetime\nMy slick accapella sounds clever with the beats\nBoy I'm the deepest thing since potholes to ever hit the streets\nForgot a gold digger's succubus , my souls thick with ruggedness\nWith the mic I'm like a dyke, can't no nigga fuck with this\nI got more Different Strokes than Philip Drummound\nOn open mic I bone your women just to keep my lyrics coming (bitch)\nWe elevated to new heights premeditated \nLet it be that I stated they hate it now that they see that I made it\nThe escalated can be put to the test of greatness\nSnatch the heart from MC's and I ate it\nSo I take it that's the reason I'm hated\nTo represent my temperment\nIf rap was a dick all you so called hard MC's would not be impitant\nBut pimping it, and acting like you could rock a show (so)\nHarder than LL's Rock the Bells, but you is a ho (now)\nEverything that you collaborate I lacerate \nMy rhymes they keep coming like nympho maniacs that masturbate\nAt a faster rate, yeah I got something for your ass to hate\nI blasterate, and have you all running master gates\nAnd as for face clutching and touching the flows\nI got them open like marijuana smoke up in your nose\nBucking these hoes, I got that shit down to a science\nLeaving them hot and bothered, turned on like an appliance \nDefiance, no we won't have that\nYou want your shit to blow up?\nWell I'ma stuff some dynamite in your ass crack \nAnd blast that shit to kingdom come\nThen bring them some of this real hip-hop \nI drop beats and you ain't singing or gonna do a thing about\nAnd you all knew from Meeko\nThat you couldn't hold your own with the strength of Lou Forigno\nSo stop that bullshit and flow\nYo, you need to come with the real skills, and act like you know\n\n\nSo what you know about a sweet MC, in the 313\nNone of these skills you bout to see come free\nSo you wanna be a sweet MC, you better become me\nIf you ever wanna be one see\n\n Now what you know about a sweet MC, from the 313\nNone of these skills you bout to see come free\nSo you wanna be the sweet MC, you gotta become me\nIf you ever wanna be one see\n\n\nSo what, you know about a sweet MC, in the 313\nYou don't know shit so when you see one flee\nYou can be Run-D, you'll never beat the MC\nI'll stop the alphabet at S and got it down to a T\nI'm sure your bound to agree, a sweet MC crashes the spot\nI'll make the roof hot like I was Rock Master Scott\nYour ass forgot, so just in case you don't remember me\nI'll run your brain around the block to jog your fucking memory\nIt's either them or me man, kill or be killed\nYou will and be sealed your casket closed you still gonna be billed\nMy facilities filled with fans, packed to capacity\nI'll send a rapper back with the crack of his ass shitty\nIf he's acting soft and he cowers\nHe better come cleaner then Jay Rue jacking off when he showers\nYou flowers got no clout with a thing\nYou could date a stick of dynamite and wouldn't go out with a bang\nI shout the slang, simple as A,B,C's\nSkip over the D's and rock the microphone with E's\nDethrone MC's and I'ma max alone\nRelax your dome like a solo from a saxophone\nSo facts are known, writers get treated with shocks\nI rock a beat harder then you could beat it with rocks\nI'm greeted with flocks, of fellow follower's singers\nYou couldn't make the fans throw up their hands if they swallowed their \nfingers\nBut you can bring yours let's see what you got\nBut don't front and never try to be what you're not\nCause you can be quick, jump the candlestick, burn your back\nAnd fuck Jill on a hill, but you still ain't Jack \n\n\nSo what you know about a sweet MC, from the 313\nNone of these skills you just seen come free\nSo you wanna be a sweet MC, you'll never become"},
{"year": "1996", "title": "Tonight", "album": "\"Infinite\" (1996)", "lyrics": "Tonight, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight\n\n\nI'm getting mad love, I'm snuggling hugs\nDruggling thugs, smuggling drugs, juggling jobs, guzzling jugs\nSo here's a toast to federal checks\nHetero sex, unaffordable medical debts, huh\nWe travel in packs and ravel in facts and gravel in cracks\nTo find babbling Max, gaffling tracks\nI grapple an axe for them baffling acts\nThe mysterious stab in the backs who dabble in wax\nStill in my yard when I sculpted the culprit\nThe tall shit that will end up with his skull split\nThen I buried the hatchet, I carried on my back \nButterfingers is here and it's necessary to scratch it\nBaby all I wanna do is swallow one and two\nSmoke a little bit and follow one of you \nBack home when the party ends\nSo tonight I'm dropping naughty hints\nTo the finest women in the audience\n\n\n\nTonight, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight (blends in with lyrics)\n\n \nCause we came here to do this tonight\nWe don't wanna fight, we don't want no one feeling uptight\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nTill the morning light hope that everyone's feeling alright\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nWe don't wanna fight, we don't want no one feeling uptight\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nTill the morning light hope that everyone's feeling alright\n\n\nAyo, biters are like tarantulas, vandealous\nLiving as scandalous as a television evangelist\nBut I can handle this, I'm the rhyme biter crime fighter\nCaped crusader, taking care of undeserving lime lighters\nI think a living never meant for me\nExperimentally I found a way to spread interamentally\nWhen I stumbled upon this resolution\nBy using a special fusion of chemical solution for this resolution\nYou couldn't see me with binoculars\nI armed like an octopus\nStep on stage and you get socked and pushed\nTalking that junk like you went black, guarded your back\nCome battle me and you get smacked as hard as you act\nWhen I rap I represent it and will never referee in it\nEvery minute so when I win it you never resent it\nI'm forever demented, come up with funk, I'll never be scented\nYou got the point when I cleverly said it\n\n\n\nTonight, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight (blends in with lyrics)\n\n \nCause we came here to do this tonight\nWe don't wanna fight, we don't want no one feeling uptight\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nTill the morning light hope that everyone's feeling alright\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nWe don't wanna fight, we don't want no one feeling uptight\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nTill the morning light hope that everyone's feeling alright\n\n\nEminem is heading skyward\nFor those who thought that I would make you bored and treat you like a piece \nof plywood\nI've got miracle lyrical capability all in me\nWith the agility to escape a killer bee colony\nSo get your cameras and capture how miraculous \nI rap for all you Draculas and showed you all how whack you was\nI meant it as a dis, cause you don't posses the pizzazz as this\nI'm hazardous enough already as it is\nWithout you adding fuel to the fire\nI'm cruel to the liar\nWho fails to recognize my reign of hell, rule to the sire\nClinical studies show that I'm cynical\nThere's no one who's identical to my fresh and authentic flow\nI'm sure the party people can agree\nThat I'm enchanting, with the romantic\nFreaking the vocals so frantically\nSo throw your hands up in the atmosphere\nAnd let them know the only party that was phat was here, just be like\n\n\n\nTonight, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight (blends in with lyrics)\n\n \nCause we came here to do this tonight\nWe don't wanna fight, we don't want no one feeling uptight\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nTill the morning light hope that everyone's feeling alright\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nWe don't wanna fight, we don't want no one feeling uptight\nCause we came here to do this tonight\nTill the morning light hope that everyone's feeling alright"},
{"year": "1996", "title": "It's Ok", "album": "\"Infinite\" (1996)", "lyrics": "Check it out, \n Hey Kyu!\n\n\n\nIt's a broke day but everything is ok (It's ok)\nI'm up all night, but everything is alright (It's alright)\nIt's a rough week, and I don't get enough sleep (I can't sleep)\nIt's a long year pretending I belong here (Belong here)\nIt's a broke day but everything is ok (It's ok)\nI'm up all night, but everything is alright (It's alright)\nIt's a rough week, and I don't get enough sleep (I can't sleep)\nIt's a long year pretending I belong here (Belong here)\n\n\nOne day I plan to be a family man happily married\nI wanna grow to be so old that I have to be carried\nTill I'm glad to be buried \nAnd leave this crazy world\nAnd have at least a half a million for my baby girl\nIt may be early to be planning this stuff\nCause I'm still struggling hard to be the man, and it's tough\nCause man it's been rough, but still I manage enough\nI've been taken advantage of, damaged and scuffed\nMy hands have been cuffed\nBut I don't panic and huff, frantic and puff\nOr plan to give up, the minute shit hits the fan it erupts\nI'm anteing up double or nothing, I've been trouble enough\nAnd I'm sick of struggling and suffering, see\nMy destiny's to rest at ease, till I'm impressed and pleased\nWith my progress, I won't settle for less than cheese\nI'm on a quest to seize all, my own label to call\nWay before my baby is able to crawl\nI'm too stable to fall, the pressure motivates\nTo know I hold the weight of boulders on my shoulder blades\nI seen the golden gates to heaven on Earth\nWhere they don't pull a weapon on you when you stepping on turf, Q\n\n\n\nIt's a broke day but everything is ok (It's ok)\nI'm up all night, but everything is alright (It's alright)\nIt's a rough week, and I don't get enough sleep (I can't sleep)\nIt's a long year pretending I belong here (Belong here)\nIt's a broke day but everything is ok (It's ok)\nI'm up all night, but everything is alright (It's alright)\nIt's a rough week, and I don't get enough sleep (I can't sleep)\nIt's a long year pretending I belong here (Belong here)\n\n\nI'm going for broke, gambling and playing for keeps\nEveryday in the streets, scrambling and paying for cheep \nPraying for sleep\nDreaming with a watering mouth\nWishing for a better life for my daughter and spouse\nIn this slaughtering house, caught up in bouts\nWith the root of all evil\nI've seen it turn beautiful people crude and deceitful\nAnd make them do shit illegal\nFor these Grant's and Jackson's\nThese transactions explain a man's actions\nBut in the mist of this insanity, I found my Christianity \nThrough God and there's a wish he granted me\nHe showed me how to cope with the stress\nAnd hope for the best, instead of mope and depressed\nAlways groping a mess, of flying over the nest\nTo selling dope with the rest\nI quit smoking cess to open my chest\nLife is stressful inside this cesspool \nTrying to wrestle, I almost bust a blood vessel\nMy little brother's trying to learn his mathematics\nHe's asthmatic, running home from school away from crack addicts\nKids attract static, children with automatics\nTaking target practice on teens for Starter Jackets\nI'm using smarter tactics to overcome this slum\nI won't become as dumb as some and succumb to scum\nIt's cumbersome, I'm trying to do well on this Earth\nBut it's been Hell on this Earth since I fell on this Earth\n\n\n\nIt's a broke day but everything is ok (It's ok)\nI'm up all night, but everything is alright (It's alright)\nIt's a rough week, and I don't get enough sleep (I can't sleep)\nIt's a long year pretending I belong here (Belong here)\nIt's a broke day but everything is ok (It's ok)\nI'm up all night, but everything is alright (It's alright)\nIt's a rough week, and I don't get enough sleep (I can't sleep)\nIt's a long year pretending I belong here (Belong here)\n\nUh, it's ok, yeah it's alright, even though I can't sleep\nUh yeah, it's ok, it's alright, I can't sleep"},
{"year": "1998", "title": "Murder Murder", "album": "\"Slim Shady EP\" (1998)", "lyrics": "All I see is murder murder, my mind state - \nMakes it too late for cops in tryin' to stop the crime rate - \nAll I see is murder murder, my mind state\nMurder, murder, murder, and kill, kill, kill! \n\n\nLeft the keys in the van, with a gat in each hand\nWent up in Eastland and shot a policeman\nFuck a peace plan of citizen bystands\nBut shit is in my hands, here's your life span\nFor what your life's worth this money is twice than\nGrab a couple grand and live a nice land\nSee I'm a nice man but money turned me to Satan\nI'm thirsty for this green so bad I'm dehydratin'\nHurry up with the cash bitch, I got a ride waitin'\nShot a man twice in the back when he tried escapin'\nI want the whole pie, I won't be denied nathan\nMaybe I need my head inside straightened\nBrain contemplatin', clean out the register\nDip before somebody catches ya\nOr gets ya description an' sketches ya\nThe connection was the prime suspect\nBut I ain't set to flee the scene of the crime just yet\nCuz I got a daughter to feed\nAnd $200 ain't enough to water the seed\nThe best thing would be for me to leave Taco Bell an' hit up Chess King\nAnd have the lady at the desk bring\nMoney from the safe in the back, stepped in wavin' the Mac\nCooperate and we can operate and save an attack\nThis bitch tried escapin' the jack\nGrabbed her by the throat, it's murder she wrote\nYou barely heard a word as she choked\nIt wasn't nuttin' for her to be smoked\nBut I slammed her on her back 'til her vertebrae broke\nJust then the pigs bust in yellin' \"Freeze!\"\nBut I'm already wanted for sellin' keys\nAnd bunch of other felonies from A to Z like spellin' bees\nSo before I dropped to the ground and fell on knees\nI bust shots, they bust back\nHit the square in the chest, he wasn't wearin' a vest\n\n\n\nLeft the house, pullin' out the drive backin' out\nNeed a backin' out this lady's Jag started blackin' out\nPulled the Mac-10 out, stuck it in her face\nShut ya yackin' mouth before I blow the brain from out the back ya scalp\nDrug her by her hair, smacked her up\nThinkin' fuck it, mug her while you're there, jacked her up\nStole her car, made a profit\nGrabbed the tape from out the deck and offed it out the window\nLike the girl on Set It Off did\nJetted off kid, stole the whip, now I'm a criminal\nDrove in thru somebody's yard, dove into they swimmin' pool\nClimbed out and collapsed on the patio\nI made it out alive but I'm injured badly though\nParents screamin': \"Son, go in and call the police\nTell 'em there's a crazy man disturbing all of the peace!\"\nTried to stall him at least long enough to let me leap up\nRun in they crib and at least leave with some little cheap stuff\nActin' like they never seen nobody hit a nick before\nSmashed the window, grabbed the Nintendo 64\nWhen they sell out in stores the price triples\nI ran up the block jumpin' kids on tricycles\nAnd colliding with an 80-year old lady with groceries\nThere goes the cheese, eggs, milk and Post Toasties\nStood up and started to see stars\nToo many siren sounds, it seemed like a thousand police cars\nBarely escaped, must-a been some dumb luck\nJumped up and climbed the back of a movin' dump truck\nBut I think somebody seen me maybe\nPlus I lost the damn Nintendo and I must-a dropped the Beanie Baby\nFuck it I give up, I'm surrounded in blue suits\nCame out with a white flag hollerin' \"TRUCE TRUCE!\"\nSurrendered my weapon to cops\nWasn't me! It was the gangsta rap and the peppermint Schnopps"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "'97 Bonnie And Clyde", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "Just the two of us.. \n\n\nBaby your da-da loves you (hey)\nAnd I'ma always be here for you (hey) no matter what happens\nYou're all I got in this world\nI would never give you up for nothin\nNobody in this world is ever gonna keep you from me\nI love you\n\nC'mon Hai-Hai, we goin to the beach\nGrab a couple of toys and let da-da strap you in the car seat\nOh where's mama? She's takin a little nap in the trunk\nOh that smell (whew!) da-da musta runned over a skunk\nNow I know what you're thinkin - it's kind of late to go swimmin\nBut you know your mama, she's one of those type of women\nthat do crazy things, and if she don't get her way, she'll throw a fit\nDon't play with da-da's toy knife, honey, let go of it (no!)\nAnd don't look so upset, why you actin bashful?\nDon't you wanna help da-da build a sand castle? (yeah!)\nAnd mama said she wants to show how far she can float\nAnd don't worry about that little boo-boo on her throat\nIt's just a little scratch - it don't hurt, her was eatin\ndinner while you were sweepin and spilled ketchup on her shirt\nMama's messy isn't she? We'll let her wash off in the water\nand me and you can pway by ourselves, can't we?\n\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\n\nSee honey.. there's a place called heaven and a place called hell\nA place called prison and a place called jail\nAnd da-da's probably on his way to all of em except one\nCause mama's got a new husband and a stepson\nAnd you don't want a brother do ya? (Nah)\nMaybe when you're old enough to understand a little better\nI'll explain it to ya\nBut for now we'll just say mama was real real bad\nShe was bein mean to dad and made him real real mad\nBut I still feel sad that I put her on time-out\nSit back in your chair honey, quit tryin to climb out (WAHH!)\nI told you it's okay HaiHai, wanna ba-ba? \nTake a night-night? Nan-a-boo, goo-goo ga-ga?\nHer make goo-goo ca-ca? Da-da change your dia-dee\nClean the baby up so her can take a nighty-nighty\nYour dad'll wake her up as soon as we get to the water\nNinety-seven Bonnie and Clyde, me and my daughter\n\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\n\nWake up sweepy head we're here, before we pway\nwe're gonna take mama for a wittle walk along the pier\nBaby, don't cry honey, don't get the wrong idea\nMama's too sweepy to hear you screamin in her ear (ma-maa!)\nThat's why you can't get her to wake, but don't worry\nDa-da made a nice bed for mommy at the bottom of the lake\nHere, you wanna help da-da tie a rope around this rock? (yeah!)\nWe'll tie it to her footsie then we'll roll her off the dock\nReady now, here we go, on the count of free..\nOne.. two.. free.. WHEEEEEE! (whoooooshhhhh)\nThere goes mama, spwashin in the wa-ta\nNo more fightin wit dad, no more restraining order\nNo more step-da-da, no more new brother\nBlow her kisses bye-bye, tell mama you love her (mommy!)\nNow we'll go play in the sand, build a castle and junk\nBut first, just help dad with two more things out the trunk\n\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\nJust the two of us.. \nAnd when we ride!\nJust the two of us.. \nJust you and I!\n\nJust the two of us.. \n\n\nJust me and you baby\nis all we need in this world\nJust me and you\nYour da-da will always be there for you\nYour da-da's always gonna love you\nRemember that\nIf you ever need me I will always be here for you\nIf you ever need anything, just ASK\nDa-da will be right there\nYour da-da loves you\nI love you baby"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Lounge (Skit)", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "I never meant to...\nGive you mushrooms girl\nI never meant to...\nBring you to my world\n\nAnd now you're lying\nThe corner cry-y-y-iiiiing\n(wooh! yeah!)"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Still Don't Give a Fuck", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "A lot of people ask me.. am I afraid of death..\nHell yeah I'm afraid of death\nI don't want to die yet\nA lot of people think.. that I worship the devil..\nthat I do all types of.. retarded shit\nLook, I can't change the way I think\nAnd I can't change the way I am\nBut if I offended you? Good\nCause I still don't give a fuck\n\nI'm zonin off of one joint, stoppin a limo\nHopped in the window, shoppin a demo at gunpoint\nA lyricist without a clue, what year is this?\nFuck a needle, here's a sword, bodypierce with this\nLivin amuk, never givin a fuck\nGimme the keys I'm drunk, and I've never driven a truck\nBut I smoke dope in a cab\nI'll stab you with the sharpest knife I can grab\nCome back the next week and re-open your scab (YEAH!)\nA killer instinct runs in the blood\nEmptyin full clips and buryin guns in the mud\nI've calmed down now -- I was heavy once into drugs\nI could walk around straight for two months with a buzz\nMy brain's gone, my soul's worn and my spirit is torn\nThe rest of my body's still bein operated on\nI'm ducked the fuck down while I'm writin this rhyme\nCause I'm probably gonna get struck with lightnin this time\n\n\n\nFor all the weed that I've smoked - yo this blunt's for you\nTo all the people I've offended - yeah fuck you too!\nTo all the friends I used to have - yo I miss my past\nBut the rest of you assholes can KISS MY ASS\nFor all the drugs that I've done - yo I'm still gon' do\nTo all the people I've offended - yeah fuck you too!\nFor everytime I reminisce - yo I miss my past\nBut I still don't give a fuck, y'all can KISS MY ASS\n\n\nI walked into a gunfight with a knife to kill you\nAnd cut you so fast when your blood spilled it was still blue\nI'll hang you til you dangle and chain you with both ankles\nAnd pull you apart from both angles\nI wanna crush your skull til your brains leaks out of your veins\nAnd bust open like broken water mains\nSo tell Saddam not to bother with makin another bomb \nCause I'm crushin the whole world in my palm\nGot your girl on my arm and I'm armed with a firearm\nSo big my entire arm is a giant firebomb\nBuy your mom a shirt with a Slim Shady iron-on\nAnd the pants to match (\"Here momma try em on\")\nI get imaginative with a mouth full of adjectives,\na brain full of adverbs, and a box full of laxatives\n(Shittin on rappers) Causin hospital accidents\nGod help me before I commit some irresponsible acts again \n\n\n\n\nI wanted an album so rugged nobody could touch it\nSpend a million a track and went over my budget (Ohh shit!)\nNow how in the fuck am I supposed to get out of debt?\nI can't rap anymore - I just murdered the alphabet\nDrug sickness got me doin some bugged twitches\nI'm withdrawn from crack so bad my blood itches\nI don't rap to get the women - fuck bitches \nGive me a fat slut that cooks and does dishes\nNever ran with a click - I'm a posse\nKamikaze, strappin a motherfuckin bomb across me\nFrom the second I was born, my momma lost me \nI'm a cross between Manson, Esham and Ozzy\nI don't know why the fuck I'm here in the first place \nMy worst day on this earth was my first birthday\nRetarded? What did that nurse say? Brain damage?\nFuck, I was born during the earthquake"},
{"year": "2000", "title": "The Real Slim Shady", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "May I have your attention please?\nMay I have your attention please?\nWill the real Slim Shady please stand up?\nI repeat, will the real Slim Shady please stand up?\nWe're gonna have a problem here..\n\nY'all act like you never seen a white person before\nJaws all on the floor like Pam and Tommy just burst in the door\nAnd started whooping her ass worse than before\nThey first were divorced, throwing her over furniture (Ah!)\nIt's the return of the... \"Ah, wait, no way, you're kidding,\nHe didn't just say what I think he did, did he?\"\nAnd Dr. Dre said... nothing, you idiots!\nDr. Dre's dead, he's locked in my basement! (Ha-ha!)\nFeminist women love Eminem\n\n\"Slim Shady, I'm sick of him\nLook at him, walking around grabbing his you-know-what\nFlipping the you-know-who.\" \"Yeah, but he's so cute though!\"\nYeah, I probably got a couple of screws up in my head loose\nBut no worse, than what's going on in your parents' bedrooms\nSometimes, I wanna get on TV and just let loose, but can't\nBut it's cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose\n\"My bum is on your lips, my bum is on your lips\"\nAnd if I'm lucky, you might just give it a little kiss\nAnd that's the message that we deliver to little kids\nAnd expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is\nOf course they gonna know what intercourse is\nBy the time they hit fourth grade\nThey got the Discovery Channel, don't they?\n\"We ain't nothing but mammals..\" Well, some of us cannibals\nWho cut other people open like cantaloupes \nBut if we can hump dead animals and antelopes\nThen there's no reason that a man and another man can't elope\n But if you feel like I feel, I got the antidote\nWomen wave your pantyhose, sing the chorus and it goes\n\n\n'Cause I'm Slim Shady, yes I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up,\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n\n\nWill Smith don't gotta cuss in his raps to sell records;\nWell I do, so fuck him and fuck you too!\nYou think I give a damn about a Grammy?\nHalf of you critics can't even stomach me, let alone stand me\n\"But Slim, what if you win, wouldn't it be weird?\"\nWhy? So you guys could just lie to get me here?\nSo you can, sit me here next to Britney Spears?\nYo Shit, Christina Aguilera better switch me chairs\nSo I can sit next to Carson Daly and Fred Durst\nAnd hear 'em argue over who she gave head to first\nLittle bitch, put me on blast on MTV\n\"Yeah, he's cute, but I think he's married to Kim, hee-hee!\"\nI should download her audio on MP3\nAnd show the whole world how you gave Eminem VD \nI'm sick of you little girl and boy groups, all you do is annoy me\nSo I have been sent here to destroy you \nAnd there's a million of us just like me\nWho cuss like me; who just don't give a fuck like me\nWho dress like me; walk, talk and act like me\nIt just might be the next best thing but not quite me!\n\n\n\n\nI'm like a head trip to listen to, cause I'm only giving you\nThings you joke about with your friends inside your living room\nThe only difference is I got the balls to say it\nIn front of y'all and I don't gotta be false or sugarcoated at all\nI just get on the mic and spit it\nAnd whether you like to admit it  I just shit it\nBetter than ninety percent of you rappers out can\nThen you wonder how can kids eat up these albums like Valiums\nIt's funny; 'cause at the rate I'm going when I'm thirty\nI'll be the only person in the nursing home flirting\nPinching nurses asses when I'm jacking off with Jergens\nAnd I'm jerking but this whole bag of Viagra isn't working\nAnd every single person is a Slim Shady lurking\nHe could be working at Burger King, spitting on your onion rings\n Or in the parking lot, circling\nScreaming \"I don't give a fuck!\"\nWith his windows down and his system up\nSo, will the real Shady please stand up?\nAnd put one of those fingers on each hand up?\nAnd be proud to be outta your mind and outta control\nAnd one more time, loud as you can, how does it go?\n\n\n\n\nHa ha\nGuess there's a Slim Shady in all of us\nFuck it, let's all stand up"},
{"year": "2000", "title": "Under The Influence", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "Translation\nSo you can suck my dick if you don't like, my shit\nCause I was high when I wrote this so suck, my dick - ha ha!\nTwo pills I pop, 'til my pupils swell up like two pennies\nI'm Clint Eastwood in his mid-twenties\nA young ass man with a trash can strapped to the back of his ass\nso the rats can't chew through his last pants\nI'm like a mummy at night, fightin with bright lightning\nFrightened with five little white Vicadin pills bitin him\nI'm like a fuckin wasp in the hospital lost\nStingin the fuck outta everything I come across in the halls\nI light a candle and place it up on the mantle\nGrab a knife at the blade and stab you with the fuckin handle\nSo when you find yourself wrapped up in the blinds, hurtin\n Bitch it's too late\n Cause once you're hung from the drapes, it's curtains\n\n\nI'm an instigator, .380 slug penetrator\nDegradin, creatin murders to kill haters\nAccused for every crime known through the equator\nThey knew I did it (uh-huh) for havin blood on my 'gators\nMy weed'll hit yo' chest like a double barrel gauge an'\nI'm a black grenade that'll blow up in yo' face \nWith a fifth in me, when I guzzle Remi I do shit on purpose\nYou never hear me say, \"Forgive me\"\nI'm snatchin every penny - it gotta be that way nigga, face it\nThat weed I sold to you, Brigade laced it\nYou hidin, I make the president get a facelift\nNiggaz just afraid, handin me they bracelets\nChillin in the lab wasted\nI'm the type that'll drink Kahlua and gin - throw up on the mic\nYour life is ruined, you get socked right on site\nAnd even at the Million Man March, we gon' fight\n\n\n\nSo you can suck my dick if you don't like, my shit\nCause I was high when I wrote this so suck, my dick\nCause I don't give a fuck if you don't like, my shit\nCause I was high when I wrote this so suck, my dick\n\n\nI'm a compulsive liar, settin my preacher on fire\nSlashin your tires, flyin down Fenkel and Meyers\nPlates expired, soon as I'm hired, I'm fired\nJackin my dick off in a bed of barbed wire\n(Hey, is Bizarre performing?) Bitch didn't you read the flyer?\nSpecial invited guest will be, Richard Pryor\n(Aren't you a male dancer?) Nah bitch, I'm retired\nFuckin your bitch in the ass with a tire iron\nI'm ripped, I'm on an acid trip\nMy DJ's in a coma for lettin the record skip.. \nLettin the record skip.. \nLettin the record skip..  (Damn!)\n\nI'm fuckin anything when I'm snortin\nIt's gonna cost 300 dollars to get my pit bull an abortion\n Some bitch asked for my autograph\nI called her a whore, spit beer in her face and laughed\nI drop bombs like I was in Vietnam\nAll bitches is hoes, even my stinkin ass mom\n\n\nAiyyo flashback, two feets, two deep up in that ass crack\nWeed laced with somethin  nigga pass that\nIn Amsterdam we only hang out with hash rats\nAt a 'Stop the Violence' rally, I blast gats\nBe your mom on publishin, get your ASCAP-ped\nThe Kuniva, divide up your cash stack\nRun your motherfuckin pockets, ASAP\nI don't need a platinum chain, bitch I snatch Shaq's\nBorn loser, half theif and half black\nBring your boys and your guns and get laughed at\nBitch smacker, rich rappers get they Jag jacked\nand found chopped up in a trash bag\n\n\nWe stranglin rappers until the point they can't yell\ncause they crew is full of fags and sweeter than bake sales\nReckless, come from behind and snatch your necklace\nGruesome, and causin more violence than nine hoodlums\nI grapple your adam's apple until it crackle\nRun right past you, turn around, grab you and stab you\nGet executed, cuz I'm a \"Luni\"\nI got a \"Yukmouth\" and it's polluted\nI cock it back then shoot it\nI love snatchin up players thugs and young ballers\nShoot up the household, even the young toddlers\nBrigade barricade to bring the noise\nWhile the bullets break your bones up like Christmas toys\nIf I go solo, I'm doin a song with Bolo\nA big Chinese nigga, screamin \"Kuniva yo yo..\"\nI leave ya face leakin, run up in church \nand smack the preacher while he's preachin\nTake a swing at the deacon\n\n\nI used to tell cats I sold weed and weight\nI was straight 'til I got caught sellin em shake\nI'm ignorant, with the intent to snatch your rent\nI got kicked out of summer camp for havin sex in my tent\nwith the superintendent's daughter, my brain's out of order\nI've been a Kon Artis since I was swimmin in water\nIn cahoots with this nigga named Carlisle Von\nwho got fired from UPS for tryin to send you a bomb\n(Special delivery!) I signed to a local label for fun\nSay I got cancer, get dropped, take the advancement and run\nDriveby you in the rain while you carry your son\nCall your house and hang up on you for not givin me none\nBorn straight up out a pussy but a son of a gun\nGot a reputation for havin niggaz runnin they funds\nUsed to be the type of nigga that was foldin some one's\n'til I met your fat mama, now I'm rollin in dough\n\n\n\n\nHaha.. suck my motherfuckin dick\nD-12.. Dirty motherfuckin Dozen\nNasty like a stank slut bitch with thirty fuckin husbands\nBizarre kid\nSwifty McVeigh\nThe Kon Artis\nThe Kuniva\nDirty Harry\nHaha, and Slim Shady.."},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Square Dance", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "People!! It feels so good to be back.\r\nLadies and gentleman, introducing the new and improved you know who\r\n\r\n\r\nNever been the type to bend or budge\r\nThe wrong button to push,\r\nNo friend of Bush\r\nI'm the centerpiece, you're the Maltese.\r\nI am a pitbull off his leash,\r\nAll this peace talk can cease.\r\nAll these people I had to leave in limbo,\r\nI'm back now,\r\nI've come to release this info\r\nI'll be brief and let me just keep shit simple.\r\nCan-a-bitch don't want no beef with Slim?\r\nNoooo!\r\nNot even on my radar,\r\nSo won't you please jump off my dick\r\nLay off and stay off,\r\nAnd follow me as I put these crayons to chaos from seance to seance,\r\nAw-a-aw-ch-a-aw\r\n\r\n\r\nYou all c'mon now,\r\nLet's all get on down,\r\nLet's do-si-do now,\r\nWe're gonna have a good ol' time.\r\nDon't be scared, 'cause there ain't nothing to worry about,\r\nLet your hair down,\r\nAnd square dance with me!\r\n\r\n\r\nLet your hair down to the track,\r\nYeah kick on back.\r\nBoo!\r\nThe boogies monster of rap,\r\nYeah the man's back\r\nWith a plan to ambush this Bush administration,\r\nMush the Senate's face in and push this generation,\r\nOf kids to stand and fight for the right to say something you might not like,\r\nThis white hot light,\r\nThat I'm under,\r\nNo wonder,\r\nI look so sunburnt,\r\nOh no,\r\nI won't leave no stone unturned,\r\nOh no I won't leave,\r\nWon't go nowhere,\r\nDo-si-do,\r\nOh, yo, ho, hello there\r\nOh yeah don't think I won't go there,\r\nGo to the Beirut and do a show there\r\nYeah you laugh till your motherfuckin' ass gets drafted,\r\nWhile you're at band camp thinkin' the crap can't happen,\r\nTill you fuck around,\r\nGet an anthrax napkin,\r\nInside a package wrapped in saran Wrap wrapping,\r\nOpen the plastic and then you stand back gasping,\r\nFuckin' assassins hijackin' Amtracks crashing,\r\nAll this terror America demands action,\r\nNext thing you know you've got Uncle Sam's ass askin'\r\nTo join the army or what you'll do for there Navy.\r\nYou just a baby,\r\nGettin' recruited at eighteen,\r\nYou're on a plane now,\r\nEating their food and their baked beans.\r\nI'm 28,\r\nThey gonna take you 'fore they take me\r\nCrazy insane or insane crazy?\r\nWhen I say Hussein you say Shady,\r\nMy views ain't changed still Inhumane,\r\nWait,\r\nArraigned two days late,\r\nThe date's today,\r\nHang me!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nNothin' moves me more than a groove the soothes me,\r\nNothin' soothes me more than a groove\r\nthat boosts me,\r\nNothin' boosts me more,\r\nOr suits me beautifully,\r\nThere's nothin' you can do to me,\r\nStab me,\r\nShoot me,\r\nPsychotic,\r\nHypnotic, product I got the antibiotic.\r\nAin't nobody hotter and so on and yada yada\r\nGod I talk a lot of hem-de-lay-la-la-la,\r\noochie walla um da dah da dah da but you gotta gotta,\r\nKeep movin',\r\nThere's more music to make,\r\nKeep makin' new shit,\r\nProduce hits to break\r\nthe monotony,\r\nWhat's gotten into me?\r\nDrug's, rock and Hennessey,\r\nThug like I'm 'Pac on my enemies,\r\nOn your knees,\r\nGot you under seige,\r\nSomebody you would give a lung to be hungry,\r\nLike a fuckin' younger me,\r\nFuck the fee,\r\nI can get you jumped for free,\r\nYah buddy,\r\nLaugh it's funny,\r\nI have the money to have you killed by somebody who has nothing,\r\nI'm past bluffing,\r\nPass the K-Y,\r\nLet's get ready for some intense,\r\nserious ass fucking!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nDr. Dre., wants to square with me,\r\nNasty Nas, wants to square dance with me,\r\nX to the Z, wants to square dance with me,\r\nBusta Rhymes, wants to square dance with me,\r\nCana-bitch won't square dance with me,\r\nFan-a-bitch, won't square dance with me,\r\nCanada-bis, don't want no parts of me,\r\nDirty Dozen wants to square dance with you-----YEE-HAW!!!"},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Soldier", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "I'm a soldier, i'm a soldier, i'm a soldier, i'm a soldier...\r\n\r\nYo', never was a thug, just infatuated with guns, \r\nnever was a gangsta, 'til I graduated to one,\r\nand got the rep of a villain, for weapon concealin', \r\ntook the image of a thug, kept shit appealin', \r\nwillin' to stick out my neck, for respect if it meant life or death, \r\nnever live to regret what I said, \r\nwhen you're me, people just want to see, \r\nif it's true, if it's you, what you say in your rap's, what you do, \r\nso they feel, as part of your obligation to fulfill, \r\nwhen they see you on the streets, face to face, are you for real, \r\nin confrontation ain't no conversation, if you feel you're in violation, \r\nany hesitation'll get you killed, if you feel it, kill it, \r\nif you conceal it, reveal it, being reasonable will leave you full of bullets, \r\npull it, squeeze it, till it's empty, tempt me, push me, pussies, \r\nI need a good reason to give this trigger a good squeeze...\r\n\r\n\r\nI'm a soldier, these shoulder's hold up so much, they won't budge, \r\ni'll never fall or fold up,\r\ni'm a soldier, \r\neven if my collar bone's crush or crumble, \r\nI will never slip or stumble, \r\ni'm a soldier, \r\nthese shoulder's hold up so much, they won't budge, \r\ni'll never fall or fold up, \r\ni'm a soldier, \r\neven if my collar bone's crush or crumble, \r\nI will never stumble...\r\n\r\nI love pissin' you off, it get's me off, \r\nlike my lawyer's, when the fuckin' judge let's me off,\r\nall you motherfuckers gotta do is set me off, \r\ni'll violate and all the motherfuckin' bet's be off, \r\ni'm a lit fuse, anything I do bitche, it's news, \r\npistol whippin' motherfuckin' bouncers, six-two, \r\nwho needs bullets, soon as I pull it, you sweat bullets, \r\nan excellent method to get rid of the next bully, \r\nit's actually better cause instead you murderin', \r\nyou can hurt em' and come back again and kick dirt at 'em, \r\nit's like pourin' salt in the wounds, assault and get sued, \r\nyou can smell the lawsuits soon as I waltz in the room, \r\neverybody halts and stops, calls the cops,\r\nall you see is bitches comin' out their halter tops, \r\nrunnin' and duckin' out the Hard Rocks parking lot, \r\nyou'll all get shot whether its your fault or not, cause...\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nI spit it slow so these kids know that i'm talkin' to 'em, \r\ngive it back to these damn critics and sock it to em, \r\ni'm like a thug, with a little bit of Pac influence, \r\nI spew it, and look how I got you bitches rockin' to it, \r\nyou motherfuckers could never do it like I could do it, \r\ndon't even try it, you'll look stupid, do not pursue it, \r\ndon't ever in your life, try to knock the truest, \r\nI spit the illest shit, ever been dropped to two inch, \r\nso ticky-tock listen as the sound ticks on the clock, \r\nlisten to the sound of Kim as she licks on a cock, \r\nlisten to the sound of me spillin' my heart through this pen, \r\nmotherfuckers know that i'll never be Marshall again, \r\nfull of controversy until I retire my jersey, \r\n'til the fire inside dies and expires at thirty, and\r\nLord have mercy on any more of these rappers that verse me, \r\nand put a curse on authorities in the face of adversity, i'm a...\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nYo' left, yo' left, yo' left, \r\nright, left, \r\nyo' left, yo' left, yo' left, \r\nright, left, \r\nyo' left, yo' left, yo' left, \r\nright, left, \r\nyo' left, yo' left, yo' left, \r\nright, left..."},
{"year": "2002", "title": "My Dad's Gone Crazy", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "Hello boys and girls\r\nToday we're gonna talk about father and daughter relationships\r\nDo you have a daddy?\r\nI'll bet you do\r\n\r\nwho's your daddy?\r\n\r\n\r\nDaddy, what're you doing?\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nHaha\r\n\r\n\r\nOk then! everybody, listen up!\r\n\r\n\r\nI'm goin to hell, who's comin' with me?\r\n\r\n\r\nSomebody, please help him!\r\n\r\ni think my dad gone crazy!\r\n\r\n\r\nThere's no mountain i can't climb\r\nThere's no tower too high,\r\nNo plane that i can't learn how to fly\r\nWhat do i gotta do to get through to you, to show you\r\nThere ain't nothing i can't take this chainsaw to\r\n\r\nFuckin' brain's brawn, and brass balls\r\nI cut 'em off, i got 'em pickled and bronzed in a glass jar\r\nInside of a hall, with my framed autographed,\r\nSunglasses with elton john's name, on my drag wall\r\nI'm out the closet, i been lying my ass off\r\nAll this time, me and dre been fucking with hats off\r\n\r\n\r\nSuck it marshall\r\n\r\n\r\nSo tell Laura and her husband to back off\r\nBefore i push this motherfucking button and blast off\r\nAnd launch one of these russians, and that's all\r\n\r\nBlow every fucking thing, except afghanistan on the map, off\r\nWhen will it stop? When will I knock the crap off?\r\n\r\nHailie, tell 'em baby\r\n\r\n\r\nMy dad's lost it\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThere's really nothin' else to say I, I can't explain it\r\n\r\n\r\nI think my dad gone crazy!\r\n\r\n\r\nA little help from Hailie Jade won't you tell em' baby\r\n\r\nI think my dad gone crazy!\r\n\r\n\r\nTheres nothin' you could do or say that could ever change me\r\n\r\nI think my dad gone crazy!\r\n\r\n\r\nThere's no one on earth that can save me, not even Hailie\r\n\r\n\r\nI think my dad gone crazy!\r\n\r\n\r\nIt's like my mother always told me\r\n\r\nRana Rana Rana Rana Rana Rana Rana Rana Rana Rana,\r\nand codeine and goddamit, you little motherfucker\r\nIf you aint got nothin' nice to say then don't say nothin'\r\nuh..\r\nFuck that shit, bitch, eat a motherfuckin' dick\r\nChew on a prick, and lick a million motherfuckin' cocks per second\r\nI'd rather put out a motherfucking gospel record\r\nI'd rather be a pussy-whipped bitch, eat pussy\r\nAnd have pussy-lips glued to my face with a clit-ring in my nose\r\nThen quit bringin my flows, quit giving me my ammo\r\nCan't you see why i'm so mean? if y'all leave me alone, this wouldn't be my\r\nm.o.\r\nI wouldn't have to go eenie meenie minie mo\r\nCatch a homo by his toe, man i don't know no more\r\nAm i the only fuckin one who's normal any more?\r\n\r\n\r\nDad\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nMy songs can make you cry, take you by surprise\r\nAnd at the same time, make you dry your eyes with the same rhyme\r\nSee what you're seeing is a genius at work\r\nWhich to me isn't work, so it's easy to misinterpret it at first,\r\nCuz when i speak, it's tongue in cheek\r\nI'd yank my fuckin teeth before id ever bite my tongue\r\nI'd slice my gums, get struck by fuckin' lightning twice at once\r\nAnd die and come back as vanilla ice's son\r\nAnd walk around the rest of my life spit on\r\nAnd kicked and hit with shit, every time i sung\r\nLike R Kelly as soon as \"bump n' grind\" comes on\r\nMore pain inside of my brain, than the eyes of a little girl inside of a\r\nplane\r\nAimed at the World Trade, standin' on Ronnie's grave,\r\nScreaming at the sky, till clouds gather as Clyde Mathers and Bonnie Jade\r\nAnd thats pretty much the gist of it,Parents are pissed, but the kids love\r\nit\r\nNine millimeter, heater stashed, in two-seaters with meat cleavers\r\nI don't blame you, i wouldn't let hailie listen to me neither\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nCrazy\r\n\r\n\r\nha ha\r\nYou're funny daddy!"},
{"year": "2003", "title": "We As Americans", "album": "\"Straight From The Lab\" (2003)", "lyrics": "There's an intruder\nin my house\nHe cut my phone-lines\ncan't dial out\nI scream for police\nbut I doubt\nThey're gonna hear me\nwhen I shout\n\n\n\nA couple of cocktails will send me to jail\nthere's a couple of cops hot on my trail\nBut this time, when I get pulled over\nthere's a doberman pincher and a pitbull in the seat\nthese pigs 'll get bit fooling with me\nquit fooling with me\nBitch, you're gonna see\nNo pistol in the seat\nwhy it always gotta be an issue when you're me\nand which you're gonna see in the long run\nIm'a be the wrong one\nyou wanna harass with this limo tinted glass\nflashing that flash-light on my ass where was you at\nlast night when them assholes\nran up on my grass\nrapper slash actor\nkiss the crack on my cracker slashed ass\nthey took away my right to bear arms\nwhat I'm 'posed to fight with bare palms?\nyeah right\nthey coming with bombs, I'm coming with flare-guns\nWe as Americans\n\n\n\nWe as a Americans\nUs as a citizen\nGotta protect ourselves\nLook at how shit has been\nWe better check ourselves\nLiving up in these streets\nThrough worse and through better health\nSurviving by any means\nWe as Americans\nUs as a citizen\nWe are Samaritans\nWhat do we get us in\nWe better check ourselves\nLook at how shit has been\nTake a look where you live\nThis is America\nAnd we are Americans\n\nIm'a make buku bucks\nwearing buku vests\nDrama hanging over my head like a voodoo hex\nI could've been next to fly over the cuckoo's nest\nbut you know who\nwith an \"S\" tattooed to my chest\nBut I've finessed\nNow I got the Industry pissy\never since me and Dre split it fifty-fifty on fifty it's funny\nWe got a buzz spreading quicker than making paper-airplanes out of a twenty\nFuck money I don't rap for dead presidents\nI'd rather see the president dead\nIt's never been said\nbut I set precedents and the standards\nand they can't stand it\nMy name should've been bastard\nthe shit should've been plastered\non my forehead with a stamp\nI should've been blasted\nI should've been had a cap pulled in my ass\nbut I'm too swift and fast\nfor that, I'm past it\nI'm too old to go and cruise Gratiot\nFuck that shit\nI done seen how fast this rap shit\ncan turn into some pap-pap shit\nthat quick\nsnap click\nbut this time they got fucking auto-ma-tic\n(Jamaican) and no one gon' test this mon\nClack\n\n\nWe as a Americans\nUs as a citizen\nGotta protect ourselves\nLook at how shit has been\nWe better check ourselves\nLiving up in these streets\nThrough worse and through better health\nSurviving by any means\nWe as Americans\nUs as a citizen\nWe are Samaritans\nWhat do we get us in\nWe better check ourselves\nLook at how shit has been\nTake a look where you live\nThis is America\nAnd we are Americans\n\n(SSHHH)\nI got a secret if you can keep it between us\nI tuck two Nina's under my jeans either side of my penis\nunder my Long Johns\nunder my Sean Johns\nwhen running with the long arm of the law I'm long gone\nIm'a do five years no less than that\nno questions asked\nit might be a good idea to stop right here\nand quit while I'm ahead\nalready in the red\nalready got a steady infrared meant for my head\nA target on my back\nbigger problems than that\nBin Laden on my ass\nhe probably gone send a task\nI ain't gone even ask\nthey ain't gone let me pack\nthey ain't gone gimme my semi but I got my Whizz at\n\nWe as a Americans\nUs as a citizen\nGotta protect ourselves\nLook at how shit has been\nWe better check ourselves\nLiving up in these streets\nThrough worse and through better health\nSurviving by any means\nWe are Americans\nUs as a citizen\nWe as Samaritans\nWhat do we get us in\nWe better check ourselves\nLook at how shit has been\nTake a look where you live\nThis is America\nAnd we are Americans"},
{"year": "2003", "title": "Doe Ray Me", "album": "\"Straight From The Lab\" (2003)", "lyrics": "Get on your knees nigga, get on your knees and pray!\n\nEm you claim your mothers a crack head and Kim is a known slut, so what's Halie gonna be when she grows up?\n\n\nHa ha, yeah, come on!\nG-G-G-G-G-Unit\nHailie\n What??\n Come here baby\nBring daddy his Oscar\n Okay\n We're gonna shove it up Ja Rule's ass\n\n\n\nI'm about to get rid of some hoes it's simple\nI put the Murder Inc with lead and I'm not talking about a pencil\nLook at what the fuck you dun got into\nI see you found your nitch you're just a bitch with a menstral\nClaiming you a murderer and spelt it wrong\nYou put the \"E\" before the \"D\" because that's all you on\nYou on Pac's dick (bitch) you a replica guy if he were still alive you would never get by\nAll you do is cry bitch keep it real life is more than imitating niggas and eating pills\nAnd what kind of motherfucker ruins 3 deals that another nigga got you they didn't see\nskills\nAnd I ain't playing your a brother getting cheated\nAnd Ja Rule be praying on his cover cause he need it\nAnd you niggas hating shut your mouths\nIt's just the real niggas ain't buying that shit you put out\n\n\nDoe Rae Me but we don't sing motherfuckers\nSo Murda Inc do your thing motherfuckers\nYou unleashed on a team who expects nothing less then R 'n' B coming from that regime\nRegime is a little extreme neck to neck with soldiers motherfucking marines\nJa sold his soul to sing we have witnessed teen on the TV screen chase the dream\nNow that you embrace the green don't fuck with the triple beams\nYou're a motherfucking actor slash Pac impersonating rapper\nSlash Billy Holiday how it happen?\nArtists with repituares saw him in action, Pac's assassination\nDef jam grabbed him, told him reenact him you'll go platinum\nThey seen it for sure I know that Afeni Shakur don't enjoy Jeffrey Atkins\nReenacting her boy saw him click clacking his toy\nMatch and destroy Shady slash Aftermath in Detroit motherfucker\n\n\nDoe Rae Me Fa So La Dee Da\nDon't play me cause your washed up, lost your spot\nMama say mama sa Macosaca\nJa quit playing now get off your not Tupac\nDoe Rae Me cause we're hot and you're not\nGoing at me is the only shot you got\nJa quit playing now get off your not Tupac\nYou can get popped after all that shit you talk\n\n\nNow we can skip past the mean mugs, get to the slugs\nTo grievance and the crying and intimate hugs\nWe don't take you serious nigga you shook,\nYou're half of a half-way crook nigga get off X dick go sing a hook nigga\nAnd you can't replace the late great one and when your gone you'll only be the late fake\none\nNigga please stick the script before the guns stick to the clip\nAnd Benzino you ain't shit but a bitch, fucking old ass ignorant innocent looking senior citizen\nBuilt up slap you like renaissance sicitive wait a minute hold on\nIs it me or do we look like a banana with braids and clothes on\nA bitch made man now how you gonna connect with them short ass arms like a Tyrannosaurus Rex\nYou niggas can scream, holla and curse and go ahead and respond\nPull that pen and pad up out of your purse\n\n\nSlim set an impulse to get at the wanktas\nHe told me to let loose and spit at the ganstas\nWhat up gotti were in this little war you pushed on\nPut your ear to the drama for stucky and bush stones\nWhat's wrong? didn't think were strong with real niggas\nRoll like a boss in the streets they still feel us\nThis real witness you all ain't caught the concept\nYou're talking non sense to walking bomb threats\nContacts were blown by Benzetta in the Source\nThreatening at the boss you're gonna see me on your porch\nNow I've got the nerve to try serve on us\nBut Detroit niggas curve and they stirs to bust\n\n\nDo I gotta get my nigga bugs, punks like you get beat up\nStomped unconscious and smacked with the heater\nThis rap cookie monster gets jabbed in the tonsils\nWith dicks so much that he should be fixed with a vagina\nWho's behind ya? Caddillac, Pac or that transvestite that dress like a Lil Kim Fox\nYour just like a little wind box when I press tight on the trigger of this glock\nThat's right on the little shit you got left to help you eat\nYou not Pac's songs without laws will help you sleep\nYou got shot in your video trying to mock pac your \"mock\"avelli get your own identity\n\n\nDoe Rae Me Fa So La Dee Da\n(Don't EVER say my little girls name in a song again)\nDon't play me cause you're washed up, lost your spot\nMama say mama sa Macosaca\n(Fucking punk pussy, BITCH!)\nJa quit playing now get off your not Tupac\nDoe Rae Me cause we're hot and you're not\n(I'm gonna fuck you up boy)\nGoing at me is the only shot you got\n(Never again in your mother fucking life)\nJa quit playing now get off your not Tupac\n(Gonna shoot the shit outta you little fucking midgets,\nHailie will whip your mother fucking asses)\nYou can get popped after all that shit you talk\n\n\nYeah, that's right motherfuckers\nShady Records, what you know about?\nFuck Benzino, fuck Ja Rule\nNigga, this is Obie Trice right here talking to you mother fuckers\nJa Rule punk ass yeah\nFuck his soul for real ass\nNigga that's soul, that's the nigga from 'soul for real'\nCandy rain ass nigga you got a deal now you rapping\nYou don't know us, fagot ass mother fuckers\nGive money to all my real niggas\nObie Trice, D12, G-Unit, 50 Cent, Hailie Jade Hahahaha\n\n Daddy is Ja Rule taller than me?\n\n No honey you guys are the same size"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Rain Man", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Yeah\n(Definitely, definitely, definitely, dope, definitely, definitely K-mart)\nYeah, yeah\n\n\nYou find me offensive, I find you offensive\nFor finding me offensive\nHence, if I should draw the line on any fences\nIf so to what extent\nIf at any should I go\n'Cause it's getting expensive\nBeing on the other side of the courtroom on the defensive\nThey say I cause extensive\nPsychological nerve damage to the brain when I go to lengths this,\nFar at other peoples' expenses\nI say you're all just too goddamn sensitive\nIt's censorship\nAnd it's down right blasphemous\nLet's end this shit now 'cause I won't stand for this\nAnd Christopher Reeves won't sit for this neither\nAnd let's clear this up too I ain't got no beef with him either\nHe used to be like a hero to me\nI even believe I had one of those 25 cent stickers on my refrigerator\nRight next to Darth Vader\nAnd Darth must have put a hex on him for later\nI feel like it's my fault 'cause of the way that\nI stuck him up in between him and Lex Luthor\nI killed Superman, I killed Super--man\nAnd how ironic, that I'd be the bad guy\nKryptonite: The Green Chronic\n\n\n'Cause I ain't got no legs!\nOr no brain, nice to meet you\nHi, my name is...\nI forgot my name!\nMy aim was not to become what I became with this level of fame\nMy soul is possessed by this devil my new name is....\nRain Man\n\nNow in the Bible it says\nThou shalt not watch two lesbians in bed,\nHave homosexual sex\nUnless, of course, you were given the consent to join in\nThen, of course, it's intercourse\nAnd it's bi-sexual sex\nWhich isn't as bad, as long as you show some remorse for your actions\nEither before, during or after performing the act of that which\nIs normally referred to have such, more commonly known phrases\nThat are more used by today's kids\nIn a more derogatory way but\nWho's to say, what's fair to say, and what not to say?\nLet's ask Dr. Dre\nDr. Dre? (What up?)\nI gotta question if I may? (Yeah)\nIs it gay to play Putt-Putt golf with a friend (Yeah)\nAnd watch his butt-butt when he tees off? (Yeah)\nBut, up I ain't done yet\nIn football the quarterback yells out hutt-hutt\nWhile he reaches in another grown man's ass\nGrabs on his nuts but just what if\nIt was never meant it was just an accident\nBut he tripped, fell, slipped and his penis went in\nHis teeny tiny little round hiney and he didn't mean it\nBut his little weenie flinched just a little bit\nAnd I don't mean to go in into any more details but\nWhat if he pictured it as a females butt?\nIs that gay? I just need to clear things up\n'Til then I'll just walk around with a manly strut because...\n\n\n\nYou find me offensive, I find you offensive\nShit, this is the same verse I just did this\nWhen am I gonna come to my good senses?\nProbably the day Bush comes to my defenses\nMy spider sense is telling me Spiderman is nearby\nAnd my plan is to get him next\nAnd open up a whip-ass canister\nGoddamn it Dre where's the god damn beat? (Yeah)\nAnyway, anyway I don't know how else to put it\nThis is the only thing that I'm good at\nI am the bad guy, Kryptonite: The Green Chronic\nDemonic, yep yep, don't worry I'm on it\nI got it, high five Nick Lachey\nStuck a pin in Jessica's head and walked away\nAnd as she flew around the room like a balloon\nI grabbed the last can of chicken tuna\nOut the trash can and zoom\nI headed straight back to the Neverland Ranch\nWith a peanut butter, jelly, chicken, tuna sandwich\nAnd I ain't even gotta make no god damn sense\nI just did a whole song and I didn't say shit\n\n\nCause IIIAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHAHAHAAA AAAAAHAHHHHHHHHHH\nYo, Rain Man\nDefinitely, definitely Dr. Dre super dope beat maker two thousand and\nTwo thousand four hundred and eighty seven million\nNine hundred and seventy three thousand four hundred and sixty three\nAnd seventy (Yeah)"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Big Weenie", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "I don't understand\r\nWhy are you being so mean?\r\nYou're mean mean man\r\n\r\n\r\nYou are just jealous of me\r\nCuz you, you just can't do what I do\r\nSo instead of just admitting it\r\nYou walk around and say\r\nAll kinds of really mean things\r\nAbout me cuz you're a meanie, a meanie\r\nBut it's only cuz you're\r\nJust really jealous of me\r\nCuz I'm what you want to be\r\nSo you just look like an idiot\r\nWhen you say these mean things\r\nCuz it's too easy to see\r\nYou're really just a big weenie, big weenie\r\n\r\n\r\nAlright listen, I need you to focus\r\nI need you to go dig deep in your mind, this is important\r\nWe are going to perform an experiment of the sorts\r\nI'm going to have to ask you to bear with me for a moment\r\nNow I need you to open your mind-your eyes close them\r\nYou are now about to be placed under my hypnosis\r\nFor the next four and a half minutes\r\nWe are going to explore into your mind\r\nTo find out why you're so fuckin' jealous\r\nNow why did they make Yoo-Hoo?\r\nHippity ga-ga boo-boo\r\nPsych, I'm kidding\r\nI just wanted to see if you're still listenin'\r\nOk, now I need your undivided attention\r\nSir I have a question\r\nWhy do I always sense this undeniable tension\r\nFrom the moment that I enter into the room\r\nIt gets all quiet and whispers\r\nWhenever theres conversation, why am I always mentioned?\r\nI've been dying to ask, it's been itchin' at me\r\nIs it just because\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nAlright now I, I just flubbed a line\r\nI was going to say something extremely important\r\nBut I forgot who or what it was, I fucked up\r\nPsych, I'm kidding again you idiot, no I didn't\r\nThat's just what you wanted to hear from me\r\nIs that I fucked up ain't it?\r\nBut I can bust one take without lookin' at no paper\r\nIt doesn't take a bunch of takes\r\nOr me to stand here in this booth all day\r\nFor me to say the truth, ok?\r\nYou're droolin, you have tooth decay\r\nYour mouth is open, you're disgusting\r\nWhat the fuck you eat for lunch\r\nA bunch of sweets or something, what?\r\nYou munch a bunch of Crunch 'N Munch?\r\nYour tooth is rotten to the gum\r\nYour breath stinks, wanna chew some gum?\r\nYes I do sir, what am I on?\r\nYou sir are on truth syrum\r\nMarshall I'm so jealous of you\r\nPlease say you won't tell nobody\r\nI'd be so embarrassed, I'm just absolutely terrified\r\nThat someone's gonna find out why I'm saying\r\nAll these terrible, evil and awful mean things\r\nIt's my own insecurity!\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nAlright now we, we're going to conduct\r\nThat experiment that we were talking about earlier\r\nJust to see what a frog looks like when it takes two hits of ecstasy\r\nCuz that's exactly what your eyes look like, want to check to see?\r\nHere's a mirror, notice the resemblence here?\r\nWait, let me put these sun glasses on\r\nNow look in this mirror, how about now?\r\nWhat do you have in common?\r\nYou're both green with envy and look like idiots with sunglasses on 'em\r\nYou look like I sound like singing about weenies\r\nNow take my weenie out of your mouth\r\nThis is between me and you, I know you're not happy\r\nI know you'd much rather see me lying in the corner of a room somewhere crying\r\nCurled up in a ball tweeked out of my mind dying\r\nThere is no denying that my weenie is much bigger than yours is\r\nMine is like sticking a banana between two oranges\r\nWhy you even doing this to yourself, it's pointless\r\nWhy do we have to keep on going through this, this is tortuous\r\nMy point is this\r\nThat if you say mean things, weenie will shrink\r\nNow I fogot what the chorus is, your just is..."},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Em Calls Paul (Skit)", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Aye yo Paul, It's Em\r\nI got your call about the Michael Jackson thing\r\nAnd I know that he's not 'thrilled' about the video\r\nWhat does he 'wanna be startin' somethin'?'\r\nWell I'll show him who's really 'bad'\r\nPaul, 'the way you make me feel' with these calls\r\nYou should really take a look at the 'man in the mirror'\r\nAnd tell him to 'beat it' because I 'won't stop till I get enough'\r\nDo you 'remember the time' we were watching the 'Billy Jean' video?\r\nWell he'll always be that Michael to me\r\nAnd it doesn't matter if he's 'black or white'\r\nBecause I 'can't stop loving him' and I hate plastic surgeons\r\nAnd I hope they all fucking die!\r\nHow do you like that?\r\nAnd I like him, I like him a lot\r\nI want to touch him but I can't\r\nExcuse me, I'm taking a shit\r\nSorry\r\nAnyways, call me back\r\nI have this idea about how I want to end the show\r\nSo, hit me when you get this message fucker\r\nOh, and by the way\r\nNo I don't have a new gun  (goddamn it)"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Final Thought (Skit)", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": ""},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Ricky Ticky Toc", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Once you call my name out things will never be the same....\r\nThey should have never let us get off foot in this game...\r\nEver since I was introduced to rap music\r\nI been missing a screw like Bishop and Juice\r\nI could lose it at any moment\r\nThose who know me know it\r\nSo they're probably told you go with the flow\r\nJust so that I don't explode\r\nAnd have another episode where I let it go as far as\r\nThe one with Benzino did I'm waiting for that next beef,\r\nI'm cocked, locked and loaded\r\nI'm ready to go so bad I'm going bananas,\r\nMy dick's so hard Anna Nicole could use it to fucking pole vault with\r\nOh shit, I mean when she was still bloated\r\nBefore they cut her stomach open and lipoed it\r\nAnybody I throw flames at gets a name it's a game\r\nCause they know that they don't spit the same\r\nIt's a shame, what people do for 10 minutes of fame\r\nEveryday it's the same thing,\r\nPeople in this game try to buddy buddy us\r\nJust to get close enough to study us\r\nEverybody just wants to have something to do with that\r\nThey all trying to get that stamp\r\nThey after that Shady - Aftermath money\r\nIt's like a monopoly\r\nThey probably just now finally understand how to rob fully\r\n50 Cent was like a fucking jackpot for me\r\nAnd Dre, it's like we hit the fucking lottery\r\nAnd a damn slot machine at the same time as each other\r\nWhy the fuck you think we ride like we brothers\r\nWhen we rhyme with each other\r\nIn time we discovered that we have more in common\r\nThen we thought with each other\r\nBoth robbed of our mothers\r\nOur fathers ain't want us\r\nWhat was wrong with us, was it our fault\r\nCause we started thinking god doesn't love us\r\nTwo odd motherfuckers who just happened to meet at the right time\r\nWhat a coincidence cause when 50 got shot up in Jamaica Queens\r\nI still remember the call up in ??\r\nBig L had just got popped just a month before\r\nIf 50 lives he's getting dropped from Columbia\r\nTwo years later me and Doc had to come and, uh, operate\r\nThat's when he popped up a number one\r\nAnd we ain't never gonna stop if you wond-ering\r\nEven if I'm under the gun\r\nYou ain't gotta agree all the time with me\r\nOr see eye to eye there'll always be animosity between you and I\r\nBut see the difference is if it is I could give a shit\r\nStill gonna conduct motherfucking business as usual\r\nEgo's aside, fore I bruise em' all\r\nSwallow your pride fore I step on it with shoes you call Nike's\r\nEarth links how do you like these you gotta love them\r\nLook at the bottom of em' they're like cleats\r\nStomping, I been romping since Tim Dogg was hollering\r\n'Fuck Compton'\r\nI was whilin', free styling back when they was still making Maxell cassettes\r\nI wasn't even raps Elvis yet\r\nThat tells us that any doubts in your head that seals the shit\r\nRicky-Ticky-Toc-Ticky-Ticky-Toc\r\nStill with the Diggy-Diggy-Doc-Diggy-Diggy-Doc\r\nAnd you don't stop"},
{"year": "2005", "title": "Shake That", "album": "\"Curtain Call\" (2005)", "lyrics": "Shady, Aftermath\n(Look at that bitch! Ha, yeah!)\nThere she goes shaking that ass on the floor\nBumpin' and grindin' that pole\nThe way she's grindin' that pole\nI think I'm losing control\n\n\nGet buzzed, get drunk, get crunked, get fucked up\nHit the strip club don't forget ones get your dick rubbed\nGet fucked, get sucked, get wasted, shit faceted\nPasted, blasted, puke, drink up, get a new drink\nHit the bathroom sink, throw up\nWipe your shoe clean, got a routine\nKnowing still got a few chunks on your shoestring\nShowing I was dehydrated till the beat vibrated\nI was revibed as soon as this bitch gyrated\nAnd hips and licked them lips and that was it\nI had to get Nate Dogg here to sing some shit\n\n\nTwo to the one from the one to the three\nI like good pussy and I like good trees\nSmoke so much weed you wouldn't believe\nAnd I get more ass than a toilet seat\nThree to the one from the one to the three\nI met a bad bitch last night in the D\nLet me tell you how I made her leave with me\nConversation and Hennessy\nI've been to the motherfucking mountain top\nHeard motherfuckers talk, seen 'em drop\nIf I ain't got a weapon I'ma pick up a rock\nAnd when I bust yo ass I'm gonna continue to rock\nGet your ass off the wall with your two left feet\nIt's real easy just follow the beat\nDon't let that fine girl pass you by\nLook real close cause strobe lights lie\n\n\nWe 'bout to have a party (turn the music up)\nLet's get it started (go 'head shake your butt)\nI'm looking for a girl with a body and a sexy strut\nWanna get it popping baby step right up\nSome girls they act retarded\nSome girls are 'bout it 'bout it\nI'm looking for a girl that will do whatever the fuck\nI say every day she be giving it up\n\n\nShake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\nCome on, girl, shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\nOh, girl, shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\nCome on, girl, shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\n\n\nI'm a menace, a dentist, an oral hygienist\nOpen your mouth for about four or five minutes\nTake a little bit of this fluoride rinse\nSwish but don't spit it, swallow when I finish\nYeah me and Nate D-O double G\nLooking for a couple bitches with some double Ds\nPop a little champagne and a couple Es\nSlip it in her bubbly, we finna finna have a party\n\n\nHave a party (turn the music up)\nLet's get it started (go 'head shake your butt)\nI'm looking for a girl I can fuck in my hummer truck\nApple bottom jeans and a big ol' butt\nSome girls they act retarded\nSome girls are 'bout it 'bout it\nI want a bitch that sit at the crib with no panties on\nKnows that she can but she won't say no\nNow look at this lady all in front of me, sexy as can be\nTonight I want a slut, would you be mine?\nHeard you was freaky from a friend of mine\n\n\nNow I hope you don't get mad at me\nBut I told Nate you was a freak\nHe said he wants a slut, hope you don't mind\nI told him how you like it from behind\n\n\nShake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\nC'mon, girl, shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\nOh, girl, shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\nC'mon, girl, shake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\nWe 'bout to have a party (turn the music up)\nLet's get it started (go ahead shake your butt)\nI'm looking for a girl with a body and a sexy strut\nWanna get it poppin' baby step right up\nSome girls they act retarded\nSome girls are 'bout it 'bout it\nI'm looking for a girl that will do whatever the fuck\nI say every day she be giving it up\n\n\nThere she goes, shaking that ass on the floor\nBumping and grinding that pole\nThe way she's grinding that pole\nI think I'm losing control\n\nGod, come on\n\n\n\nI ain't leavin' without you bitch\n\nComing home with me\n\nAnd my boy, and his boy, and his boy, and his girl\n\nHa ha, Nate Dogg"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Encore / Curtains Down", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Sh-sh-sh-shady\r\nAftermath, haha\r\nG-G-G-G-G-Unit!, haha\r\n\r\n\r\nCause we came here to set this party off right\r\nLet's bounce tonight\r\nAnd if they don't let us in through the front\r\nWe'll come through the side\r\nCuz i don't ever wanna leave the game without\r\nAt least saying goodbye\r\nSo all my people on the left, all my people on the right\r\nSwing one last time\r\n\r\n\r\nGet your ass up for the doctor\r\nOne more time, get your ass up for the doctor\r\nCome on now, here we go\r\nCliff hanger, it's another club banger\r\nGot you hangin' on the edge of your seat\r\nGet on down\r\n\r\n\r\nTimes up, games over, you lose, I win\r\n'bout to show these knuckleheads how to do this here\r\nOoh yeah, new year, next phase, begin\r\nLook who's got you goin' crazy again\r\nI'm a trend, I set one every time I'm in\r\nI go out and just come back full circle again\r\nYou a fad, that means your something that we already had\r\nBut once you're gone, you don't come back, too bad\r\n\r\n\r\nYou're off the map now, radar can't even find you\r\nWe stay on the grind, you slip, we out-grind you\r\nYou walk around mad, you let your anger blind you\r\nWe walk around just playin' the violin behind you\r\nEnough with all the pissin' and moanin', whinin' and bitchin'\r\nSit and observe, listen, you'll learn if you pay attention\r\nWhy ten multi-platinum albums later, three diamond\r\nWorld-wide, we're on the charts with a bullet and still climbin'\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nWhen dr. dre say crunk, you will get it crunk, get it crunk\r\nCrunk, crunk, crunk\r\nAnd when 50 cent says jump, you get on one foot and jump\r\nJump, jump, jump, jump\r\n\r\n\r\nThe buzz is tremendous, we drop you all to sense it\r\nI don't gotta promote it for you to know that doc is off the benches\r\n\r\n\r\nWe keep the party rockin' off the henges\r\nWe ain't showin' off, we just goin' off popular consensus\r\n\r\n\r\nBut critics say that Doc is soft, Doc is talk\r\nDoc is all washed up, knock it off\r\nWho the fuck is Doc impressin'?\r\nDoc is this, Doc is that, you got the wrong impression\r\nYou must be on the cock of Doc, cuz Doc left you all guessin'\r\nSo DJ take the needle and just drop it on the record (what)\r\nWe gon' have this mutherfucker hoppin' in a second (bump bump)\r\nThat's why we always save the best cut last\r\nTo make you scratch and itch for it like fresh cut grass\r\n\r\n\r\nCuz we done swam with the sharks, wrestle with alligators\r\nSpoke to a generation of angry teenagers\r\nWhom if it wasn't for rap to bridge the gap\r\nMaybe raised to be racist\r\nWho may have never got to see our faces\r\nGrace the cover of Rolling Stone pages\r\nBroke down barriers of language and races\r\nJust call on the cape crusaders\r\nAnd leave it to me and Dre to pass the mic\r\nAnd we can play the back and forth all day\r\nLike the hot potato game, thats why we came to\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n50 cent, come on!\r\n\r\n\r\nBounce now, hands up, you know how we do\r\nWe make the club jump everywhere we go\r\nIt's no secret, everybody know\r\nWhen Dre's involved, there's plenty money involved\r\n\r\n\r\nAnd plenty honey's involved, the sunny Sunday's and palm trees\r\nCali, everyday it's just another party from the valley's\r\nAll the way to them 8 Mile alleys, let's rally\r\n\r\n\r\nHands up for the grand finale\r\nNow raise up out your seat, Dre is about to speak\r\nBlaze a pound of weed six days up out the week\r\n\r\n\r\nYou could catch me in the studio bangin' out the beats to\r\nProvide you with the heat that keep blazin' out your speaker\r\n\r\n\r\nSo never say never cuz Shady Aftermath together\r\nAlong with G-Unit Records presents the return of the-the Doc (and Shady)\r\nNo one could do it better\r\nWe tear the club up and leave without a strand of evidence and uh\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nYeah, haha\r\nStill Aftermath, 2006\r\nAnd don't worry about that Detox album\r\nIt's comin', we gonna make Dre do it, haha\r\n50 cent, G-unit, Obie Trice, D-twizzy, Stat Quo, Dr. Dre\r\nWe ain't leavin', let's go! haha\r\nLadies and gentlemen, thank you all for comin' out, peace!\r\nOh shit, I almost forgot\r\nYou're comin' with me \r\nHaha, bye bye!\r\nSee you in hell, fuckers."},
{"year": "2004", "title": "One Shot 2 Shot", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "I told ya'll motherfuckers I was coming back\nWhat now nigga what now what\nYou's the projects nigga\n\n\nOne shot two shot three shots four shots\nAll I hear is gunshots\nThis is where the fun stops\nBodies drop, hit the floor,\nMusic's off, party stops,\nEverybody hit the door,\nSomebody's licking shots off\n\n\nSecurity's gone I'm dropped in the club\nAnd I'm tryna run and get my motherfucking gun\n(Nigga what about your wife)\nNigga fuck my wife I'm tryna run and save my motherfucking life\nOh shit, the shooter's comin'\nBitches hollering, niggas running\nPeople shot all over the floor\nAnd I'm tryna make it to the St. Andrew's door\nThat's the sound of the glock\nEven DJ House you fucked around and got shot\nI done messed around and forgot my tec\nI don't see nobody but Fab Five and Hex\n\n\n(Kuniva you aight)\nThese niggas is trippin'\n(Where's Bizarre at?)\nI'm tryna slip through the exit and get to where my car is at\nBitches screaming everywhere and niggas is wildin'\nTwo minutes ago we was all joking and smiling\nThis chick is clinging onto me sobbing and sighing\nSaying she didn't mean to diss me earlier and she crying\nBut it's real and it's on and cats is getting killed\nSo I hugged her and used her body as a human shield\nAnd she got hit now she yelling\n(Don't leave me!)\nI told her I'd be right back and the dumb bitch believed me\nI squeezed through the back door and made my escape\nI ran and got my 38 I hope its not to late\n\n\n\n\n(Nigga I've been tryna call you all day motherfucker where you at?)\nI'm on seven mile what the fuck was that\nDamn somebody hit me from the back\n(With they car?)\nWith a gat nigga and my tire flat\nAnd I just hit a pole, them niggas some hoes\n(Is you hit?)\nI don't know\nBut I can tell you what they drove\nIt was a black Mitsubishi with...\n(Shit that's the clique we beefing with.)\nMan! (I swear!)\nAnd I was on my way there\nBelieve me I'm leaving a carcass today\nAnd I'mma park my car and walk the rest of the way\nI'm in the mood to strut, my AK ain't even tucked\nI'm gonna meet you at the club we're gonna fuck these hoes up\n\n\n\n\nI've never seen no shit like this in my life before\nPeople are still camped out from the night before\nSleeping outside the door waiting in line\nStill tryna get inside the club to see D12 perform\nThe fire marshals know the venue's too small\nPeople are wall to wall three thousand and some odd fans\nAnd some cum wad from out the parking lot\nGets in an argument over a parking spot\nDecides to pull his gun out and let's a few of 'em off\nMissed who he's aiming for six feet away's the door\nInto the same entrance hall now the strays flying all over the place\nGrazed one bitch in the face another one of 'em came through the wall\nBefore anyone could even hear the first shot go off\nI'm posted up by the bar having a Mazel Tov\nBullet whizzed right by my ear damn near shot it off\nThank god I'm alive I gotta find a nine\nAnd where the fuck is Von he usually tucks one on him\nWait a minute I think I just saw Bizarre\nNah I guess not, what the fuck oh my god it was\nI never saw him run so fast in my life\nLook at him hauling ass I think he left his wife\nThere she is on the ground being trampled\nI go to grab her up by the damn hand but I can't pull her\nGod damn there just went another damn bullet I'm hit\nMy vest is barely able to handle it, it's too thin\nIf I get hit again I can't do it, I scoop Dee\nFollow Bizarre's path and ran through it\nMade it to the front door and collapsed on the steps\nLooked up and I seen Swift shooting it out\nBut I can't see who he's shooting it out with\nBut Denaun's right behind him squeezing his four fifth\n\n\n\n\nIt's Friday night came to this bitch right\nBig ass in my left hand, Desert Eagle in my right\nI ain't come in this bitch to party I came in this bitch to fight\nAlthough I can't stay here to fight 'cause I'm popping niggas tonight\nThat's right bitches I'm drunk with revenge\nShot a bouncer in the neck for tryna check when I get in\nSwift told me to meet him here so it's clear that this fucker\nShoot out the back of his truck goes up in this motherfucker\nSo one shot for the money two's to stop the show\nThird's for the bartender there's plenty of shots to go\n(I just wanna know who's driving a black Mitsubishi)\nHe tried to run so Proof shot him in the knee with a three piece"},
{"year": "2005", "title": "Dead Wrong (Remix)", "album": "\"Curtain Call\" (2005)", "lyrics": "Bad Boy baby\n Yeah.. yeah..\nJunior M.A.F.I.A., yeah..\n Yeah.. B.I.G. 2000\nB.I.G. 2000 Born Again.. c'mon..\n\n\nThe weak or the strong, who got it goin on\nYou're dead wrong\nThe weak or the strong, who got it goin on\nYou're dead wrong\n\n\nRelax and take notes, while I take tokes of the marijuana smoke\nThrow you in a choke - gun smoke, gun smoke\nBiggie Smalls for mayor, the rap slayer\nThe hooker layer - motherfucker say your prayers\nHail Mary full of grace.. smack the bitch in the face;\ntake her Gucci bag and the North Face \noff her back, jab her if she act\nfunny with the money oh you got me mistaken honey\nI don't wanna rape ya, I just want the paper\nThe Visa, kapeesha? I'm out like, \"The Vapors\"\nWho's the one you call Mr. Macho, the head honcho\nSwift fist like Camacho, I got so\nmuch style I should be down wit the Stylistics\nMake up to break up  niggaz need to wake up\nSmell the indonesia; beat you to a seizure\nThen fuck your moms, hit the skins til amnesia\nShe don't remember shit! Just the two hits!\nHer hittin the floor, and me hittin the clits!\nSuckin on the tits! Had the hooker beggin for the dick\nAnd your moms ain't ugly love; my dick got rock quick\nI guess I was a combination of House of Pain and Bobby Brown\nI was \"Humpin Around\" and \"Jump-in Around\"\nJacked her then I asked her who's the man; she said, \"B-I-G\"\nThen I bust in her E-Y-E (Yo Big, you're dead wrong)\n\n\n\n\nWhen I get dusted, I like to spread the blood like mustard\nTrust it, my hardcore rain leaves you rusted\nMove over Lucifer, I'm more ruthless, huh\nLeave your toothless, you'll kibbitz, I'll flip it\nTears don't affect me, I hit 'em with the tech G\nDisrespect me - my potency is deadly\nI'm shootin babies, no ifs ands or maybes\nHit mummy in the tummy if the hooker plays a dummy\nSlit the wrist of little sis\nAfter she sucked the dick, I stabbed her brother with the icepick\nbecause he wanted me to fuck him from the back\nbut Smalls don't get down like that\nGot your father hidin in a room; fucked him with the broom\nSlit him down the back and threw salt in the wound\nWho you think you're dealin with?\nAnybody step into my path is fuckin feelin it!\nHardcore, I got it sucked like a pussy\nStab ya til you're gushy, so please don't push.. me\nI'm using rubbers so they won't trace the semen\nThe black demon, got the little hookers screamin\nBecause you know I love it young, fresh and green\nwith no hair in between, know what I mean?\n\n\n\n Ladies and gentlemen..\n\n\nThere's several different levels to Devil worshippin: horse's heads,\nhuman sacrifices, canibalism; candles and exorcism\nAnimals havin sex with 'em; camels mammals and rabbits\nBut I don't get into that, I kick the habit - I just,\nbeat you to death with weapons that eat through the flesh\nAnd I never eat you unless the fuckin, meat looks fresh\nI got a line in my pocket, I'm lyin, I got a nine in my pocket\nand baby I'm just, dyin to cock him\nHe's ready for war, I'm ready for war\nI got machetes and swords for any faggot that said he was raw\nMy uz' as, heavy as yours, yeah you met me before\nI just didn't have as large an arsenal of weapons before\nMarshall will step in the door, I lay your head on the floor\nWith your body spread on the bedspread, red on the wall\nred on the ceilin, red on the floor, get a new whore\nMet on the second, wet on the third;\nthen she's dead on the fourth - I'm dead wrong"},
{"year": "2005", "title": "Lose Yourself", "album": "\"Curtain Call\" (2005)", "lyrics": "Look, if you had, one shot, or one opportunity\nTo seize everything you ever wanted. In one moment\nWould you capture it, or just let it slip?\nYo\n\nHis palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy\nThere's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti\nHe's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready to drop bombs,\nBut he keeps on forgetting what he wrote down,\nThe whole crowd goes so loud\nHe opens his mouth, but the words won't come out\nHe's choking how, everybody's joking now\nThe clock's run out, time's up, over, blaow!\nSnap back to reality. Oh, there goes gravity\nOh, there goes Rabbit, he choked\nHe's so mad, but he won't give up that\nEasy, no\nHe won't have it, he knows his whole back's to these ropes\nIt don't matter, he's dope\nHe knows that but he's broke\nHe's so sad that he knows\nWhen he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's\nBack to the lab again, yo\nThis whole rhapsody\nHe better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him\n\n\nYou better lose yourself in the music, the moment\nYou own it, you better never let it go (go)\nYou only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow\nThis opportunity comes once in a lifetime (yo)\nYou better lose yourself in the music, the moment\nYou own it, you better never let it go (go)\nYou only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow\nThis opportunity comes once in a lifetime (yo)\n(You better)\n\nThe soul's escaping, through this hole that is gaping\nThis world is mine for the taking\nMake me king, as we move toward a new world order\nA normal life is boring, but superstardom's close to postmortem\nIt only grows harder, homie grows hotter\nHe blows. It's all over. These hoes is all on him\nCoast to coast shows, he's known as the globetrotter\nLonely roads, God only knows\nHe's grown farther from home, he's no father\nHe goes home and barely knows his own daughter\nBut hold your nose 'cause here goes the cold water\nHis hoes don't want him no more, he's cold product\nThey moved on to the next schmoe who flows\nHe nose dove and sold nada\nSo the soap opera is told and unfolds\nI suppose it's old partner, but the beat goes on\nDa da dum da dum da da da da\n\n\n\nNo more games, I'mma change what you call rage\nTear this motherfucking roof off like two dogs caged\nI was playing in the beginning, the mood all changed\nI've been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage\nBut I kept rhyming and stepped right into the next cypher\nBest believe somebody's paying the Pied Piper\nAll the pain inside amplified by the\nFact that I can't get by with my 9 to 5\nAnd I can't provide the right type of life for my family\n'Cause man, these goddamn food stamps don't buy diapers\nAnd it's no movie, there's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life\nAnd these times are so hard, and it's getting even harder\nTrying to feed and water my seed, plus\nTeeter totter caught up between being a father and a primadonna\nBaby, mama drama's screaming on her\nToo much for me to wanna\nStay in one spot, another day of monotony's gotten me\nTo the point, I'm like a snail\nI've got to formulate a plot or I end up in jail or shot\nSuccess is my only motherfucking option, failure's not\nMom, I love you, but this trailer's got to go\nI cannot grow old in Salem's lot\nSo here I go it's my shot.\nFeet, fail me not\nThis may be the only opportunity that I got\n\n\n\nYou can do anything you set your mind to, man"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Same Song & Dance", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Yo... Same song and dance Damn girl, everywhere I go Same song and dance \r\nI like the way you move! All over the globe Same song and dance Something about it man \r\nSame song and dance In the Pale Moonlight Yo... \r\n\r\nI'm lookin' at ya, yeah girl Your kind of tookin' back by The whole rapper thing aren't ya? \r\nProbably thinkin' you'll get slapped so dang hard ya Won't even be able to stand up straight, aren't ya?\r\nCouple rape charges, people think you're a monster \r\nThe police constantly buggin' ya non-stop I walk up on ya, well hello Tonya \r\nI think ya got your OnStar button inside your car stuck.\r\nYou outta gas, do you gotta flat? \r\nI would hate for you to be stranded at the laundromat I got your back \r\nWhy don't you put your laundry basket in the back\r\nAnd sit up front, not askin' it's a trap \r\nYou just got jacked and body snatched and it's a rap\r\nIn broad day, with no mask for this attack I heard 'em say, exact opposites attract\r\nIf that's a fact, it'll take task force to get ya back\r\nC'mon \r\n\r\nYeah baby, do that dance It's the last dance you'll ever get the chance to do \r\nGirl shake that ass You ain't ever gonna break that glass\r\nThe windshields too strong for you I said yeah baby, sing that song\r\nIt's the last song you'll ever get the chance to sing \r\nYou sexy little thing Show me what you got, give it your all\r\nLook at you bawl, why you cryin' to me?\r\nSame song and dance... \r\n\r\nThe first victim I had, she was a big one Big movie star, a party girl, big fun \r\nShe was the girl the media always picked on In and out of rehab, every 4 to 6 months \r\nShe was always known for little pranks and slick stunts\r\nAnd Nickelodeon flashed her little kids once\r\nWhat an event it was,\r\nI was sitting in front I was hooked in it the first glimpse of them buns\r\nSeen her back stage now here's where I come in son\r\nLook here she comes I better pull out the big guns\r\nHello Lindsay, you're looking a little thin hun \r\nHow bout a ride to rehab, get in cunt\r\nStarting off on the wrong foot is what I didn't want \r\nGirl I'm just kidding let me start over again hun\r\nSee what I meant was, we should have a little intervention\r\nCome with me to Brighton, let me relieve your tension \r\nYou little Wench ya, murder wasn't my intention If I wanted to kill you it would of already been done\r\nSlowly she gets in and I begin to lynch her With sixty-six inches of extension... cord. \r\n\r\nYeah baby, do that dance It's the last dance you'll ever get the chance to do \r\nGirl shake that ass You ain't ever gonna break that glass\r\nThe windshields too strong for you I said yeah baby, sing that song\r\nIt's the last song you'll ever get the chance to sing \r\nYou sexy little thing Show me what you got, give it your all\r\nLook at you bawl, why you cryin' to me? Same song and dance... \r\n\r\nMy second victim was even bigger then the first\r\nPop star, icon, the whole works \r\nShe played a little schoolgirl when she first burst\r\nUpon the scene and seen that the world was hers\r\nShe twirls and turns and flirts in skirts so bad it hurts\r\nIt irked me and made me mad at first I lashed out through my songs but what was really going on \r\nWas that I had developed a crush I just didn't know how to tell it to her... \r\nShould I cut off one of my ears and mail it to her?\r\nSend her pictures of my collections of skeletons of, footage of me impaling myself on an elephant tusk? \r\nWe'll settle this once and for all, I'mma tell her at dusk Tonight, tonight is the night and tell her I must \r\nCreep up, to her mansion in stilettos and just climb the gate and ring the bell like hello my love,\r\nI just picked your prescription for Seroquel up!\r\nNow would you like to share a pill or two with me?\r\nI'll share my valium with you cause I'm feelin you Britney! \r\nI'll trade you a blue one for a pink one Ever since a schoolgirl juvenile delinquent \r\nI've been feeling you ooh ooh girl you sexy little gal you\r\nHold that pill any longer it'll get sentimental value\r\nCome-on toots, give me the valium alleyoop... \r\nI'll slam dunk it in your mouth til you puke\r\nAnd just as soon you pass out in your alphabet soup I'm 'bout to, make a new outfit out of you\r\nNew outfit? Shit I'll make a suit out of you \r\nShoot! Now show me how you move baby do how well ya do \r\n\r\nYeah baby, do that dance\r\nIt's the last dance you'll ever get the chance to do \r\nGirl shake that ass\r\nYou ain't ever gonna break that glass\r\nThe windshields too strong for you I said yeah baby, sing that song\r\nIt's the last song you'll ever get the chance to sing \r\nYou sexy little thing\r\nShow me what you got, give it your all\r\nLook at you bawl, why you cryin' to me?\r\nSame song and dance... \r\n\r\nSame kickin' and screamin' same cryin' and sobbin' Same song and dance... \r\nSame diggin' and pleadin' same yellin' and bleedin' Same song and dance \r\nYeah Same song and dance  know Same song and dance"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "We Made You", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Guess who? Did you miss me?\nJessica Simpson, sing the chorus!\n\n\nWhen you walked through the door, it was clear to me (Clear to me!)\nYou're the one who they adore, who they came to see (Who they came to see!)\nYou're a rockstar (Baby!)\nEverybody wants you (Everybody wants you)\nPlayer!\nWho could really blame you? (Who could really blame you?)\nWe're the ones who made you!\n\n\nBack by popular demand\nNow pop a little Zantax or antacid if you can\nYou're ready to tackle any task that is at hand\nHow does it feel: Is it fantastic, is it grand?\nWell look at all the massive masses in the stands\nShady man, no, don't massacre the fans\nDamn, I think Kim Kardashian's a man\nShe stomped him, just 'cause he asked to put his hands\nOn her massive, gluteus maximus again\nSqueeze it and squash it and pass it to a friend\nCan he come back as nasty as he can?\nYes he can, Cam, don't ask me this again\nHe does not mean to lesbian offend\nBut Lindsay, please come back to seein' men\nSamantha's a two, you're practically a ten\nI know you want me girl, in fact I see ya grin\nNow come in girl!\n\n\n\n\nThe enforcer, look at the more women to torture\nWalk up to the cutest girl and Charlie-horse her\nSorry Portia, but what's Ellen DeGeneres\nHave that I don't? Are you tellin' me tenderness?\nWell I could be as gentle and as smooth as a gentleman\nGive me my Ventolin inhaler and two Xenadrine\nAnd I'll invite Sarah Palin out to dinner then\nNail her, maybe say, \"Hello to my little friend\"\nBrit, forget K-Fed, let's cut out the middleman\nForget him or you'll end up in the hospital again\nAnd this time it won't be for the Ritalin binge\nForget them other men, girl pay them little attention\nAnd little did I mention that Jennifer's in love with me John Mayer, so sit on the bench\nMan, I swear them other guys you give 'em an inch\nThey take a mile, they got style, but it isn't Slim\n\n\n\nAnd that's why, my love, you never live without\nI know you want me girl\n'Cause I can see you checkin' me out\nAnd baby, you know, you know you want me too\nDon't try to deny it, baby, I'm the only one for you\n\n\nDamn girl, I'm beginning to sprout then Alfalfa\nWhy should I wash my filthy mouth out?\nYou think that's bad, you should hear the rest of my album\nNever has their been such finesse and nostalgia\nMan Cash, I don't mean to mess with ya gal but\nJessica Alba, put a breast in my mouth, bruh\nWowzers! I just made a mess in my trousers\nAnd they wonder why I keep dressing like Elvis\nLord help us, he's back and in his pink Alf shirt\nLookin' like someone shrinked his outfit\nI think he's bout to flip, Jessica\nRest assured, Superman's here to rescue ya\nCan you blame me? You're my Amy, I'm your Blake\nMatter fact, make me a birthday cake\nWith a sawblade in it to make my jailbreak\nBaby, I think you just met your soulmate\nNow break it down, girl!\n\n\n\n\nSo baby, baby\nGet down, down, down (Baby!)\nGet down, down, down (Baby!)\nGet down, down, down (Baby!)\nGet down, get down (Baby!)\nGet down, down, down (Baby!)\nGet down, down, down (Baby!)\nGet down, down, down (Baby!)\nGet down, get down\n\n\nOh Amy!\nRehab never looked so good!\nI can't wait!\nI'm going back!\nHaha! Whoo!\nDr. Dre\n2020\nYeah!"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Must Be The Ganja", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Yea, (oh, oh), yea yea, oh\nI feel like dancing, I feel like dancing\nI smell something in the air that's making me high\nI said I smell something in the air that's making me high\n\n\n(Ok here we go) do-re-me-fa-so-fa-so-la-ti-da-so\nLyrical Roscoe kick back a Tabasco\nYou motherfuckers must just not know the tic- toe so\nTime to show you the most kick-ass flow in the cosmos\nPicasso with a pick-axe a sick asshole\nTic-tac-toe 'cross your six- pack with X-acto\nKnives, stranglin' wives with thick lasso\nBig bags of the grass, Zig Zags, I'm with the Doc, so\nYou know how that go- skull and the cross bones\nThis is poison to boys and girls who do not know\nYou do not wanna try this at home my little vato\nThis is neither the time nor the place to get macho\nSo crack a six-pack, sit back with some nachos\nMaybe some popcorn watch the show, and just rock slow\nIt's not what you expected, nor what you thought so\n'Bout time that you wake the fuck up smell the pot smoke\n\n\nIt must be the ganja, it's the marijuana\nThat's creeping up on me why I'm so high\nMaybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me\nWhatever's got into me I don't mind\nI said it's the ganja it's the marijuana\nThat's creeping up on me why I'm so high\nMaybe it's the Henny that has gotten in me\nWhatever's got into me I don't mind\n\n\nYour dreams are getting fulfilled, ooh I'm literally getting a chill\nSpitting at will, me and Dre have just finished splitting a pill\nYour submitting to skill, sitting still I'm admitting I'm beginning to feel\nLike I don't think anyone's real\nFaced with a dilemma, I can be Dahli Lama\nAnd be calm or bring drama step beyond a Jeffery Dahmer\nPlease don't upset me mamma, yer lookin' sexy mamma\nDon't know if it's the la-la or the rum and Pepsi mamma\nDon't wanna end up inside my refrigerator freezer\nBe used as extra topping next time I make a pizza\nHow many people you know who can name every serial killer who ever existed in a row?\nPut 'em in chronological order beginning with Jack the Ripper\nName the time and place from the body the bag the zipper\nLocation of the woods where the body was dragged and then dumped\nThe trunk that they were stuffed in the model the make the plate\nAnd which model which lake they found her and how they attacked the victim\nSay which murder weapon was used to do what in which one?\nWhich knife and which gun, what kid what wife and which nun?\nDon't stop I like this it's fun, the fuckin' night's just begun\n\n\n\n\nWhen I'm behind the mic, dynamite's what it's kinda like\nYou're stuck with the same stick that your tryin' to light\nBehind the boards sits Dre, legends are made this way\nIsn't it safe to say, this is the way it should be?\nMaybe you need some lyric serum syrup for your symptoms\nHere's a dosage of the antidote now you give him some\nHe can give her some, she can give them some, get behind a Linn Drum\nMake up a beat and cure the sucker syndrome\nThe spinnin' drum when it comes to lyrics and pennin' some\nStarting from scratch and then ending up at the endin' of\nCapable of winning a Pulitzer so unbelievable it's a\nTitanium cranium that's full of sur-\nPrises when the smoke rises right before your very own eyes\nYou stare into your stereos high\nGood evening, this isn't even a weed thing\nI ain't even smoke anything I ain't even drinking"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "Won't Back Down", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "You can sound the alarm\nyou can call out your guards\nyou can fence in your yard\nyou can hold all the cards\nbut I won't back down\noh no I wont back down\noh no\n\n\nCadillac Sevilles, Coupe Devilles\nbrain dead rims yeah stupid wheels\ngirl I'm too for real\nlose your tooth and nails\ntry to fight it, try to deny it\nstupid you will feel\nwhat I do, I do it well\nshooting from the hip, yeah boy shoot to kill\nhalf a breath left on my death bed\nscreaming, \"F that!\" yeah super ill\nbaby what the deal\nwe can chill, split half a pill and a happy meal\nfuck a steak slut\nI cut my toes off and step on the receipt before I foot the bill\nlisten garden tool don't make me introduce you to my power tool\nyou know the fucking drill\nhow you douche bags feel knowing you're disposable?\nsummer's eve Massengill\nshady's got the mass appeal baby crank the shit\ncause it's your Goddamn jam\nyou say that you want your punchlines a little more compact\nwell shawty I'm that man\nthese other cats ain't metaphorically where I'm at man\nI gave Bruce Wayne a Valium and said\nsettle ya fucking ass down I'm ready for combat, man\nget it calm Batman?\nnah, ain't nobody whose as bomb and as nuts\nlines are like mom's cat scans\ncause they fucking go bananas\nhoney I applaud that ass\nswear to God, man, these broads can't dance\nma, show \u2018em how it's done\nspazz like a God Damn Tas, yeah\n\n\n\n\nGirl, shake that ass like a Donkey with Parkinson's\nMake like Michael J Fox in the drawers playin' with a etch-a-sketch\nbet you that you'll never guess who's knocking at your door\npeople hit the floors\nyeah tonight ladies you gon get divorced\ngirl forget remorse, I'ma hit you broads with\nChris's force like you pissed him off\ntalented with the tongue motherfucker\nyou ain't gotta lick in yours\nhittin' licks like I'm robbin' liquor stores\nmakin' cash registers shit their draws\nthink you spit the rawest\nI'm an uncooked slab of beef\nlaying on your kitchen floor\nin other words I'm off the meat rack\nbring the beat back\nbring me two extension chords\nI'mma measure my dick shit I need 6 inches more\nfuck my dicks big bitch\nneed I remind you that I don't need the fucking swine flu to be a sick pig?\nyou're addicted I'm dope\nI'm the longest needle around here\nneed a fix up I'm the big shot\nget it dicks snots\nyou're just small boats little pricks\ngirl you think that other prick's hot\nI'll drink gasoline and eat a lit match\n\u2018fore I sit back and let \u2018em get hot\nbetter call the cops on \u2018em quick fast\nshady's right back on your bitch ass\nwhite trash with a half a six pack in his hatchback\ntrailer hitch attached to the back (dispatch)\n\n\n\n\nBitch, am I the reason that your boyfriend stopped rapping?\ndoes a bird chirp? Lil' Wayne slurps syrup til he burps\nand smokes purp\ndoes a word search gets circles wrapped around it like you do when I come through?\nI'd like you to remind yourself\nof what the fuck I can do when I'm on the mic\nor you're the kind of girl that I can take a liking to\npsych I'm spiking you like a football\nbeen this way since I've stood a foot tall\nyou're a good catch with a shitty spouse\ngot a pretty mouth and a good jaw\ngimme good brain\nwatch the wood grain, don't want no cum stain\nbitch, you listening? Tryna' turn me down\nslut, I'm talking to you, turn me back up\nare you insane tryna talk over me in the car\nshut the fuck up while my shit's playin'\nI'ma shit stain on the underwear of life\nwhat's the saying? where there's thunder there's lightning\nand they say that it never strikes twice in the same place\nthen how the fuck have I been hit six times\nin three different locations\non four separate occasions?\nand you can bet your stinking ass\nthat I've come to smash everything in my path\nfork was in the road took the psychopath\npoison ivy wouldn't have me thinking rash\nso hit the dance floor cutie while I do my duty on this microphone\nshake your booty shawty I'm the shit\nwhy you think Proof used to call me Doody?"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "Almost Famous", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "Can't stop now, this may be the last chance that I get\u2014\n(I just wanna be famous).\n\n\nYou dream of trading places,\nI have been changing faces\nYou can not fill these shoes,\nThere is too much to lose.\nWake up behind these trenches,\nYou run around defenseless.\nThere is too much to lose,\nYou can not fill these shoes\nI just want to be famous,\nBut be careful what you wish for\n\n\nI stuck my dick in this game like a rapist\nThey call me Slim Roethlisberger\nI go berserker than a fed-up post-office worker\nA murker with a Mossberg\nI'm pissed off, get murdered\nLike someone took a ketchup squirter\nSquirted a frankfurter\nFor a gangster you sure did shit your pants\nWhen you saw that chainsaw get to waving\nLike a terrible towel\nHow thangs turn out\nWhen his fangs come out\nGet your brains blown out\nThat's what I call blowing your mind\nWhen I cum back\nLike nut on your spine\nI'm the thumb tack\nThat you slept on son\nNow here I come screaming \"a tac!\" like I just stepped on one\nLow on the totem till he showed 'em\nDefiance, giant scrotum\nHe don't owe 'dem bitches shit\nHis britches, he out growed 'em\nHe's so out cold he's knocked out at the South Pole\nAnd nobody fucks with him\nRigor mortis and post mortem\nHe's dying of boredom\nTake your best rhymes, record 'em\nTo try to thwart him\nHe'll just take your punch lines and snort 'em\nShit stained drawers\nYou gon' fuck with a guy who licks the blades of his chainsaws\nWhile he dips 'em in PF Chang's sauce\nGames off, homie, hang it up like some crank calls\nYou think I'm backing down\nYou must be out of your dang skulls\nI'm almost famous\n\n\n\n\nI'm back for revenge\nI lost a battle that ain't happening again\nI'm at your throat like strep\nI step, strapped with a pen\nMetaphors wrote on my hand,\nSome are just stored in my memory\nSome are wrote on a napkin\nI do what I have to to win\nPullin' out all stops, any who touch a mic prior's\nNot even Austin Powers, how the fuck are they Mike Meyers\nAnd tell that psycho to pass the torch\nTo the whacko 'fore I take a shit in his Jack-O-Lantern\nAnd smash it on his porch\nNow get off my dick\nDick's too short of a word for my dick\nGet off my antidisestablishmentarianism, you prick\nDon't call me the champ; call me the space shuttle destroyer\nI just blew up the Challenger, matta' fact I need a lawyer\nI just laced my gloves wit' enough plaster\nTo make a cast, beat his ass naked and peed in his corner like Vern Troyer\nYa'll are Eminem backwards, your meni me's\nSee he's in a whole 'nother weight class\nHe slugs, you're BB's you're bean bag bullets\nYou're full of it; you were dissin' his CD's\nLaughed at Infinite, now he's back like someone pissed in his Wheaties\nNo peace treaties, he's turned into a beast\nHis new Slim Shady EP's got the attention of the mighty D. R. E.\nHe's almost famous\n\n\n\n\nNow there he goes in Dre's studio cuppin' his balls\nScreaming the wood off the panelling\nCussing the paint off the walls\nSpewing his hate to these haters, showing no love for these broads\nHe ain't given 'em shit, he says he'll pinch a penny so hard\nHe'll leave a bruise on the bronze so dark you can see the mark\nWhen it scars, till Abraham Lincoln is screaming out \"awww!\"\nHis metaphors and similes ain't similar to them, not at all\nIf they don't like it, they can all get fucked instead of sucking him off\nThey can go get a belt or a neck tie, to hang themselves by\nLike David Carradine they can go fuck themselves and just die\nAnd eat shit while they at it\nHe's fucking had it, he's mad at the whole world\nSo go to hell and build a snowman, girl\nThe bullies become bullied, if pussies get pushed\nThen they better pull me, take me back to 9th grade to school me\n'Cause I ain't looking back, only forward, this whole spot blow it\nWho could have known he'd grow to be a poet and not know it\nAnd while I'm being poetic let me get historic and raise the bar\nHigher than my opinion of these women's been lowered\nSo bare witness to some biblical shit\nThere's a cold wind blowing\nThis world ain't gonna know what hit it\nHe did it, he made it, he's finally famous"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Asshole", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "Came to the world at a time when it was in need of a villain\nAn asshole, that role think I succeeded fulfillin'\nBut don't think I ever stopped to think that I was speaking to children\nEverything was happenin' so fast. It was like I blinked, sold 3 million\nThen it all went blank, all I remember is feelin' ridiculous 'cause I was getting sick of this feelin'\nLike I'm always under attack, man, I coulda stacked my shit list to the ceilin'\nWomen dishin' but really\nThinkin' if anyone ever talks to one of my little girls like this I would kill him\nGuess I'm a little bit of a hypocrite when I'm rippin' shit. But since when did this many\nPeople ever give a shit what I had to say? It's just my opinion\nIf it contradicts how I'm livin' put a dick in your rear-end\nThat's why every time you mention a lyric\nI thanked you for it, for drawin' more attention toward it\n'Cause it gave me an enormous platform, I'm flattered you thought I was that important\nBut you can't ignore the fact that I fought for the respect and battled for it\nMad awards, had GLAAD annoyed atta-boy\nThey told me to slow down, I'd just zone-out\nGood luck tryin' to convince a blonde, it's like telling Gwen Stefani that she sold out\n'Cause I was trying to leave No Doubt\nIn anyone's mind one day I'd go down in history think they know now\nBecause everybody knows\n\n\nEverybody knows, that you're just an asshole\nEverywhere that you go, people want to go home, everyone knows\nEverybody knows, so don't pretend to be nice\nThere's no place you can hide, you are just an asshole\nEveryone knows, everyone knows\nThanks for the support, asshole \n\n\nQuit actin' salty, I was countin' on you to count me out\nAsk Asher Roth when he round about dissed me to shout me out\nThought I was history, well God damn honky that compliment's like back-handin' a donkey, good way to get your ass socked in the mouth\nNah, I'm off him, but what the fuck's all this trash talking about?\nThe fight was fixed, I'm back and you can't stop me you knocked me down\nI went down for the count, I fell but the fans caught me and now\nYou're gonna have to beat the fuckin' pants off me to take my belt\nWord to Pacquiao, mama said there ain't nothing else to talk about\nBetter go in that ring and knock 'em out, or you better not come out\nIt's poetry in motion like Freddie Roach when he's quotin'\nShake-speare, so what if insults are revoltin'\nEven Helen Keller knows life stinks\nYou think it's a joke 'till your bullet riddled, but you should give little shit what I think\nThis whole world is a mess,\ngotta have a goddamn vest\non your chest\nand a Glock just to go watch Batman\nWho needs to test a testicles? Not that man\nHalf you don't got the guts, intestinal blockage, rest of you got lap bands\nStuck to this motto 'fore they put bath salts in all those\nWater bottles in Colorado, so get lost, Waldo my soul's escaping through this asshole that is gaping\nA black hole and I'm swallowin' this track whole, better pack toilet paper\nBut I'm takin' no crap hoe, here I go down the Bat Pole and I'm changing back into that ole maniac in fact there they go, tryin' to dip out the back door retreating\n'Cause everybody knows\n\n\n\n\nHoly mackerel. I'm the biggest jerk on the planet Earth. I smacked a girl\nOff the mechanical bull at a tractor pull\nFor thinkin' we had some magnetic pull\nThen screamed \"ICP in this bitch! How do fuckin' magnets work?\"\n'Cause you're attractive but we ain't attractable,\nhate to be dramatical but I'm not romantical\nI'm makin' up words, so you can understandable\nIt's tragical, thinkin' some magical shit's gonna happen, that ain't practical\nYou crackin' a joke? It's laughable\n'Cause me and love's like a bad combination I keep them feelings locked in a vault, so it's safe to say I'm uncrackable\nMy heart is truly guarded\nFull body armor bitch, you just need a helmet 'cause if you think you special, you're retarded\nThinkin' you're one of a kind like you got some platinum vagina\nYou're a trainwreck, I got a one-track mind and, shorty, you're fine but you sorta remind me of a 49'er\n'Cause you've been a gold digger since you was a miner\nBeen tryin' to hunt me down like a dog 'cause you're on my ass but you can't get a cent\n'Cause all of my spare time's spent\nOn my nose in this binder, so don't bother tryin'\nOnly women that I love are my daughters, but sometimes I rhyme\nAnd it sounds like I forget I'm a father and I push it farther, so, Father, forgive me if I forget to draw the line\nIt's apparent I shouldn't have been parent I'll never grow up, so to Hell with your parents and 'mother' fuck 'father' time\nIt ain't never gonna stop, a pessimist who transformed to an optimist in his prime\nSo even if I'm half-dead, I'm half alive\nPoured my half-empty glass in a cup now my cup has runneth over\nAnd I'm about to set it on you like a motherfucking coaster\nI'm goin' back to what got me here, yeah cocky and\nCan't knock bein' Rudolph, so fear not my deer\nAnd dry up your tear drops I'm here\nWhite America's mirror, so don't feel awkward or weird\nIf you stare at me and see yourself, 'cause you're one too, shouldn't be a shock be\n'Cause everybody knows"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Headlights", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "Mom, I know I let you down\nAnd though you say the days are happy\nWhy is the power off, and I'm fucked up?\nAnd, Mom, I know he's not around\nBut don't you place the blame on me\nAs you pour yourself another drink, yeah.\n\n\nI guess we are who we are\nHeadlights shining in the dark night I drive on\nMaybe we took this too far\n\n\nI went in headfirst\nNever thinking about who what I said hurt, in what verse\nMy mom probably got it the worst\nThe brunt of it, but as stubborn as we are\nDid I take it too far?\n\"Cleaning Out My Closet\" and all them other songs\nBut regardless I don't hate you 'cause, Ma,\nYou're still beautiful to me, 'cause you're my mom\nThough far be it from you to be calm, our house was Vietnam\nDesert Storm and both of us put together can form an atomic bomb equivalent to Chemical warfare\nAnd forever we can drag this on and on\nBut, agree to disagree\nThat gift from me up under the Christmas tree don't mean shit to me\nYou're kicking me out? It's 15 degrees and it's Christmas Eve (little prick just leave)\nMa, let me grab my fucking coat, anything to have each other's goats\nWhy we always at each other's throats?\nEspecially when dad, he fucked us both\nWe're in the same fucking boat, you'd think that it'd make us close (nope)\nFurther away it drove us, but together headlights shine, a car full of belongings\nStill got a ways to go, back to grandma's house it's straight up the road\nAnd I was the man of the house, the oldest, so my shoulders carried the weight of the load\nThen Nate got taken away by the state at eight years old,\nAnd that's when I realized you were sick and it wasn't fixable or changeable\nAnd to this day we remained estranged and I hate it though, but\n\n\n\n\n'Cause to this day we remain estranged and I hate it though\n'Cause you ain't even get to witness your grand babies grow\nBut I'm sorry, Mama, for \"Cleaning Out My Closet\", at the time I was angry\nRightfully maybe so, never meant that far to take it though,\n'cause now I know it's not your fault, and I'm not making jokes\nThat song I no longer play at shows and I cringe every time it's on the radio\nAnd I think of Nathan being placed in a home\nAnd all the medicine you fed us\nAnd how I just wanted you to taste your own,\nBut now the medications taken over\nAnd your mental state's deteriorating slow\nAnd I'm way too old to cry, the shit is painful though\nBut, Ma, I forgive you, so does Nathan, yo\nAll you did, all you said, you did your best to raise us both\nFoster care, that cross you bear, few may be as heavy as yours\nBut I love you, Debbie Mathers, oh, what a tangled web we have,\n'cause one thing I never asked was\nWhere the fuck my deadbeat dad was\nFuck it, I guess he had trouble keeping up with every address\nBut I'd have flipped every mattress, every rock and desert cactus\nOwn a collection of maps and followed my kids to the edge of the atlas\nSomeone ever moved them from me? That you coulda bet your asses\nIf I had to come down the chimney dressed as Santa, kidnap them\nAnd although one has only met their grandma once\nYou pulled up in our drive one night as we were leaving to get some hamburgers\nMe, her and Nate, we introduced you, hugged you\nAnd as you left I had this overwhelming sadness come over me\nAs we pulled off to go our separate paths,\nAnd I saw your headlights as I looked back\nAnd I'm mad I didn't get the chance to thank you for being my Mom and my Dad\nSo, Mom, please accept this as a tribute I wrote this on the jet\nI guess I had to get this off my chest,\nI hope I get the chance to lay it before I'm dead\nThe stewardess said to fasten my seatbelt, I guess we're crashing\nSo if I'm not dreaming, I hope you get this message that I'll always love you from afar\n'Cause you're my Ma\n\n\n\n\nI want a new life (start over)\nOne without a cause (clean slate)\nSo I'm coming home tonight (yeah)\nWell, no matter what the cost\nAnd if the plane goes down\nOr if the crew can't wake me up\nWell, just know that I'm alright\nI was not afraid to die\nOh, even if there's songs to sing\nWell, my children will carry me\nJust know that I'm alright\nI was not afraid to die\nBecause I put my faith in my little girls\nSo I never say, \"Goodbye, cruel world.\"\nJust know that I'm alright\nI am not afraid to die\n\n\n\nI want a new life"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "Ballin' Uncontrollably", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "Ballin' Uncontrollably\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nB-ballin' Uncontrollably\n\n\nMan, I got everything candy-painted\nCandy-painted tint, shit's so dark\nI'd be lying if I said I ain't hit\nat least nine of my friends\nPlus, I got so much candy paint in my rims\nPaint be flyin' off my car\nBe candy paintin' the neighborhood kids\nI got that whole block lookin' like it's Candyland\nAsk about me, man, they be like, there go the candy man\nI park the car in the garage and go in and\nCome back the next mornin'\nThe rims are still spinnin'\nHit the wheels on that Phantom, man, that shit looks like the Batmobile\n32-inch rims, shit, I ain't even got no wheels\nCustom-fitted, custom-kitted wood grain\nCustom everything, what's that on the seat?\nCustom mustard stain\nNow let's go hit the mall, y'all know that we finna ball\nGet out the car, they be like, \"Ah, there go them superstars!\"\nHit every single store, flash a fucking wad of cash\nbut I ain't buying shit, bitch\nKiss my candy-painted ass\nWe...\n\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nB-ballin' Uncontrollably\n\n\nYeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nHit the corner liquor store\nTo get Corona, tip the owners\nSipped it on the way out as I dipped, I wanna rip the road up\nAnd I'ma hit the cinema and I'ma get the hoes,\nWhen I be it, I be it, shit, anything goes\nI'm ballin' out of control, girls know I'm loaded with dough\nBut, shit, I'm stingy as fuck\nI'm fuckin' stingy as hoes\nThese bitches don't get a crumb, and it come\nbut I'm like what up\nShut up, bitch, sit up, get up off them knees\nMy candy paint's enough\nIf you're lucky, I'll let you hug me, but that's all you get\nThen I'ma split, disappear, a cloud of smoke is all you see\nYeah...\n\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nB-ballin' Uncontrollably\n\n\nBitch, get the fuck out my car if we ain't finna fuck\nI'm horny as fuck, bitch, are you suckin' my dick or what?\nI'll fuck a chick in the butt, I really don't give a shit\nIs pretty Marshall gonna have to go choke me a bitch?\nYou fuckin' keyed up my Benz\nBitch, I beat up my friends\nDon't think I won't beat a bitch\nI'll kick a six-year-old in the ribs\nYou fuckin' retard, I'll have you suckin' farts out my seat\nI'll teach you not to know how to control your bowels when you eat\nWhat the fuck do you think that colostomy bag is for, looks?\nI ain't waste nine bullets on you for you to not sing no hooks\nI fuckin' take a Make a Wish Foundation patient with me\nHow 'bout some coke inside of your saline solution IV?\nTurn around and use it on me\nYou tryna snort on my keys?\nYou fuckin' broad, get in back, you're comin' to Florida with me,\nTell your momma I'ma drop you off at the hospital later\nWe finna make this run\nTake this gun and cover me, Slater\nAnd quit your...\n\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nBallin' Uncontrollably\nB-ballin' Uncontrollably"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "G.O.A.T.", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "I'm a goat\nand for those of y'all who don't know what a goat is\nit means the greatest of all time\nand I consider myself one of those\nso thank you very much, here it goes!\n\nThis is the part I was worried about\neveryone thinks that my career is down the tubes\nand I'm in some dusty garage inhaling them carbon monoxide fumes\nand everyone's telling me what I should do\nand how I should come out and what to rap about\nand I know I got a lot up in my medulla oblongata that I gotta get out\nand I'm not sure how this is gonna come off\nthey're probably gonna think that I'm coming off as cocky (haha)\nlike I just started giving a fuck what you really think about me\nsee, the thing about me\nis you don't really know a thing about me\neveryone's making a stink about me\nlike there's some kind of a aura of that of the king around me\nsurround me with nothin' but gangsters, killers, and bangers\nand the most dangerous criminals\nand I feel like I'm more comfortable around them than I do my own motherfuckin' neighbors\nbut, see, my dream is to be remembered as one of the best when I leave\nbut why does it seem like I'm not even put up in the same category as other emcees?\nso when Weezy says that he's better than Jay-z\nplease, be that just subliminally\nmeans he thinks Jigga's the best and that he's\nthe only one up in that league, see\nand it's easy just to consider me one of the greatest white rappers there is\nknowing god damn well that I'm one of the best motherfucking rappers who ever lived period.\n\nI'm a goat\nand I don't mean to gloat\nbut I know what I know and I know what you think\nand these magazines'll never put it in ink\nbecause how would it look if they considered me as a goat?\nand for those of y'all who don't know what a goat is\nit means the greatest of all time\nand I consider myself one of those\nso thank you very much, here it goes!\n\nMaybe they figure that I'm on my way out the game\nso they gotta go try to find em a new Eminem\nor a new Shady, if they think it's gonna happen\nman, I thought I was crazy\nor maybe I could be takin' it wrong and they're tryna pay homage to me in a strange way\nso let me pay homage to my fellow white competitors almost in the same way\nsee, you hardly ever do hear anyone even bringing up that Paul Wall's white\ncause lyrically he doesn't pose a threat to anyone, see, he's just aight\nand Bubba Sparxxx, he just won't write\nbecause he's so caught up in that snow white\nthat Timbaland can't even get him in the studio\nhe's so gone off that coke, right\nand it's so sad, cause he's dope, right\nAmerica's next great white hope, right\nso now they feel like they gotta come up with some corny ass white rapper show, right\nand which I'm still havin' mixed feelings about\nthey said it'd be real, I'm just spillin' it out\nthere's somethin' about a white boy talking black and runnin' around with a damn grill in his mouth\nand I love when the say that Tiger Woods shit\n\"Isn't it ironic that the best rapper's white and the best golfer's black?\"\nand I'm the one who's gotta catch all the flack offa' that\nbut these are the people who never had heard of an Eminem until 8 Mile had came out\nbut I had already hit middle America\nParents had all got to likin' me now\nwhen suddenly I wasn't such a bad guy\nall of the hatred for me must've died\nthought I committed career suicide so I had to turn back into the bad guy\nso faggoty faggoty faggoty gays\nand anatomy God made Raggedy Ann and Andy\nnot Raggedy Andy and Andy and Andy\nand Angelina Jolie is just another ho\nand Brad is a sucka' because once I fuck her\nshe wants to go to Somalia to adopt another baby\nyou know what I say? No\nYou better save some of them kids from Madonna\nshe needs all the publicity she can get\nyou want a Shady? Well, you got it, man\nI ain't apologizin' for shit.\n\nI'm a goat\nand I don't mean to gloat\nbut I know what I know and I know what you think\nand these magazines'll never put it in ink\nbecause how would it look if they considered me as a goat?\nand for those of y'all who don't know what a goat is\nit means the greatest of all time\nand I consider myself one of those\nso thank you very much, here it goes!\n\nMan, I'm takin' my ball and goin' home, man\nshit is too easy\nnobody even wants to pass me the ball cause\n(I'm a goat)\nso don't worry, I'm out the motherfuckin' game\nand y'all can sit and argue about who's the motherfuckin' best\nbut y'all know that\n(I'm a goat)\nand like I said, I'm one of the motherfuckin' best\nbefore you get your panties in a motherfuckin' bunch\nbut before I go, I'd like to say fuck you very much to everybody who wasn't there from the start\nand thank you very much to everybody who was\nand y'all ain't gotta say it, just think it\ncause I know that you know that I know that you know that I know that you know\n(I'm a goat)\n(hahahaha)\nI'm out, y'all\nit's been real, peace"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "The Apple", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "I'm a little nutty and I know it\nbut if you go back and\ntake a look at my history\nyou will see that I'm\nnot the only one who's off his rocker\nthere were many before me \nI was always labelled\nthe black sheep of the family what a bad seed I\ngrow to be but if you take a look\nat us now you'll see the apple didn't fall too far from the tree\n\n\n(haha) alright, look\nI'ma tell you the story\nfrom my side maybe you'll understand check it out \nyou done witnessed\nunexplainable shit\ntoo insane to explain\npeople run from what\nthe just don't get\nmaybe Shady shoulda\njust hit 'em with a little bit\ndid I spit too soon?\nShould I of spoon fed 'em it?\nbut I was just so eager\nto prove I was even worth\nbeing in the same\nleague or the room with of the people\nof whom I was in every now and then I\nlook up like I was seeking approval\nwas it because of the\npigment of my skin\nor was it a figment of\nmy imagination\nmaybe it bothered me\nmore than it did them\nmaybe it wasn't a big\ndeal back then\nbut to me it was, see\nwhat it was was\nI had developed the\ncomplex from being judged\nProof spit his verse,\nnow I'm next, let's see who\nI'm in the booth\nstaring back to see who's mugs\nI get a reaction from,\nusually the first thumb was from\nProof\nand the rest of the\ngroup backed him up\nand no one lied to\neach other cause none of us had deals\nit was real, we just\nwanted tickets for that meal\n\n\nSometimes I feel like\nit's just me\nsometimes I feel like\nI'm going crazy\nbut take a look at my\nfamily\ncause the apple don't\nfall too far from the tree\nI said ...\nsometimes I feel like\nit's just me\nsometimes I feel like\nI'm going crazy\nbut take a look at my\nfamily\ncause the apple don't\nfall too far from the tree\n\n\nEver since my mother\nwas pregnant\nwith her second egg\ncause she said\nthat I had a baby sister\nwho fell out of the window\nI was too young to remember\nKansas City projects\nI was like 5, 6, and how come\nI remember Malcolm,\nIsaac, and Boogie\nif it was the projects in Missouri?\ncause those're my best\nfriends until Isaac\ntook my tricycle and\nmy uncle Todd went to try to go get it back\nand ended up getting\njumped and cut in the gut with a\nswitch and 70-some stitches\nwhich is still, to this day\nwhy my mother still\ntries to show me some old fake picture\nof a fictitious little\nsister who never existed and this is why part of\nmy life's so twisted\nbut I can never be as\nsick as that bitch is\nand, by the way, that\npicture's one of my relatives\n\n \nSometimes I feel like\nit's just me\nsometimes I feel like\nI'm going crazy\nbut take a look at my\nfamily\ncause the apple don't\nfall too far from the tree\nI said ...\nsometimes I feel like\nit's just me\nsometimes I feel like\nI'm going crazy\nbut take a look at my\nfamily\ncause the apple don't\nfall too far from the tree\n\n\nYou probably have to\npeel back layers upon layers of\npain to see why everything\nI say is so insane\nwhat's different about my brain that separates me\nfrom other players in this game? on the surface, it may\nseem like a scheme or some sort of scam\nfor me to get some damn sympathy\nbut that's the last thing\nI need is for people\nto walk around feeling\nsorry for me (me)\nand I'm not a G, never\nclaimed to be\nI gave my vest to\nCashis,\nhe'll need it more than me\nbut we'll see, cause we ain't lookin' for beef\nbut if it comes our\nway, what do we, turn the other\ncheek? come on\n\n\nSometimes I feel like\nit's just me\nsometimes I feel like\nI'm going crazy\nbut take a look at my family\ncause the apple don't\nfall too far from the tree\nI said ...\nsometimes I feel like\nit's just me\nsometimes I feel like\nI'm going crazy\nbut take a look at my\nfamily\ncause the apple don't\nfall too far from the tree"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Parking Lot (Skit)", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "(Don't kill me)\n\n\nHurry the fuck up!\n\nThank you!\n\nGo, go, go (what the f... uck?)\nWhat the fuck are you doing?\nMothafucker bail on me? Fuck you!\n\nAw, you gotta be fucking kidding me...\nAre you fucking kidding me?\nShit!\nGet off\n\n(Haha)\n\nThe parking lot\nShit, ah!\n\n\n(Let me see your hands, prank's over)\n\n\nFuck it!"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Brainless", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "Eminem Has a full line of chainsaws\nEminem... Eminem... Eminem... Eminem... Eminem... Eminem...\nMarshall Mathers, Eminem, the rapper... Eminem\nWho can say fore sure?\nPerhaps a frontal lobotomy would be the answer\nIf science can operate on this distorted brain and put it to good use\nSociety will reap a great benefit\n\n\nI walk around like a space cadet, place your bets\nWho's likely to become a serial killer, case of Tourettes\nFuck fuck fuck can't take the stress\nI make a mess, as the day progresses, angry and take it out on the neighbors hedges\nLike this is how I'll cut your face up, bitches with these hedge trimmin' scissors with razor edges\nImagination's dangerous it's\nThe only way to escape this mess and make the best of this situation, I guess\n'Cause I feel like a little bitch, this predicament's\nDespicable I'm sick of just getting' pushed it's ridiculous\nI look like a freakin' wuss, a pussy this kid just took\nMy stick of licorice and threw my sticker books in a picker bush\nI wanna kick his tush, but I was six and shook\nThis fucker was twelve and was six foot with a vicious hook\nHe hit me I fell, I got back up all I did was book, now there's using your head\nMama always said...\n\n\nIf you had a brain you'd be dangerous, a brain you'd be dangerous\nI'm a prove you wrong\nMama, I'm a grow one day to be famous and I'm a be a pain in the anus\nI'm a be the bomb\nI'm a use my head as a weapon, find a way to escape this insaness\nMama always said, son, if you had a brain you'd be dangerous, guess it pays to be brainless\n\n\nFast forward some years later a teenager, this is fun, sweet\nI just got jumped twice in one week, it's complete\nIt's usually once a month, this is some feat\nI've accomplished they stomped me into the mud, gee for what reason? You stumped me\nBut how do you get the shit beat outta you, beat down and be up beat, when you don't have nothing?\nNo valid shot at life, chance to make it or succeed\n'Cause you're doomed from the start, it's like you grew up on Jump Street from jump street\nBut if I could just get my head out my ass\nI could accomplish any task\nPracticin' trash talkin'\nIn a trance locked in my room, yeah but I got some plans, mama\nThese damn rhymes are failin' outta my pants pocket, I can't stop it\nAnd I'm startin' to blend in more\nIn school this shit helps for sure, I'm gettin' more self assured then I've ever been before\nPlus no one picks on me anymore, I done put a stop to that, threw my first punch- end of story\nStill in my skull's a vacant empty void been usin' it more as a bin for storage\nTake some inventory\nIn this gourde there's a Ford engine, door hinge, syringe, an orange an extension cord and a ninja sword\nNot to mention four linchpins, an astringent stored\nIronin' board a bench, a wrench, a ore, wench an attention whore\nEverything but a brain, but domes off the fuckin' chain like an independent store\nSomething's wrong with my head\nJust think if I had a brain in it, thank God that I don't, cause I'd probably be Dahmer, 'cause mama always said...\n\n\n\n\nNow my mom goes wahm-wahm-wahm\n'Cause I'm not that smart, but I'm not dumb\nI was on he bottom of the pile gettin' stomped\nBut somehow I came out on top\n(Oh-oh-oo-oh)\n\n\nI told you one day, I said they'd have that red carpet rolled out, yo\nI'm nice ya'II, fuck it, I'm out cold\nNow everywhere I go they scream out go, I'm bout to clean house, yo\nI'm Lysol, now I'm just household\nOut sold the sell-outs, freak the hell out middle America, hear 'em yell out, in terror they were so scared and those kids\nJust about, belted out whatever spouted or fell out my smart aleck mouth it was so weird\nInappropriate, so be it I don't see it\nMaybe one day when the smoke clears it won't be as\nMotherfukin, difficult yeah, 'til then hopefully ya\nLittle homos get over your fears and phobias\nIt's ok to be scared-straight they said I provoked queers\n'Til emotions evoke tears, my whole career's\nA stroke of sheer genius, smoke and mirrors tactical practical jokes, yeah\nYou motherfuckin' \"insert insult here\"\nWho the fuck woulda thunk that one little ole' emcee'd\nBe able to take the whole culture and re-upholstery it?\nAnd boy, they did flock, can't believe this little hick locked\nThis hip-hop shit in his hip pocket and still the shit got\nThat white trash traffic in gridlock shit hoppin' like six blocks\nFrom a Kid Rock Insane Clown Posse concert in mid October\nAnd God forbid I see the Wizard and get a brain in my titanium cranium, y'all cause\nI'll turn into the Unabomber mama always said...\n\n\n\n\nInsaneness ain't even a word you stupid fuck\nNeither is ain't"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "So Far...", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "I own a mansion but live in a house\nA king size bed but I sleep on the couch\nI'm Mister Bright Side, glass is half-full\nBut my tanks half-empty, gasket just blew\n\n\nThis always happens\nThirty minutes from home gotta lay a log cabin, only option I have's McDonalds' bathroom\nIn a public stall droppin' a football so every time someone walks in the John I get Maddened\n\"Shady what up\", what? come on man I'm crappin'\nAnd you're askin' for my goddamn autograph on a napkin\nOh, that's odd I just happened\nTo run out of tissue, yeah hand me that on second though I'd be glad then\n\"Thanks dog, names Todd a big fan\" I\nWiped my ass with it, crumbled it up in a wad threw it back and\nTold 'im \"Todd, you're the shit\" when's all of this crap end?\nCan't pump my gas without causin' an accident\nPump my gas, cut my grass, I can't take out the fuckin' trash\nWithout someone passin' through my sub harassin'\nI'd count my blessings but I suck at math\nI'd rather wallow than bask, suffering succotash, but the ant-\nAcid it gives my stomach gas\nWhen I mix my corn with my fuckin' mashed\nPotatoes, so what hoe kiss my country bumpkin ass\nMissouri southern roots, what the fuck is upper class?\nCall lunch dinner, call dinner supper, Tupperware in the cupboard plastic ware up the ass\nStuck in the past iPod what the fuck is that?\nB-Boy to the core mule I'm as stubborn as\n\n\nMaybe that's why It feels so strange\nGot it all but I still won't change\nMaybe that's why I can't leave Detroit\nIt's the motivation that keeps me going\nThis is the inspiration I need\nI could never turn my back on a city that made me\nAnd, life's been good to me so far...\n\n\nThey call me classless I heard that, I second and third that, don't know what the fuck I'd be doin' if it weren't rap\nProbably be a giant turd sack\nBut I blew, never turned back\nTurned forty and still sag, teenagers act more fuckin' mature jack\nFuck you gonna say to me? I'll leave on my own terms ass\nHole I'm goin berserk, my nerves are bad\nBut I love the perks my work has\nI get to meet famous people look at her, dag\nHer. nylons are ran, her skirts snagged and I heard she drag races  swag\nTuck in my Haynes shirt tag\nYou're Danica Patrick (yeah) word skag\nWe'd be the perfect match, cause you're a vacuum, I'm a dirtbag\nMy apologies, no disrespect to technology, but what the heck's all of these buttons you expect me to sit here and learn that?\nFuck I gotta do ta hear this new song from Luda, be an expert at\nComputers? I'd rather be an Encyclopedia Britannica hell with\nPlaystation, I'm still on my first man on some Zelda\nNintendo bitch! run, jump, punch, stab, and I melt the\nMozzarella on my spaghetti put it on bread make a sandwich with Welch's\nAnd belch, they say this spray butter's bad for my health, but\nI think this poor white trash from the trailer\nJed Clampett, Fred Sanford and welfare, mentality helps ta\nKeep me grounded, that's why I never take full advantage of wealth\nI managed to dwell within these parameters still crammin' the shelves full of Hamburger Helper\nI can't even help it, this is the hand I was dealt a\nCreature of habit, feel like I'm trapped in an animal shelter\nWith all these pet peeves, God damn it to hell I\nCan't stand all these kids with their camera cellphones\nI can't go anywhere, I get so mad I could yell the\nOther day someone got all elaborate and stuck a head from a fuckin' dead cat in my mailbox\nWent to Burger King, they spit on my onion rings\nI think my karma's catching up with me\n\n\n\n\nGot friends on Facebook, all over the world\nNot sure what that means, they tell me it's good\nSo I'm artist of the decade, I even got a plaque\nI'd hang it up but the frame is all cracked\n\n\nI'm tryin' ta be low-key, hopefully nobody notices me\nIn produce, hunched over, giant nose bleed\nOgre style as I mosey over to the frozen aisle, by the frozen yogurt this guy approached me\nEmbarrassed, I just did Comerica with Hova the shows over, I'm hidin' in Kroger's buyin' groceries\nHe just had front row seats told me, sign his poster then insults me\n\"Wow up close didn't know you had crows feet!\"\nI'm at a crossroads, lost, still shopping at Costco's\nSloppy joe's bulk waffles\nGot caught pickin' my nose (aaghh!) look over see these two hot hoes\nFinger still up one of my nostrils\nRight next to 'em, stuck at the light the fuckin' shit's\nTakin' forever to change, it's stuck these bitches are lovin' it\nRubbin' it in, chucklin'\nCouldn't do nothin' play it off \"what you bumpin'?\" \"Trunk Muzik, Yelawolf's better\", fuckin' bitch\nThey want me to flip at the label, but I won't succumb to it\nThe pressure, they want me to follow up with a\nNother one after Recovery was so highly coveted\nBut what good is a fuckin' Recovery if I fumble it?\nCause I'm a drop the ball if I don't get a grip, hoppin' out shrubbery on you sons of bitches\nWrong subdivision\nTo fuck with bitch, quit snappin' fuckin' pictures of my kids I love my city\nBut you pushed me to the limit what a pity\nThe shit I complain about\nIt's like there ain't a cloud in the sky, and it's rainin' out\nKool-Aid stain on the couch, I'll never get it out\nBut bitch, I got an elevator in my house, ants and a mouse\nI'm livin' the dream"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Love Game", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "Something's burnin' I can't figure out what\n(Out what) it's either lust, or a cloud of dust, judgment is clouded must\nJust be the powder from the power of\n(Love) but I'm in somethin' I don't know how ta get outta\nLeft my girl in the house alone, is that my 'soon to be spouse's' moan and the further I walk the louder\nPause for a minute to make certain that's what I heard, 'cause after all this is her place\nSo I give her the benefit of the doubt I\nThink I might be about ta busta, bust her, the thought's scary yo, though and it hurts-brace\nHope it ain't \"here we go, yo\" 'cause my head already goes to worst case scenario, though in the first place\nBut you confirmed my low end theory though, should of known when I made it all the way to third base\nAnd that was only the first date, could of made it to home plate\nBut you slid straight for the dome and dove face\nFirst \"no  you don't  under  stand  I  don't  do  this for anyone ever\" - yeah, that ain't what they all say\nI'll say, you can suck a softball through a straw, used to be my fiance, till you sucked on Wayne, Andre and Kanye, Labron, Akon, Jay, Lil' Jon, Raekwon, Mase, Polow da Don, Dre\nDante Ross, James Conway, Kwame\nGuess I'm gettin' my g-God dang Jigga on, eh?\n'Cause your name I'm beyond sayin'\nBut fuck it I'm movin' on, you women are all cray\nBut I'll probably always keep on playin'\nThe game of love, love, love, love, la-la-la-la-la love\n\n\nShe doesn't love me, no she don't love me no more\nShe hates my company, guess she don't love me no more, I tried to get her up out of my head, left my bags at the door\nShe screamed she loved me, like she never did before\nAnd I told her: go where you wanna go, go do what 'cha wanna, I don't care\nAnd I told her: go where you wanna go, go do what 'cha wanna, I don't care\nI told that bitch\n\n\nI'm a sucker for love you, a sucker for dick\nSuckih' dick in your mama tub, then your granny walked in\nTold the stupid nigga to duck unda' the water he drowned, like an abortion, they booked you for manslaughter\nYou beat the case and I called ya'\n'Sherane is not available now leave a message at the tone'\nAnd Kendrick don't forget to buy two pair of those\nExpensive heels ya little fuckin' ferris wheel\nFuckin' spinnin' on me, fuck ya think we're gonna get married still?\nFucking Mary had a little lamb this ain't no fairy tale\nFairy God mama better tell you how I fuckin' feel\nLike you should fuckin' beat it or fuckin' eat it while I'm on my period\nNow have a blessed day... ' bitch you serious?\nI'm in the mirror with this look on my face, curious\nWhy you ain't fuckin' with me, you cut me deep as a cesarean\nYou know I want you bad as a Benjamin, I'm delirious\nI want you bad as the head shattered on George Zimmerman\nAfter the Dillinger hit him diligently and killin' 'im\nHis mouth piece for a Cadillac emblem\nThat's analogy and metaphor for you\nI should win a medal for all the ways I adore you\nThis is me talkin' cordial, yeah I got some home trainin'\nThat ain't what you like, ain't it? what about if I was as famous\nAs Marshall, would you give fellatio in the carpool?\nCops pull us over, they just wanna know if you gargle\nSingin' \"I hope she's good enough\nMeanwhile ya chasing her\"\nChlamydia couldn't even get rid of her, pity the fool and pity the fool in me I'm a live with the\nGame of love, love, love, love, la-la-la-la-la love\n\n\n\n\nSo needless to say, I'm feelin' betrayed, snatch my house key off her key chain\nShe jumps off 'Wee-Bey' from the Wire's dick now she's chasin' me with a cheese grater\nHere goes that broken record cliche, it's all my fault anyway she's turnin' the tables, I'm a beat-break\nShe treats my face like Serato, she cuts and scratches like a deejay, each day is an Instant Replay\nThey say what we display, is symptomatic of attack behave\nIor, back together, but forgot today was her B-Day\nShe cut me off on the freeway\nSimple misunderstandin' but just as I went to slam on the brakes, that's when I realized that she may be crazy as me, wait\nBitch cut my fuckin' brake line, stepped on them fuckers eight times, still goin' 73 thank\nGod there's an exit comin' up, what the mother F-U-cock's\nWrong with her, hit the off-ramp, 'til I coasted to a God damn halt, hit a fucking tree now here she comes at full speed she's racing at me, OK, you wanna fuck with me 'eh?\nSnatch that bitch out her car through the window she's screamin' I body slam her on the cement until the concrete gave\nAnd created a sink hole, buried the stink hoe in it, then paid to have the street repaved\nWoke up in a dream state\nIn a cold sweat like I got hit with a freeze ray, durin' a heat wave\nGuess I eventually caved though, cause she's layin' next to me in bed\nDirectly aimin' a gat at my head\nWoke up again and jumped up like fuck it, I've had it I'm checkin' into rehab\nI confess I'm a static addict I guess\nThat's why I'm so clingy every girl I've ever had either says\nI got too much baggage or I'm too fuckin' dramatic, man what the fuck is the matter? I'm just\nA fuckin' romantic, I fuckin' love you, you fuckin' bitch! combative, possessive, in fact last time I was mad at an ex\nI actually set off a chain reaction of tragic events\nI said \"hit the road\", then after she left I sent that bitch a text\nThat said \"be careful driving don't read this and have an accident! \", she glanced to look at it and wrecked\nToo bad, thought we had a connect- no sense dwelling makes\nNever been a more compelling case, than the model covered in L'oreal and Mace\nWho fell from grace eleven stories, for story telling, while the whore was yelling rape\nTill her vocal chords were swelling and her voice was more horser than Tori Spellings' face\nStill they swarm the gates\nOf my fancy estates to greet Norman Bates with a warm embrace\nLess your Andrea Yates, don't ask me for a date though you're late, well, the sentiment's great\nBut wait, think there's been a mistake\nYou wanted an intimate date, I wanna intimidate\nI have infinite hate in my blood\nIt's mainly cause of the game of\n wait, \"dinner at eight?\"\nI have infinite hate in my blood\nAnd it's mainly cause of the game of love\n\n\nLove, love, love\nLa-la-la-la-la love"},
{"year": null, "title": "2.0 Boys", "album": null, "lyrics": "Ryan's a homocidal misfit\nI write the solution of biophysics\nOn the side of a cliff and some hieroglyphics\nThis my admission to having violence psychotic\nWith the vile polish politics by the way I'm higher than the Eiffel tower tip\nI like writing but I will stick this pencil in your ass before I bite ya shit\nPause, inhale hell n kush, us and Yealwolf like a heavy foot gas pedal push\nFelon's, crooks, going door to door like he's selling books, Dolly Parton style, melons mush\nNow my bitch dancer, I'm bout as sick as cancer\nIf you could swallow my style, you probably rip ya pants off\nIf you could bottle my style and sell it to somebody\nIt'd probably smell like cologne made out of bits of panther\nThey call me anchor man, I'll hold down the ship\nLeave you niggas floating in water and go and drown a fish\nfuck I'm fucking heinous, I'll make you fucking famous\nThem lead showers is coming, fuck is you sayin'\n\n\nFuck, it's fucking raining, shit, it's lightening\nBitch, its thundering, cause I'm hushing up I'm a storm if you wonderin'\nShit, you could muster up a thought, to take a toter? and a brain fart\nWant urine in your face, all you had to do was say it\nYou wish you woulda just stayed pissed off in the first place\nWe came to monopolise the game\nIlluminati is here, yeah, human oddities\nat odds with us, just whats gotta be\nCause we started out cold and it snowballed\nWe froze, soon as we rolled up on these hoes\nAll's we know is you over the bar like Limbo/Limbaugh\nYou know who you are\nSo quit fucking the dark before we start callin' you bizaare\nShit screw the boots, ya'll dun raped a pitbull\nFell in love with Shih-tzu\nThis is directed directly at you\nAnd as for these hoes who don't know me from a can of paint\nYou must be huffin', fuck a ballsack if the taints can't take you on a date\nYou mistake me for a gentleman, your 2000 and late man, Will-I-aint\nI'm the bad guy, type of guy that will drag 5 girls up on stage\nPour ice in their pants and the first one who pee's gets a black eye\n\n\nYou must be outta ya mind\nYou think you fucking with us\nSuck on these nuts\nBitch hang it up, this game is over\n\n\nPuffing loosies, watching I Love Lucy with Gary Busey\nCrazy, how the fuck could you son me? I'm Shady\nWill there ever come a day when they could slay me?\nI don't know, fifth month, black and yellow insect, maybe\nTil then I kill the bad man tryna slay me\nEverything you kick weak, your speak kung fu yazy\nAll my homeboys, 2.0 boys\nNickle, I just picked up a Phantom, look how it rolls, Royce!\nEven if I wanted to quit, I ain't got no choice\nVerses keep coming, I should invoice my own voice\nYou should see the kind of asses that my pole hoist\nHoes be like diamonds in your chain, man, so moist\nBang bang bang bang, house gang, chainsaw\nHere to kill you pussy's, don't ask what we came for\nI write til my right arm vein's sore\nForearm feel like Thor's arm in a gang war\nYou hear that Yaowa, you know who finna file out\nDefinitively finish you, my fist stick out that eyeball\nPiranha mentality with a jaws bite all night\nComing up, never saw light, but never lost sight\n\n\nJets and movers, cess-poolers, meth abusers\nYou step to us, text rugers to respect the shooters\nMy men think in sync, roll with the best crew\nMove to the beat of the same drum without Lex Luger\nWelcome to nay hood, bigger than jects, G\nCheated death multiple times without riggin the deck\nSo I'm well prepped if you just want war\nThere'll be blood everywhere, you be laying on the Louboutin floor\nIt's raw, you keep acting like you don't know Mouse, nigga\nAnd you gon' need the best doctors, house nigga\nGuard your jewels and avoid large tools\nCause after I spill you at the light, you be in a car pool\nKeep your distance from idiots, cause the truth told\nThey food for thought's rotten, they gems are fool's gold\nNeed results from my actions, mistakes I'll exonerate\nI'm Martin King staring at a picture of Obama's face\nTalking funds, niggas ain't never seen stock\nI don't need the key to the game, I pick a mean lock\n\n\nYou must be outta ya mind\nYou think you fucking with us\nSuck on these nuts\nBitch hang it up, this game is over\n\n\nTakeoff, you invited inside of the mind of a psychotic rhymer\nI'm kind of a Dahmer, I'm grinding\nNow rappers are lining up jackers, I'm climbing up ladders\nI buy enough clappers to retire you factors, fire at drama\nYou liars and actors, I'm the genuine article\nBut read me wrong, get my gun and split you to particles, particles\nTell me when and I'm there\nNot only heir to the throne, but my chair is suspended in air\nStay fly like a limited fare\nYou got us pegged wrong, my circle don't fit in with squares\nI smell shit and piss, know where it's coming from\nYou stepped on number two just to be number one\nNow I'ma step on you, bring it to yo yard\nBogart for arts, we go hard\nYou frauds just blow hard like broads, I coast guard the west\nI'm Mozart, I compose dark shit with no heart\n\n\nI got no Jim Beam in the liver\nGetting head like clean clippers, with haters on my dick like a jeans zipper\nWhen I throw up 16's like I drink liquor\nYou think you seen sick? Well, bitch, you ain't seen sicker\nThen I'll crack, and then I'll hop around in a hospital gown\nPopping the trunk, my pumper stay cocking the round\nI shit logs and I piss river brown\nCause I drink creek water and spit the river Nile\nAnd that's as close as I get to a pyramid\nShit, they think I'm Illuminati, so fuckin' ignorant\nSick with a grin, here with this pen, so innocent\nBut when you win, they say you a sin, but in the end\nThey jump on the bandwagon and dance to the band playing\nSkinny-ass pants sagging, it's only yourself you playing\nCall me a clown, but you love where the clown's hanging\nAnd the freakshow's at the county carnival then you pay\nBitch, I'm on a trapeze with no legs in the dark\nYelling \"Go Shady\" driving slower than an old lady\nIn an old '89, no piece if you pay me\nGimme peace sign on my grill, no Mercedes\nI'm getting paid for these shows that I throw lately\nSame shows a year ago woulda broken most of you crazies\nThey call me crazy cause I made it\nBitch, you crazy cause you quit, look at my clique lately\nYou ain't fucking wit' Budden, you ain't got no choice with Royce\nYou don't wanna see the Crooked I, well, listen to Ortiz voice\nThat dirt road hit the 8 Mile, the porno boys\nAnd if Marshall want me to clap, then homie, I deploy\nGame over\n\n\nYo, I don't think they heard you, tell 'em again\n\nGame over"},
{"year": null, "title": "8 Mile Freestyle Pt.III vs Papa Doc", "album": null, "lyrics": "Now everybody from the 313\nPut your motherfucking hands up and follow me\nEverybody from the 313\nPut your motherfucking hands up\nLook Look\n\nNow while he stands tough\nNotice that this man did not have his hands up\nThis free world got you gased up\nNow who's afraid of the big bad wolf\n\n1, 2, 3 and to the 4\n1 pac , 2 pac, 3 pac, 4\n4 pac, 3 pac, 2 pac, 1\nYou're pac, he's pac, no pacs, none\n\nThis guy ain't no mother-fucking MC,\nI know everything he's got to say against me,\nI am white, I am a fucking bum, I do live in a trailer with my mom,\nMy boy Future is an Uncle Tom.\nI do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob who shoots\nhimself in the leg with his own gun,\nI did get jumped by all 6 of you chumps\nAnd Wink did fuck my girl,\nI'm still standing here screaming \"FUCK THE FREE WORLD!\"\nDon't ever try to judge me dude\nYou don't know what the fuck I've been through\n\nBut I know something about you\nYou went to Cranbrook, that's a private school\nWhat's the matter dawg? You embarrassed?\nThis guy's a gangster? he's real name's Clarence\n\nAnd Clarence lives at home with both parents\nAnd Clarence's parents have a real good marriage\nThis guy don't wanna battle, He's shook\n'Cause there no such things as half-way crooks\nHe's scared to death\nHe's scared to look in his fucking yearbook, fuck Cranbrook\n\nFuck the beat, I go acapella\nFuck a papa doc, fuck a clock, fuck a trailer, fuck everybody\nFuck y'all if you doubt me\nI'm a piece of fucking white trash, I say it proudly\nAnd fuck this battle, I don't wanna win, I'm outty,\nHere, tell these people something they don't know about me."},
{"year": null, "title": "8 Mile Freestyle vs Lickty Spilt", "album": null, "lyrics": "This guy's a choke artist\r\nYa catch a bad one\r\nYour better off shootin yourself\r\nWith Papa Doc's handgun\r\nClimbin up this mountain your weak\r\nIll leave you lost without a paddle\r\nFloatin shits creek\r\n\r\nYou ain't Detroit, Im the D\r\nYour the new kid on the block\r\nBout to get smacked back to the boonedocks\r\nFuckin Nazi, this crowd ain't your type\r\nTake some real advice and form a group with Vanilla Ice\r\nAnd what I tell you, you better use it\r\nThis guy's a hillbilly, this ain't Willie Nelson music\r\n\r\nTrailor trash, Ill choke you to your last breath\r\nAnd have you lookin foolish \r\nLike Cheddar Bob when he shot himself\r\nSilly Rabbit, I know why they call you that\r\nCause you follow Future like you got carrots up his asscrack\r\nAnd when you actin up thats when you got jacked up\r\nAnd left stupid like Tina Turner when she got smacked up\r\n\r\nIll crack your shoulder blade\r\nYoull get dropped so hard \r\nElvis will start turnin in his grave\r\nI dont know why they let you out in the dark\r\nYou need to take your white ass back across 8 mile\r\nTo the trailor park\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nThis guy raps like his parents jerked him\r\nHe sounds like Eric Sermon, the generic version\r\nThis whole crowd looks suspicious\r\nIts all dudes in here, except for these bitches\r\nSo Im a German, Eh\r\nThats ok, you look like a fuckin worm with braids\r\nThese Leaders of the Free World rookies\r\nLookie, how can 6 dicks be pussies\r\n\r\nTalkin bout shits creek\r\nBitch, you could be up piss creek \r\nWith paddles this deep\r\nYour still gonna sink\r\nYour a disgrace\r\nYeah, they call me Rabbit\r\nThis is a turtle race\r\n\r\nHe can't get with me spittin this shit\r\nWickedly lickety shot\r\nSpickety spickety split lickety\r\nSo Im gonna turn around with a great smile\r\nAnd walk my white ass back across 8 mile!"},
{"year": null, "title": "Crackers 'n Cheese", "album": null, "lyrics": "- \"I'm the man!\"\n\nI stand in, ?? by the way as i begin\ndo you know who I am? and may reply with a grin\nyes, I'm tired of being ??\nwhy should I be secluded, I got a brand new horn to be tooted\nTo sum it up in a nutshell, \"Eminem will you kick it for me?\"\nSo I find myself in a certain ??depligatory??\nA place where I dwell in, ?? for some wonderful productions\nto make up for lost time, ??\nFinally let loose, unloading the stockpile\na mental projectile, I aim like a reptile\nI look to the one handed juggler and ask him this\n\"Why is it you insist upon stepping to an octopus?\"\nIs there a reason for this? the hatred is aggravating\nHow many times will it take you before you realize you're fading?\nFading from existence, cause simulations are dead\nthere's so much more to learn, it pages left to be read,\nso put up the front while you jam for the grammar that's poor\nwhile i hold the scrapbook that's heavier than the hammer of the mighty Thor\nwords can weigh a ton\ntherefore it's never to fall into the hands of the wrong one\n\n - \"Yeah\", \"It's another..\n\nThere are few have made an attempt to put a foot on the other side\nBut I see no borderline, from under this colorblind\nAnd some will probably never hold peices of the sacred\nBut then I'm finally about to put an end to the hatred\nThe world would never endure to arguing\nAwaking to the abscence of unity is startling\n\"Oh foolish pride, what the hell is you tryin to do?\nYou cannot beat someone that's better than you so quit trying to\"\nThe outcome we want ?? nothing ?? despicable\nSo how do you think you can manage to kick the unkickable\nYou're graceless, bland, you're tasteless and you're faceless and\nYou're dull it's time you faced this, here taste this\nStraight from off of the pile, one of the numerous styles\nThe date of my birth on the Earth, the deliverence of a starchild\nRest with formidable talent and versitility\nBut with such a power, there comes a responsibilty\nTo infridge on the boundaries, so now the defiance is clear\nTo form an alliance is something even the giants fear\nSo instead of being oblivious to the color of skin\nRefuser abusin it's accepted now it's a trend\n\n - \"Yeah\", \"It's another...\"\n\nYou know I don't understand why we all just can't get along\nYou hate me but you know me and what I stand for\nNo? so then why do you speak for me \nand every other white man when you that we're your enemy?\n\nOn the floor lies a broken door, cause I'm not to be spoken for\nStereotypes and superstitions and fictional folklore\nRarely do you see the lighter side of me\nI try to be persuasive but also invasive and try to end the rivalry\nBut I've ?? apologies are exhausted\nFeelings are turning glacial never to be defrosted\nSo who can I trust after repeatedly being shafted\nSwitch to the opposite, now see it being re-enacted\nPull up the ?? quick,\nThese ?? we hate him, these ?? are past us, huh\nAlways fighting for the position of top dog\nThat spot's already occupied, and I don't play leapfrog\nCause I do not wish to fight over territory that's already mine\nBut I'm always having to proove myself, time after time\nOh how I never understand how a man could be outcast\nJudged from the past and he's put last\nAnd ??bluffing?? with nothing to say, stutterin and slurrin\nAnd mutterin words with no meaning, attack me side I'm like ??Danny K/Danny Kane??\nHere I go again hammerin stammerin grammerin\nand eat it like cheese, pass me the crackers please\nI've got a craving\n\n - \"I'm the man\""},
{"year": null, "title": "Invasionist", "album": null, "lyrics": "I've got a riddle, what\u2019s little and talks big\nWith midget arms and creamy white filling in the middle\nThat\u2019ll do anything to throw dirt on my name\nIf it means walking the whole Mediterranean\nIs he an Albanian, Armenian, Iranian, Tazmanian\nNo it's Dave, Raymond and oh, Osorio\nSo sorry whoa, but that was a long time ago\nWhen I was just Joe Shmo, rapping in Joe Blow\u2019s basement\nI apologized fo\u2019 it before, so\nEither accept it or you don\u2019t\nAnd let\u2019s move on, if I ain't shown that I\u2019ve grown\nThen get the bone, keep licking these nuts\nYou industry mutts, keep walking around sniffing each other\u2019s butts\nOr should I say asses?\nWhat would be the more politically correct term to use for the masses?\nThe question I ask is..\nHow can I explain this?\nHow can I swing this, in English language?\nIf I switch to slang and turn mayn to mayn\nDo I do it in vain, or simply to entertain?\nAm I being real or am I being fake\nAm I just a fraud or am I truly genuine\nOr am I caught up in this hot water\nWoady on my daughter I told you I love this culture\nDon\u2019t let em insult ya, I\u2019ma tell you one more \u2018gain\nThis is the environment that I was brought up \u2018in\nBut every now and \u2018then, I use my \u2018pen\nTo get rid of some frustration, or should I say shon\nIs it just another one of my subliminal ways of racism?\nYour face is numb, you\u2019re stunned you look as cold\nLike that of a man who\u2019s 70 some years old\nAnd it only gets colder, which is why I understand\nI can\u2019t be mad at a forty four year old fan\nWith a chip on his shoulder\nWho only owns half of a magazine, and the only way to have it seen\nIs to put me on the front of it again\nOnly thing that makes him grin, is to see me frown\nPapa can\u2019t stand me, papa needs to take his medication and sit the *** down\nIn his new chair that goes round and round\nThat he bought from new money in his bank account\nThat I get him every issue when the thang comes out\nSit back and let his puffy clown hair come out\nAnd let his black side arm wrestle his white side\nYell apartheid loud enough that he might slide\nHe might find someone dumb enough who might ride\nBut ain't nobody over here buying two white guys\nDisguised as pro-black there\u2019s no slack for a Hartford college grad\nIn a fitted hat and a hunch back, standing by the clearance coat rack\nIn some old slacks and some RSO throwbacks, yeah"},
{"year": null, "title": "Farewell", "album": null, "lyrics": "I don't wanna say goodbye\nBut sometimes things just don't go as we'd like\nAll I wanna do is cry\nSay my farewells, pack up and leave tonight\n\nFarewell miss I know that you can care less\nBut I'm sorry for everything I was careless\nBut I need you to know that I love you so much\nAnd I've been drinking myself to sleep my soul's crushed\nA couple more shots I know I'm gonna go nuts\nI can't deal with the fact you left me with no crutch\nI was in love with you how could you do this to me\nActually I did this to myself, what a tragedy!\nAnd now what do I do?\nWhere do I go?\nCause everywhere I go I see your face\nIt's hard starting over\nTrying to find another shoulder\nTo lean on\nI feel like my whole life just got peed on\nThey say time heals but dammit I wanna stop time and feel this pain\nAs crazy as it sounds to me it's sane\nAnd I like it, why? 'cause I feel like we're still united\nIn some weird way I don't wanna fight it\n\nI don't wanna say goodbye\nBut sometimes things just don't go as we'd like\nAll I wanna do is cry\nSay my farewells, pack up and leave tonight\n\nI wrote you the other day and you didn't write back!\nIt's like that!? after all the crap we been through!?\nI can't believe you! I know I fucked up!\nBut look within you and find some love and stop being stuck up!\nYou keep sending me to voicemail!\nI'm annoyed, hell!, shit you coulda at least sent a text\nBut you're probably busy kissing someone else's lips\nWhile I'm sitting here cleaning my shoes from this shit!\nYou're hard headed a sharp headache\nI need help call a medic\nI just cut myself, yeah, I did it\nWithout you I'm nothing don't you get it!?\nEvery time that I said I loved you I meant it!\nYou turn and tell me you hate me and regret that\nWe ever met, I can't believe you just said that\nYou're so cold you just hit me so low\nI can't take this no more, so hit the road\n\nI don't wanna say goodbye\nBut sometimes things just don't go as we'd like\nAll I wanna do is cry\nSay my farewells, pack up and leave tonight\n\nSome things just don't seem the way they do\nOne day you tell me I love you and only you\nI wake up to find out it was a dream\nYou're telling me you hate me, you're leaving me\nPeople change everything changes\nWe go from best friends then become strangers\nWe go from seeing each other everyday then\nFarewell to never seeing your face again\n\nI can't get you outta of my head\nSo I'm out of bed at 4 in the morning\nWishing I was dead\nBut for some odd reason I can't do it\nFor some reason I needed to write\nWhat's on my mind and what's going through it\nCause if I don't I'll probably suffocate\nWhy do you have so much hate\nTowards me you need some loving babe\nGod I fucking love you I hate myself\nFor falling in love with you\nJust to find out all I did was trouble you\nMy heart is aching I'm medicated\nI tried meditating\nBut nothing works I don't even feel sedated\nI wish you could feel what I feel for one second\nI reckon you would jump out your window bare naked\nFuck humiliation, you do anything to get me back\nOpinions wouldn't matter what they thought in fact\nYou would tell everyone to fuck themselves good\nAnd do everything to have me if you could\n\nI don't wanna say goodbye\nBut sometimes things just don't go as we'd like\nAll I wanna do is cry\nSay my farewells, pack up and leave tonight"},
{"year": null, "title": "Fast Lane", "album": null, "lyrics": "Uh, first verse, uh\nI'm on 'til I'm on a island\nMy life's ridin' on the Autobahn on autopilot\nBefore I touch dirt, I'll kill y'all for kindness\nI kill ya, my natural persona's much worse\nYou've been warned if you've been born or if you conform\nSlap up a cop and then snatch him out of his uniform\nLeave him with his socks, hard bottoms and bloomers on\nAnd hang him by his balls from the horn of a unicorn\nY'all niggas' intellect mad slow, y'all fags know\nClaimin' you bangin', you flamin'\nBet you could light your own cigarette with your asshole\nMe and Shady deaded the past, so that basically resurrected my cashflow\nI might rap tight as the snatch of a fat dyke\nThough I ain't wrapped tight\nMy blood type's the '80s!\nMy '90s was like the Navy, you was like the Bradys\nYou still fly kites daily!\n\n\nCatch me in my Mercedes\nBumpin' \"Ice, Ice Baby, \" screamin' Shady 'til I die\nLike I have a pair of dice, life's crazy\nSo I live it to the fullest 'til I'm Swayze\nAnd you only live it once, so I'm thinkin' 'bout this nice, nice lady\nWait, no, stop me now 'fore I get on a roll (Danish)\nLet me tell you what this pretty little dame's name is, 'cause she's kinda famous\nAnd I hope that I don't sound too heinous when I say this\nNicki Minaj, but I wanna stick my penis in your anus!\nYou morons think that I'm a genius\nReally I belong inside a dang insane asylum, cleanin', try them trailer parks\nCrazy, I am back, and I am razor-sharp, baby\nAnd that's back with' a capital B with' an exclamation mark, maybe\nYou should listen when I flip the linguistics\n'Cause I'm gonna rip this mystical slick shit\nYou don't wanna become another victim or statistic of this shit\n'Cause after I spit the bullets, Imma treat these shell casings like a soccer ball\nImma kick the ballistics! So get this dick, Imma live this\n\n\nLivin' life in the fast lane\nMovin' at the speed of life and I can't slow down\nOnly got a gallon in the gas tank\nBut I'm almost at the finish line, so I can't stop now\n\nI don't really know where I'm headed, just enjoyin' the ride\nGon' roll 'til I drop and ride 'til I die\nI'm livin' life in the fast lane (Pedal to the metal)\nLivin' life in the fast lane (Pedal to the metal)\n\n\nMy whole goal as a poet's to be relaxed in orbit\nAt war with' a bottle, as Captain Morgan attacks my organs\nMy slow flow is euphoric, it's like I rap endorphins\nI made a pact with the Devil that says \"I'll let you take me\nYou let me take this shovel, dig up the corpse of Jack Kevorkian\"\nGo 'back and forth in more beef than you can pack a fork in\nI'm livin' the life of the infinite enemy down\nMy tenement, too many now, to send my serenity powers\nSpin 'em around, enterin' in the vicinity\n\n\nNow, was called Eminem, but he threw away the candy and ate the rapper\nChewed him up (Pt!) and spitted him out\nGirl, giddy-up, now get, get down\nHe's lookin' around this club and it looks like people are havin' a shit fit now\nHere, little t-t-trailer trash, take a look who's back in t-t-town\nDid I s-st-stutter, motherfucker? Fuck them all,\nHe shuts the whole motherfuckin' Walmart d-d-down every time he comes a-r-r-round\nAnd he came to the club tonight with' 5'9\u2033 to hold this bitch down\nLike a motherfuckin' chick underwater, she tryna d-dr-drown\nShawty, when you dance, you got me captivated\nJust by the way that you keep lickin' them dick suckin' lips, I'm agitated, aggravated\nTo the point you don't suck my dick, then you're gonna get decapitated\nOther words, you don't fuckin' give me head, then I'm have to take it\n\n\nAnd then after takin' that, I'm a catch a case, it's gon' be fascinatin'\nIt's gon' say \"The whole rap game passed away\" on top of the affidavit\nGraduated from master debater slash massive masturbator\nTo Michael Jackson' activator (Woo!)\nMeanin' I'm on fire off the top, might wanna back up the data\nRunnin' over hip-hop in a verbal tractor-trailer\nHomie, they sick, you can normally ask a hater\nDon't it make sense, these shell casings is just like a bag of paper\nDrop in the lap of a tax evader (Homie, they spent)\n\n\nNow make that ass drop like a sack of potatoes\nWhat, girl, I'm the crack-a-lator\nPercolator to this party, be my penis ejaculator later\nTell your boyfriend that you just struck paydirt\nYou rollin' with a player, you won't be exaggeratin' when you sayin' you're...\n\n\nLivin' life in the fast lane\nMovin' at the speed of life and I can't slow down\nOnly got a gallon in the gas tank\nBut I'm almost at the finish line, so I can't stop now\n\nI don't really know where I'm headed, just enjoyin' the ride\nGon' roll 'til I drop and ride 'til I die\nI'm livin' life in the fast lane (Pedal to the metal)\nLife in the fast lane (Pedal to the metal)\n\nPedal to the metal\nPedal to the metal"},
{"year": null, "title": "First Word (Freestyle)", "album": null, "lyrics": "(First Word, Excrement)\n\nExclimate, is that what you said?\nMy next defense, against these extra men\nWho try to step to me and wanna have sex again\n\n(Vaseline)\n\nYou little sickass, I'll spray em with gasoline\nThey try to jack me off with Vaseline\nMy ass is mean, I smash your spleen\nWhen I crash the scene\n\n(Cell Phone)\n\nWith a cell phone, now who the hell is home?\nY'all can't tell Paul how to throw me words\n\n(Animal Crackers)\n\nCause animal crackers is what I do when I eat MC's like a cannibal backwards\nHa ha, I got it, that's not it\nFake rappers been spotted\n\n(Broken Headphones)\n\nLike broken headphones, you head home, you sped home\nYou get your head blown, rappers try to step, they speak in the dead tones\nSo I ain't trying to hear them, give me another, word for your mother\n\n(Stretch Armstrong)\n\nStretch Armstrong, my brother, coming with rhymes every time that I be drumming\nRunning with this shit when I kick a bitch in the stomach\nAnd star wars, this car's a Taurus\nYo, how many bars we hit tonight, cause I'm drunk off\n\n(Peanut Butter)\n\nOff peanut butter, you see my dick and you start to stutter\nStart to utter, words that you shouldn't utter\n\n(Mark Whalberg)\n\nCause Mark Whalberg is a small turd, and I'mma step on him like dogshit\nA fore fist, so rappers just get off it, I come across with\n\n(Pulp Fiction)\n\nWith pulp fiction, yo I'll eat you like a big gulp addiction\nLike slurpees, got herpes, got a hair piece, rest my anises\nGot brain damage, I'm dumber than rain man is\nThere's mayonnaise on this, I need a plain sandwich\nHurry up, give me one, rappers try to step to this static they wanna give me none\n\n(Fresh vegetables)\n\nWith fresh vegetables, my testicles are hanging off to the left of you\nYou're bisexual, and there's a guy next to you, standing, rappers know that I\nBe-\n\n(Preparation H)\n\nPreparation H, you didn't even let me finish my rhyme\nJust shut up for one more time, while I just shine, on this\nMicrophone, cause I'mma be honest, any MC who tries to step to this\nI'm making you a promise, that what? Give me a word\n\n(Nostradamus)\n\nThat Nostradamus is blowing up your house, killing your foster mammas\nAnd coming back to get your parents, well I have it\nThese rhymes are fourteen karat, solid gold\nRappers step to me, you get your wallet stole\n\n(Times Square)\n\nIn Times Square, I got blonde hair, I'm higher than con air\nRappers don't want to see me, I'll butt fuck Goldie Hawn bare\nIn a lawn chair, cause I'm there\n\n(Kurt Russell)\n\nWith Kurt Russell, saying \"come here Goldie, you want my love muscle?\"\nI know you want it, I get blunted, then I\nKick these, freestyles just like whipped knees\n\n(Taxicab)\n\nWith a taxicab, I'll smack a bitch with a maxi pad\nWhere we going? Don't ask me dad\nLeave me alone, I'm not trying, to even hear you\nDad, I hope you're fucking dying, off this porno mag\nYo, did you see my ad? Yo, wait a minute, did you see my ass?\nIs what I meant to say, I meant to say a rhyme that goes this way is elementary\nFor the century, Slim Shady's is gonna be the illest\n\n(Flamingos)\n\nWhat? Flamingos? My mother goes out and plays bingo\nEvery single day, at the bingo hall, that's why my dick is single, small\nDidn't blow up, just don't give a what? A cuff?\nDidn't blow up, just don't give a what? A cuff?\n\n(DT's fired)\n\nBut DT's fired, he's retired, he's not hired, yo plus I'm tired\nOf busting and spitting this rhyme nonstop, I'm on top\nTaking records to the pawnshop, stretch\nDamn, see my big ick? Catch\nPut a D in front of it, rappers don't want none of it\nComing with a ton of shit to spill, Slim Shady out, I get ill with the skill\nBaby, aight baby, Slim Shady\nKick eighty million rhymes, till I'm older than Grady\nSpilled gravy, all over my damn navy blue avi\nBye bye"},
{"year": null, "title": "Hail Mary 2003 (Ja Rule Diss)", "album": null, "lyrics": "Come get me\r\nMotherfuckers if you want Shady\r\nIf Pac was still here now,\r\nHe would never ride with Ja\r\nNa, na, na, na ,na, na, na, na\r\n\r\n\r\nMakaveli rest in peace\r\nIrv Gotti, too much Bacardi in his body\r\nMouth like a .12 gauge shotti\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nYou ain't no killer, you a pussy\r\nThat ecstasy got you all emotional and moushy\r\nBitches wearing rags in photos, Ja's words being quoted\r\nIn the SOURCE, stealing 'Pac's shit like he just wrote it\r\nYou loud mouth, pray to god, hoping no ones listening\r\nSee 50 coming for me, I'ma guard my, my position\r\nNo one will pay attention\r\nTo me, please Gotti, here I go\r\nGimme this pill, ecstasy got me feeling so\r\nInvincible\r\nNow all of a sudden I'm a fucking mad man who screams\r\nLike I'm 'Pac but I'm not, enemies, Hennesy\r\nActing like I'm great, but I'm fake, I'm CRAZY\r\nSweat drip, get me off this trip, someone stop this train\r\nSome say my brain is all corrupted, fuck from this shit\r\nI'm stuck, I'm addicted from these drugs, I'ma quit\r\nSaying motherfucker's name's before someone fucks me up\r\nAin't no pussies over here, partner, see you hell, fucker\r\n\r\n\r\nCome get me\r\nIf you motherfuckers want Shady\r\nIf Pac was still here now,\r\nHe would never ride with Ja\r\nNa, na, na, na ,na, na, na, na\r\n\r\nGet off that E\r\nBefore you try to fuck with me\r\nIt's Aftermath here now\r\nShady Records got it locked\r\nLa, la, la, la , la, la, la, la\r\n\r\n\r\nPenitentiaries is packed with promise makers\r\nNever realized the precious time them bitch niggas is wasting\r\nInstitutionalize, my bitches bring me product by the bundles\r\nHustle hard from the cell, G-Unit motherfucker, WE BALLING\r\nCatch me counting trees when I'm calling\r\nCan you set my car, Ceo let me sip on Henessy, \"Can I sips some more?\"\r\nHell, I done been in jail, I ain't scared\r\nMomma checking in my bedroom, I ain't there\r\nI got a head with no screws in it\r\nMotherfuckers think they can stop 50... they losing it\r\nLil' nigga named Ja, thinks he live like me\r\nTalking about he left the hospital, took 9 like me\r\n\r\n\r\nYou living fantasies nigga\r\nI'll Reject your Deposit\r\nWhen yo lil sweet ass coming out of the closet\r\nnow he wondering why DMX blow him out\r\nnext time grown folks talking bitch close your mouth\r\nPeep me I take this war shit deeply\r\nSeen too many real niggas balling like these bitch niggas beat me\r\nyous a motherfucking punk and you see me with gloves\r\nquit scaring them fucking kids with ya ugly ass mug\r\nand you can tell them niggas you roll with whatever you want\r\nbut you and i know whats going on Nigga pay back I know your bitch ass from way back\r\nWitness be strap with macs You know I don't play that\r\nAll these old rappers trying to advance its all over now -- take it like a man\r\nHAHA--Irv looking like Larry Holmes, flabby and sick\r\ntrying to play hate on my shit - man eat a fat dick\r\nLoving this shit, thats how you made me-feeling like I got you niggas crazy, i like\r\nAgainst all odds up with my dogs motherfuckers now\r\nIt'll be the realist shit I ever wrote\r\nAgainst all odds, up in the studio getting blow to the truest shit i ever\r\nspoke 21 gun salute\r\n\r\n\r\nHey yo I'm one of the most humble, rep the streets to the core\r\nHey Jeffrey, What the fuck you come involving me for?\r\nYou spent a long time coming like a bless and a check\r\nyou see 106 and park fans don't even fucking respect you\r\nIt's kinda funny, wanna be PAC wanna be fake like he thug\r\nrunning around talking shit that he ain't even capable of\r\nnow let me OFF this cock sucker watch me handle you nigga\r\nIf i recall Violator use to manage you nigga then took a closer look and\r\nrealized you was an empostor theres never been a Violator on a Murda Inc rosta. Dumb ass\r\nnow who shoot? -- Ah made you look, you said Busta singing the same old hook, You Stupid\r\nif yall shoot I take a look at ya man the bitch shot himself in front of Def Jam\r\nChedda Bob ass nigga start adjusting ya plan\r\nyou let the streets down nigga - Apologize to ya fans\r\nwatch ya pull a lil stunt like we ain't know where you are ya lil faggot\r\ndesperate be trying while we establish a buzz I know the shit is driving you crazy You wondering how\r\nThe streets ain't never want you Beatrice what you gonna do now?\r\nNow if you wanna beef with me, then I'm beefing with you\r\nI think about the game and what its like and \"WHAT WOULD IT BE WITHOUT YOU\"\r\nYou finished I ain't trying to repeat this just because I'm cool shouldn't\r\ntake my kindness for weakness\r\n\r\n\r\nOoh shit ha ha That was fun Next time you got a problem with me, Address me\r\nbefore you try to make the shit a public issue homie, I'm return back to my regular\r\nself and have fun again\r\n-One"},
{"year": null, "title": "Run Rabbit Run", "album": null, "lyrics": "Some days I just wanna up and call it quits\nI feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricks\nEvery time I go to get up I just fall in pits\nMy life's like one great big ball of shit!\n\nIf I could just put it all into all I spit\nInstead of always trying swallow it\nInstead of starin' at this wall and shit\nWhile I sit writer's block, sick of all this shit\nCan't call it shit!\n\nAll I know is I'm about to hit the wall\nIf I have to see another one of Mom's alcoholic fits\nThis is it, last straw\nThat's all, that's it\nI ain't dealin' with another fuckin' politic\n\nI'm like a skillet bubblin', until it filters up\nI'm about to kill it, I can feel it buildin' up\nBlow this building up, I've been sealed enough\nMy cup runneth over, I done filled it up\n\nThe pen explodes and busts, ink spills my guts!\nYou think all I do is stand here and feel my nuts\nWell, Imma show you what, You gon' feel my rush\nIf you don't feel it, then it must be too real to touch\n\nBuild the dutch, I'm about to tear shit up\nGoosebumps, Yeah Imma make your hair sit up, Yeah sit up\nImma tell you who I be, Imma make you hate me, Cause you ain't me\n\nYou wait, it ain't too late to finally see\nWhat you close-minded fucks were too blind to see\nWhoever finds me is gonna get a finder's fee\nOut this world, ain't no one out their mind as me\n\nYou need peace of mind? Here's a piece of mine\nAll I need's a line, but Sometimes I don't always find the words to rhyme\nTo express how I'm really feeling at that time, Yes\nSometimes, Sometimes, Sometimes\n\nIt's just sometimes it's always me\nHow dark can these hallways be\nThe clock strikes midnight\n1, 2, then half past 3\nThis half-assed rhyme, with this half-assed piece of paper\n\nI'm desperate at my desk\nIf I could just get the rest of this shit off my chest, Again\nStuck in this slump, Can't think of nothing\nFuck, I'm stumped, Oh, Wait, Here comes something, nope!\n\nIt's not good enough, scribble it out\nNew pad, crinkle it up, and throw this shit out\nI'm fizzling out, thought I figured it out\nBall's in my court but I'm scared to dribble it out\n\nI'm afraid, but why am I afraid? Why am I a slave\nTo this Trade ? Cyanide I spit to the grave\nReal enough to rile you up, Want me to flip it? I can rip it\nany style you want.\n\nImma switch hitter bitch Jimmy Smith ain't a quitter\nImma sit here till I get enough of me to finally hit a fucking boiling point\nPut some oil in your joints, Flip the coin, Bitch come get destroyed\n\nAn MC's worst dream, I make them tensed, they hate me\nSee me and shake like a chain-link fence\nBy the looks of 'em you would swear that Jaws was coming\nBy the screams of 'em you would swear I'm sawing someone\n\nBy the way they runnin', you would swear the law was coming\nIt's now or never, and tonight it's all or nothing\nMomma, Jimmy keeps leaving on us, He said he'd be back\nHe pinky promised, I don't think he's honest\n\nI'll be back baby, I just gotta beat this clock\nFuck this clock! Imma make them Eat this watch\nDon't believe me Watch! Imma win this race\nAnd Imma come back and rub my shit in your face, Bitch!\n\nI found my niche, You gon' hear my voice\n'Til you're SICK of it, you ain't gonna have a choice\nIf I gotta scream 'til I have half a lung\nIf I have half a chance, I'll grab it, Rabbit Run!"},
{"year": null, "title": "Second Chance", "album": null, "lyrics": "Yeah...\nIt's my life...\nMy own words I guess...\nHave you ever loved someone so much, you'd give an arm for?\nNot the expression, no, literally give an arm for?\nWhen they know they're your heart\nAnd you know you were their armour\nAnd you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her\nBut what happens when karma, turns right around and bites you?\nAnd everything you stand for, turns on you to spite you?\nWhat happens when you become the main source of her pain?\n\"Daddy look what I made\", Dad's gotta go catch a plane\n\"Daddy where's Mommy? I can't find Mommy where is she?\"\nI don't know go play Hailie, baby, your Daddy's busy\nDaddy's writing a song, this song ain't gonna write itself\nI'll give you one underdog then you gotta swing by yourself\nThen turn right around in that song and tell her you love her\nAnd put hands on her mother, who's a spitting image of her\nThat's Slim Shady, yeah baby, Slim Shady's crazy\nShady made me, but tonight Shady's rocka-by-baby...\n\n\nYou look like you're in another world\nbut I can read your mind\nhow can you be so far away\nlying by my side \n\n\nThings ain't always what they seem or cracked up to be \nLike all these fakin' ass rappers in this industry \nTalkin' bout what they got, and they ain't got a damn thang \nHow you own three cars, but you don't own ya own name? \nGet ya business right boys, the first class is in session \nGet a entertainment lawyer in the music profession \nStart up ya own company, trademark the name \nThat's gon' run ya bout a grand so start savin' ya change \nOpen a bank account quick, and then follow these steps \nSign yourself to yourself and start signin' ya own checks \nHit the booth and start recording at the speed of need \nWhatever gets ya juices flowin' could be speed or weed \nGet it mixed and mastered, pressed up and plastered \nSell it to ya whole hood out the trunk, ya bastard! \nShow all the non-believers what you destined to be \nAnd in just a couple years you could be rich like me \n\n\nYou look like you're in another world\nbut I can read your mind\nhow can you be so far away\nlying by my side \n\n\nMoney to be made best believe a nigga clockin,\nI run it myself like a quarterback option,\nI pitch a 10 g's tell a bitch to go shopping,\nshe buy herself some clothes, and she bought me back a chopper,\nsee niggas tryna kick it, but no I don't play sucka,\nI'm all about my cake I'm tryna marry Betty Crocker,\na package on the way you know my whip game proper,\nand enough for one key I see seventy thousand dollas,\nNow I was shootin dice, smokin on a joint,\nI bet with Yo Gotti, he hit five straight points,\nwe ovahere hustlin, we ova here grindin,\nyou rap about money and nigga might sign ya,\nyou rap about me and a nigga might find ya,\nbanana in ya ass with ya head right behind ya,\nDOPE GAME BITCH let his mamma worry bout him, you can holla at me for a fee\n\n\nYou look like you're in another world\nbut I can read your mind\nhow can you be so far away\nlying by my side"},
{"year": null, "title": "Symphony In H", "album": null, "lyrics": "Don't ask me what's up with the hoes\nI'm still working the kinks out\nLove stinks, that explains all this anger that's spillin' out\nAnd I ain't chillin now\nI got an Oscar, I'm still a grouch\nI use it as a doorstop, and the prop\nFor the broken leg for the couch\nYelawolf, Shady, Tony, touch Slaughterhouse\nYeah the swat team bout to break them flyswatters out\nGo to hell in a drought, break ice waters out\nNice try, shorty what? We can window shop\nThe jewelry store\nBut Christ, for that price coulda bought a house\nBesides only thing I ever had iced out was my heart since I started out\nIt's F.Y.I if ya ain't knowing\nWhat go with you? Where? Nah ain't going.\nOh wait, you want a date oh? Well in that case ho it's June 8 oh\nKinda like Beethoven composin' a symphony of hate\nSo much hate woved into these raps\nShit I'm beginning to hate clothing\nI hate overalls because they remind me of hoes\nFor christ sake they're shaped like a H woah, and\nYou know what else starts with H, though?\nHockey, shit thought I had the place flowing\nI hate to put you on ice but\nYou already had 3 periods in 60 minutes, great going\nPlus you remind me of cocaine ho\nYou always in the mirror with your face off\nI feel an urge to put you all in a line\nAnd chop you with a razor blade, yo wait\nI'm an a-hole, devil with a Halo\nHell yeah I nailed J-Lo, to the railroad\nSay I won't, better hope you can stay afloat\nWhen I take the wind out your sail boat\nI ain't playing yo! Go for Shady don't kid yourself\nBitch, you ain't even a baby goat"},
{"year": null, "title": "Our House", "album": null, "lyrics": "Here's the story, of a little boy.\nGrowin' up in a suburban home,\nTrying to cope with everyday life,\nWho lives in a little house,\nThat was built, in the middle of the street.\n\n\"Hey, Mom!\nTupac's on the juke box,\nso what he shot two cops,\nand raped a little girl,\nwhile two dudes watched,\"\n\"Nuh-uh! They were tryin' to frame him,\nYou wouldn't have Two Pack Shaker,\"\n\"No! That ain't how you say his name, mum!\nYou're so lame,\nDon't you know anything?\"\n\"Yeah!\nI know that you'll probably go,\nand join in a gang,\"\n\"Yeah, right. I'm out\nWhere's my fuckin' walkman at?\"\n\"Stop cussin' at me!\"\n\"Shut up, bitch!\"\n\"And quit talking black.\"\nWell,\nSlammed the door and I'm out,\nNow, what?\nIt's probably warm in the house.\nFuck, I forgot my jacket,\nforgot it was winter.\nI'm gettin' thinner,\nI'm hungry.\nIs Mom cookin' dinner?\n\"Mom!\nLet me back in!\nI forgot my coat.\nMom, come on, I'm not playin',\nIt's cold!\nAlright, sorry.\nI need a jacket,\nMom, look,\nMy Tupac tape,\nI just cracked it,\nMa, please let me back in,\nIt is Two Pack Shaker,\nI just asked him.\"\nI'm freezin', (achoo)\nI'm sneezin',\nI'm breathin' too much cold air,\nI'm wheezin',\n\"I ain't did nothin',\nI didn\u2019t say \"I'm leavin',\"\nI said \"I'm goin' on the front porch to get somethin',\"\"\n\n\"Alright, here.\nTake your damn coat and leave,\"\n\"Fine I'll leave!\nMom! You cut off the sleeves!\"\n\n\nOur house,\nIn the middle of the street.\n\nOne, two, three,\nMy teacher's two faced,\nShe went to lower my school grades,\nSince Last Tuesday,\nI had a toothache,\nfrom kool-aid,\nSo Mom kicked me out, (get out)\nAnd, all i had in my suitcase,\nWas one shoelace,\nA tube sock,\nand a tube of toothpaste,\nSometimes,\nIt was cool,\n\"cause I could go to a friend's,\nCrash there,\nFool around and just skip school.\nBut other times,\nI'd rather just be home,\nIn my own room alone,\nBEAT my shit and nobody would know,\nMy little brother sucked on a bottle,\n'Til he was six,\nSo I'd hide it inside the couch,\nAnd say \"I don't know where it is,\"\nBut as soon as Mom found it,\nI would either be grounded,\nor kicked out the house,\na thousand weeks,.\nand still countin',\nEven when I was underage,\nMom was tellin' cops,\nI was tryin' to run away,\nI told her,\n\"Someday, bitch, you're gonna pay,\"\nPlease, Mom, Please, Mom, Please, Mom,\nI wanna stay, (let me stay)\n\n\n\nMy brother's incoherint,\nMom's a single parent,\nWho ain't carin',\nStarin' through me,\nLike I'm transparent,\nMade it clear,\nThat I was just there,\nto run an errands,\nTold her friends,\nI was a son from her last marriage,\nSent me up to the little corner store,\nwith a little note,\n\"Please, sell my step-son,\nSome cigarettes so I can smoke,\"\nOne time,\nI tried to fake sick,\nTo get attention,\nBack-fired,\nMom, sent me to school,\nWith a vengence,\nMy life's the worst thing that could ever happen to me,\nI go to class,\nand every teacher's always laughin' at me,\nAnd Mom says white rappers are laughed at.\nNot only that,\nShe heard me upstairs,\nI can't rap,\nand I'm stupid,\nI never make an average,\nof a B+,\nI need to sit on my ass and sue people,\nLike she does,\nOne time, I got food poison,\nFrom a hot dog,\nMom sued and got $2,000,\nFrom Ballpark,\n\"Hey, Ma. You got a dollar?\"\n\"I don't think so.\nNow keep an eye on your brother,\nI'm goin' to bingo.\"\n\"But, Mom. You said you were broke.\"\n\"Who said?\nYou got your ears messed up,\nfrom that damn rap music.\""},
{"year": null, "title": "Living Proof", "album": null, "lyrics": "Don't stop\nDon't stop\n\n\nYeah, Bad and Evil is (BACK)\nWe bout to get into a tail of gunner that details the dungeon\nThis is the pale moon illuminates the hail and thundering\nOh once again where I fail from blundering\nShady lifted his wing than I fell from under it\nNow I'm freefallin'\nMy career is gone and the weed callin'\nRegardless of who's fault I was b-ballin'\nGod bubble wrapped me and dropped me on top of the Earth\nMarshall double backed and got me from on top of the Hearse\nI'm alive nigga, Justin T ain't got nothing on me\nCause I done cried Mary J Blige rivers\nI realized that God's with us as soon as I decided to put that bottle down and pick up my tie bridges\nThe writings on the wall since niggas seen me at the baseball game with Shady and Jay-Z\nSuddenly everybody calls\n\"Like I'm just checking on you dog\"\nWhile I throw up this message on the star\n\n\nWhen them bottles stop poppin'\nAnd them dollars start stopping\nDo what you did to get it and dont stop (dont stop)\nI made a promise to my momma\nI'mma out live her\nHow can I be a quitter when haters dont stop (dont stop)\n\nI'm living proof nigga\nIts pretty safe to say\nGod giveth and God taketh away\nIts the Worldwide American way\nI'm living proof nigga\n\n\nYour body language is sayin' your confidence is gone\nWell pick ya ass up lil homie, come on\nYou just gone sit there and take it or make em suck it\nTell em where to shove it straight up, you gon' make love to the world or you gon' fuck it?\nThe last time the light kicked me in the ass\nI pulled down it's pants and put a foot up its ass\nMan what a catastrophy it'd be for me to be a bitch ass pussy\nAnd not open a can of whoop ass\nDid ya piss ass whoop me will be the day I say I aint poop\nShit, the day that I dont straight shoot\nI'll drop out of my anti-women hate group\nSay I'm a sissy faggot, record it play it back and put it on straight loop\nYou haters look like you ate a grape fruit\nYou see me climbing back on that wagon\nGot my swagga back I was dragging, hop back on it\nGrab the reigns on that bastard and came back on em\nWithout remorse man\nMan of course I'm a one trick pony\nCause I'll be screaming on these whores till I'm hoarse!\n\n\n\n\nNah I aint fading yet\nI'd rather stay and rap\nI mighta made a deck\nI find excitement in wondering what I'ma write next\nSo I dont stay in debt\nMe broke\nYou might aswell cut the embryo out my momma and play catch with the baby\nWith AK's with baby bayonet's\nI'ma get rich or I'mma die trying\nThats why its either kill or be killed\nSo call me suicide homocide Ryan\n\n\nTheres a bomb inside my head\nI'ma live wire, I am on the edge\nTeetering on it like I tore the iron mike\nGet on a nut like a tyre iron\nI have no desire stopping so why would I drop and roll\nThat's how much on fire I am\nRappers are fun and I'm the time cause I'm just flying by 'em\nMan I'm laughing at 'em the entire time, why am I up?\nCause tribulations I have triumphed bitch I'm fired up\nSo it's time for me to slit your fucking lighter, light the sky up"},
{"year": null, "title": "If I Die Young", "album": null, "lyrics": "If I die young, bury me in satin\nLay me down on a bed of roses\nSink me in the river at dawn\nSend me away with the words of a love song\n\n\nShe got that good good, she Michael Jackson bad\nI'm attracted to her, for her attractive ass\nAnd now we're murderers, because we kill the time\nI knock her lights out and she still shine\nI hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave\nBut I keep her running back and forth like a soccer team\nCold as a winter day, hot as a summer's eve\nYoung money thieves, steal your love and leave\n\n\nI like the way you walk and if you're walking my way\nI'm that red bull now let's fly away\nLet's buy a place, with all kind of space\nI let you be the judge, n' n' and I'm the case\nI'm Gudda Gudda I put her under\nI see me with her, no Stevie Wonder\nShe don't even wonder, coz she know she bad\nAnd I got her nigga, grocery bag\n\n\nIf I die young, bury me in satin\nLay me down on a bed of roses\nSink me in the river at dawn\nSend me away with the words of a love song\n\n\nMan, if I could sing. I'd keep singing this song to my daughter\nIf I could hit the notes, I'd blow something as long as my father\nTo show her how I feel about her, how proud I am that I got her\nGod, I'm a daddy, I'm so glad that her mom didn't...\nNow you probably get this picture from mu public persona\nThat I'm a pistol packing drug addict who bags on his mama\nBut I wanna just take this time out to be perfectly honest\nCause there's a lot of shit I keep bottled that hurts deep inside my soul\nAnd just know that I grow cold of the older I grow\nThis boulder on my shoulder gets heavy and harder to hold\nAnd this load is like the weight of the world and I think my neck is breaking\nShould I just give up or live up to these excpetations?\nnow look, I love my daughter more than life itself\nBut I got a wife that's determined to make my life living hell,\nBut I handle it well, given the circumstances I'm dealt\nSo many chances man, it's too bad coulda had someone else\nBut the years that I've wasted is nothing to the tears that I've tasted\nSo here's what I'm facing, 3 felonies, 6 years of probation\nI've went to jail for this woman, I've been to bat for this woman\nI've taken bats to people's back, bent over backwards for this woman\n\n\nIf I die young, bury me in satin\nLay me down on a bed of roses\nSink me in the river at dawn\nSend me away with the words of a love song"},
{"year": null, "title": "I Need A Doctor", "album": null, "lyrics": "I'm about to lose my mind\nYou\u2019ve been gone for so long, I\u2019m runnin' outta time\nI need a doctor, call me a doctor\nI need a doctor, doctor to bring me back to life\n\n\nI told the world one day I would pay it back\nSay it on tape, and lay it, record it so that one day I could play it back\nBut I don\u2019t even know if I believe it when I\u2019m sayin' that\nDoubts startin' to creep in, every day it's just so grey and black\nHope, I just need a ray of that, 'cause no one sees my vision\nWhen I play it for \u2018em, they just say it's wack, but they don\u2019t know what dope is\nAnd I don\u2019t know if I was awake or asleep when I wrote this\nAll I know is you came to me when I was at my lowest\nYou picked me up, breathed new life in me, I owe my life to you\nBut for the life of me, I don't see why you don't see like I do\nBut it just dawned on me you lost a son, demons fighting you, it\u2019s dark\nLet me turn on the lights and brighten me and enlighten you\nI don't think you realize what you mean to me, not the slightest clue\n'Cause me and you were like a crew, I was like your sidekick\nYou gon' either wanna fight when I get off this fuckin' mic\nOr you gon' hug me, but I'm outta options, there's nothin' else I can do 'cause\n\n\nI'm about to lose my mind\nYou\u2019ve been gone for so long, I\u2019m runnin' outta time\nI need a doctor, call me a doctor\nI need a doctor, doctor to bring me back to life\n\n\nIt hurts when I see you struggle, you come to me with ideas\nYou say they're just pieces, so I\u2019m puzzled, 'Cause the shit I hear is crazy\nBut you're either gettin' lazy or you don\u2019t believe in you no more\nSeems like your own opinions, not one you can form\nCan't make a decision you keep questionin' yourself\nSecond guessin' and it's almost like your beggin' for my help\nLike I\u2019m your leader, you're supposed to fuckin' be my mentor\nI can endure no more I demand you remember who you are\nIt was YOU, who believed in me when everyone was tellin'\nYou don't sign me, everyone at the fuckin' label, let's tell the truth\nYou risked your career for me, I know it as well as you\nNobody wanted to fuck with the white boy, Dre, I\u2019m cryin' in this booth\nYou saved my life, now maybe it's my turn to save yours\nBut I can never repay you, what you did for me is way more\nBut I ain't givin' up faith and you ain't givin' up on me\nGet up Dre I'm dyin', I need you, come back for fuck\u2019s sake, 'cause\n\n\nI'm about to lose my mind\nYou\u2019ve been gone for so long, I\u2019m runnin' outta time\nI need a doctor, call me a doctor\nI need a doctor, doctor to bring me back to life\nBring me back to life\nBring me back to life\n\n(I need a doctor, doctor to bring me back to life)\n\n\nIt literally feels like a lifetime ago\nBut I still remember the shit like it was just yesterday, though\nYou walked in, yellow jump suit, whole room, cracked jokes\nOnce you got inside the booth, told you, mic smoke\nWent through friends, some of them I put on, but they just left\nThey said they was ridin' to the death, but where the fuck are they now?\nNow that I need them, I don't see none of them\nAll I see is Slim, fuck all you fair-weather friends, all I need is him\nFuckin' backstabbers, when the chips were down you just laughed at us\nNow you bout to feel the fuckin' wrath of Aftermath, faggots\nYou gon' see us in our lab jackets and ask us where the fuck we been?\nYou can kiss my indecisive ass crack, maggots\nAnd the crackers' ass, little cracker jack beat\nMakin' wack math, backwards producers, I'm back bastards\nOne more CD and then I\u2019m packin' up my bags and as I\u2019m leavin'\nI\u2019ll guarantee they scream, \"Dre, don\u2019t leave us like that man!\" 'cause\n\n\nI'm about to lose my mind\nYou\u2019ve been gone for so long, I\u2019m runnin' outta time\nI need a doctor, call me a doctor\nI need a doctor, doctor to bring me back to life"},
{"year": null, "title": "Difficult", "album": null, "lyrics": "They ask me am I okay,\nThey ask me if I'm happy\nAre they asking me that because of the shit that's been thrown at me\nOr am I just a little snappy\nAnd they genuinely care\nDoody, most of my life its just been me and you there\nand I continuosly stare at pictures of you\nI never gotta say I love you as much as I wanted to but I do\nYeah I say it now and you can't hear me,\nWhat the fuck good does that do me now,\nBut somehow I know you're near me in presence\nOh, I went and dropped some presents off easter to them\nTwo little beautiful boys of yours to try to ease their minds a little\nAnd dawg you'll never believe this but Sharonda actually talks to me now\nJesus and everyone else is just tryna pick up the pieces\nMan how could you touch so many fucking lives and just leave us\nThey say grievance has a way of affecting everyone different\nIf it's true how the fuck am I supposed to get over you,\nDifficult as it sounds...\n\n\nDoody, that's what we called each other,\nI don't know where it came from but it just stuck with us,\nWe was always brothers\nNever thought about each other's skin colours\n'Til one day we was walking up the block in the summer\nIt was like 90 degrees I was catching a sun burn\nTryna walk under the trees\nJust to give me some comfort\nI'm moaning I just wanna get home\nWhen I look over and your shirt is off\nI'm like you gonna fry and you're like,\n\"No I wont, I'm black stupid\nAnd black people they got melanin\nin their skin, we don't burn\"\nMeanwhile, my face is glowing and I feel\nLike I'm on fire\nAnd the entire time you're just laughing at me\nAnd snapping at me with your shirt, bastard\nAnd I still have to get you back for that shit\nAnd by the way them Playboy rings,\nMy Mother stole from you\nWell Nate finally got 'em back\nShit it must have been at least 16 years ago,\nWell I put 'em in your cask-oww\nMoving past it, it still ain't registered yet\nBut you can bet your legacy they'll never forget\nThe Motor City, Motown,\nhip hop vet, hip hop Shop, dreads\nit don't stop there\nYeah, as difficult as it sounds...\n\n\nAnd this may sound a little strange but I'mma tell it\nI found that jacket that you left at my wedding\nAnd I picked it up to smell it\nI wrapped it up in plastic until I put it in glass\nAnd hang it up in the hallway so I can always look at it\nAnd as for all of me and D12 we feel like fuck rap\nIt feels like our General just fucking died in our lap\nWe shut off all our pagers,\nAll our cell numbers has changed\nOur two-ways are in the trash\nSo some cats will have to find a new way\nAnd I know that it feels like the dreams will die with you today\nBut the truth is there all still here and you ain't\nPurple Gang, you gotta keep pressing on\nDon't ever give up the dream dawg,\nI got love for you all\nAnd Doody, it's true you bought people together who never\nWoulda been in the same room if it wasn't for you\nYou were the peacemaker Doody,\nI know sometimes you were moody\nBut you hated confrontation\nAnd truly hated the feuding\nBut you were down for yours whenever it came to scrapping\nIf it had to happen, it had to happen\nBelieve me, I know you're the one who taught me to\nThrow them balls back on Dresden\nFrom making cars to paintballing\nGetting arrested\nTo sitting across from each other in cells laughing and jesting\nThey tried to hit us for 5 years for that, no question\nI guess them hookers and bums that we shot up\nDidn't show up for court\nSo we got off on a technicality, left sweating\nMe, you and what's his face\nI forgot his fucking name\nShame he even came to your funeral\nHe betrayed our team\nAnd if I see him again I'ma punch him in the fucking face\nAnd that's on Hallie Jade, Whitney Lane and Alaina's name\nI let the pistol bang once just to leak a shot in the air\nFor you and pour some liquor out for you with Obie in the parking lot of 54\nJust before we were supposed to get in cars\nTo come and see you once more\nDifficult as it sounds..."},
{"year": null, "title": "Demon Inside", "album": null, "lyrics": "Yo, alright, yo\nI'm possessed by evil demons that torture me while I'm sleeping\nI keep dreaming of death and I'm hearing people screaming\nThe devil's spirit's trapped inside me and I want it out\nI'm on the couch bleeding to death in a haunted house\nWith both of my wrists slit, I'm lifted up in the air\nAnd suspended in animation like someone's holding me there\nI feel somebody's cold hands wrapping around my neck\nWhile I choke on my own blood that I swallow and drown to death\nBut I found a breath and somehow managed to slip the clutches\nNearly blacking out from dizziness and head rushes\nTripping over OD'd bodies of dead lushes\nBloodstains paint the plush carpet like red blushes\nDoor's open and close by themselves, books fly off shelves\nCurtains catch fire, the house melts\nMy skin blisters and sticks together like twin sisters\nThe wind blows and shatters windows like ten twisters\nCaught a piece of shrapnel in the Adam's apple\nTwo cups of holy water and I'm looking at 'em half full\nBut as soon as I go to touch 'em they turn into red rum\nIt got silent, then all these voices said\n\"Come follow me into the pits of Hell\"\nI heard 'em yell \"Welcome to the Norman Bates Motel!\"\nI ring the bell for service and I was greeted by his mother\nCovered in dry blood, head still dented from the shovel\nI said I need a room so I could try to get some rest\nShe gave me the keys to the best suite and a bag of cess\nAnd told me that's just for starters, Satan'll be in to see me later\nTo see if I'm interested in being partners"},
{"year": null, "title": "If I Get Locked Up Tonight", "album": null, "lyrics": "Check Check, 1,2\u20261,2\u20261,2 (it's rolling)\nYea yea yea Dr. Dre up in here Y'all know what this is.\nIt's what y'all been waiting for Funk Master Flex, Big Kap,\nDef Jam Records giving it to you baby.\nYo Eminem! show these mother fuckers what time it is baby\n\n\nI used to be a lonely man, only mad, until I got a million dollars, shit\nNow if I only had some fucking hair I'd pull it, faster than a bullet\nOut of Tupac's chest before the ambulance came too late to do it\nI'm trying to grow it back again, it was an accident\nI had my back against the fan and chopped it off in Amsterdam\nI hate the straight jacket it ain\u2019t latching, and can't lock it\nSo they stapled my hand to my pants pockets\nThe cell's padded and battered like someone else had it\nBefore me and just kept throwing they fucking self at it\nMy head is aching! I'm dedicated to medication\nBut this med is taking too long to bring me this sedadation? (Come on!)\nAnyway I got down with Dre (What up?)\nThe first man who taught me how the glock sounded to spray\nRunning up and down the street screaming \"Fuck the Police!\"\nWhen you still had your mother's fucking Nipple stuck in your teeth (Fucking baby) \nBecame a role model after Colorado\nNow all they do is follow me around and holla Bravo!\nHell yea I punch my bitch and beat my kids in public\nSuck my dick bitch!\nI'm sick enough to fuck a man in his face but I won't\nCause you'll probably wanna stand in his place\nSo put a sock in it with your fake-ass Tupac image\nYou faggots ain't tough you just get drunk and become talkative (Wanna Fight?) \nI'm probably the akwardest alcoholic talking\nWalking like a midget with a ladder in his back pocket\nSo when you see me on your block stumbling, mumbling\nA bunch of dumb shit like my drunk uncle does\nI ain't buzzed! I'm just high on life\nSo why on earth would I need drugs, when I can fly on kites Motherfucker? Slim Shady\n \nDr. Dre!\n\n\nI'm drunk pass the tec\nCause if I get locked up tonight!\nThen I might not come home tonight!\n \nKeep it moving! Off and on, Eminem is on\nOff and on, Dr. Dre is On\n\nCause if I get locked up tonight!\nThen I might not come home tonight!\n\nKeep it moving! Off and on, Eminem is on\nOff and on, Dr. Dre is On\n\n\nThe whole entire world can sit and twirl like a whirling tire\nI set a fucking girl on fire with a curling iron (AHH!)\nPsych I'm just joking, for christ sake\nDon\u2019t get so bent out of shape\nCause I went out and raped six girlfriends\nSome people just don't get it, but I won't let it upset me\nCause they don't know better\nThey don't know what the fuck it's like to be so fed up\nAnd fed so many uppers you're down and won't get up\nMy mind's got a mind of it's own, sometimes I can't find it at home\nIt hides in the stove (Hello, where you at?)\nShit, talk about your brain being baked\nMy shit's still in the oven on 480 degrees\nHailey Jade, daddy loves you baby,\nDon't ever tell me how to raise my daughter! fuck you lady!\nYou critics wanna criticize but couldn't visualize\nIndividuals lives through a criminal's eyes\nThe neighborhood that I grew up in you could die for nothing\nAnd Dirty Dozen watches over me so try some dumb shit\nI'll have a fucking man raped with a band-aid over his mouth\nAnd shove his head in the fan blade\nDon't ever tell me what I can and what I can't say\nOr change cause of the age-range in my fan base\nLike I give a fuck who's buying this shit\nQuit fucking buying it, I'm tired bitch, I'm dying to quit\nHip-Hop is universal now, it's all commercial now\nIt's like a circle full of circus clowns up in the circuit now\nBut now the White kids like it, so they tell me I can buy it\nBut as soon as I get on the mic it's like the night gets silent\nEither that or booed, that\u2019s why I keep an attitude\nAnd go to sleep with it and wake up with it every afternoon\nI'm sick of being judged, fuck it let me see a judge\nI'll confess to every murder I committed since 3 years old\n \n \nCause if I get locked up tonight!\nThen I might not come home tonight!\n \nKeep it moving! Off and on, Eminem is on\nOff and on, Dr. Dre is On\n\nCause if I get locked up tonight!\nThen I might not come home tonight!\n\nKeep it moving! Off and on, Eminem is on\nOff and on, Dr. Dre is On\n\n\nFuck that, turn that shit off\nLet's get the fuck out of here\nYou know how we do"},
{"year": null, "title": "Chonkyfire Freestyle (Swag Juice)", "album": null, "lyrics": "I have no idea what I'm doing\nI have no idea what I'm doing, but\n\n\nEverybody get up, sit up Christopher\nThey're miserable without you, Superman is a-\n-live and he's flowing like the Mystic River\nGirl don't act like you never been kissed before\nOne, two, three, four, five, six, this a\nRhyme is about to hit you right in the kisser\nHow did anybody ever find me, I disap-\n-peared I was hiding in Freeway's beard, just a\nHop skip and a jump from my skin, gushing\nNails into my face that I been pushing\nHell-raiser, my face is my pincushion\nIt's like when I'm on the mic, I can squish a\nSucker like a vice-grip, my pen put ya\nIn the slaughterhouse cause ya styles been butchered\nI'll spin chainsaw, take off like the blades on\nMy brain's on hyperdrive someone put the brakes on\n\n\nHere's a smidget admitted to get your digits, Bridget\nDon't try to fidget with it, err ribbit, ribbit\nI got ya slippin on my swag juice, my swag juice\nI got ya slippin on my swag juice, my swag juice\n\n\nI got it figure out now nigga,\nSee, my minds on my money right here,\nAnd no one stopping how I getting it,\nAnd Hind Sight should never left when I was Living,\nAnd probably wouldn't be getting pressed by all these women,\nAnd then again, I wouldn't rap the ones I was diggin'\nSo annihilate the looking, and talking alot about the hood; Kim'n, Kim'n,\nUh, so Selena Williams, just like my dad talks about more John Dick'n,\nThis girl talkin' how she pregrent, she crazy, so later I crushed that hoe, and left baby,\nAnd never trust her, no shit! Even she specialize in massaging on my testicles, \nAnd I never trust her, a whole lot, even on the first date, she basically get her mouth rimmed,\nAnd turn around and ask me for a kiss, no bitch I'm straight, \nAnd I never really get concerned how my own dick tastes,\nI think I'm about to slip on my swag juice,\nI think I'm about to slip on your swag juice,\nOh, no! No! Don't slip on your swag juice,\nYe, ye! I think I'm about to slip on my swag juice.\n\n\n\n\nSlim is in the house, simmer down there sister\nBound to get you dizzy cause he gets as busy as a\nBee, baby you can throw a frizbee in a blizzard\nHe'll catch it in his teeth, what is he? He's a wizard\nStanding in the disco with a disco biscuit\nAnd I'm pretty sure it isn't Bisquick, is it?\nNow baby don't forget to bring your lipstick with ya\nI want a kiss 'fore I blow this bitch to smithe-\n-reens, get the guillotines, this is a situ-\n-ation that's critical as Dre spins his, uh\nTurntables and he cuts a record like a scissor\nCheka chicka, checka chicka, cheka-cheka chicka\nWho wreck it in a second tell me what the heck is sicker\nWait a minute, I just dropped my necklace in the liquor\nNow baby just to make a little breakfast and it's six o-\n-clock in the morning 'less you want to get some dessert"},
{"year": null, "title": "Bet Shady 2.0 Cypher", "album": null, "lyrics": "Welcome to Detroit\nThis is the BET Shady 2.0 Cypher 2011\nMyself, Slaughterhouse and Yelawolf\n\nWhite dog, get em!\n\n\nPut these muthafuckas in a box and I send \u2018em away\nPut 'em in a gray 'Lac and pop the trunk\nHey throw 'em in the back, jack, I dig \u2018em a grave\nPut a brick inside that Xerox, when I print \u2018em a page\nMoving keys I can't relate, cause I live in a cage\nI throw up the A, I take \u2018em to school,\nI give em a grade, an easy E for effort\nThat's WWA, white with an attitude\nAlphabet soup is on my plate\nAll I got is Z\u2019s they sleeping on me, I can\u2019t get \u2018em awake\nI spoon feed them the sound in a room full of deceivers and clowns\nWho believe they making it rain cause all they see is the clouds\nAnd I watch from the couch of the VIP\nLike a potato with a bunch of meatheads like fuck it\nI just feed em a cow\nPlenty of white boys to pick from this year\nBut before you can pick a pepper, you better pick up your heater\nCause even Peter Piper could pick up a mic\nBut what it's like to pick a fight with me\nIt\u2019s like putting Nikes on a cheetah, betta speed up\nOr at least in my case Addidas\nI'm out this bitch drinking Sprite by the 2 liter\nHoller, Shady records\n\n\nSay I\u2019m from the new school, I\u2019ma say check ya tone and watch ya mouth\nIf they teaching how to dougie, I\u2019m condoning dropping out\nForced to wile, y'all birthed and gave me up\nI just perfected being hip hops foster child, now check it\nI don\u2019t blame y\u2019all for being trash fans and copping it\nThe radio\u2019s the crime scene the masses are the hostages\nIn my youth I'd throw shots, the fan would dodging it\nI\u2019m grown, I ain't watching the throne, I\u2019m sabotaging it\nYou see that four headed monster and the storm looms\nSnipe \u2018em from a distance, the scope got a long zoom\nYou Super Mario thugs is in the wrong room\nGot a figure here you won\u2019t get bigger if you on shrooms\nWas left to me I'd revive what the game be \u2019bout\nI\u2019da took the wine outta Amy house\nEnough raps from you scrub cats about cocking a snub back\nWayne couldn\u2019t teach me how to love that\nBut I got this shit from uptown, she my summer bunny\nBoth parents broke but she comes from money\nThink my bread is her paper to burn\nSo I lock her out and now she doubt David is Stern\nShe so bad I make her hit the telly from a taxi\nThen dead her in that Holiday Inn\nLearnt that from Max B\nThat's why the haters of every kind wanna send me Llamas\nI made it right before they eyes like I was Benihanas\nIs it me? Or is what I'm hearing just pitiful?\nAirwaves the same now the stereo\u2019s typical\nMy skin thick so the critics ignore\nSo unafraid to die you think I did it before\nThe boys Rodman with the trash talk\nMagical walk with the black ball way I bounce off the asphalt with cat paws\nGlass jaw, hoody and mask would be the black folk with no passport\nBody be found in the mansion in one of my trap doors\nIf pumps had awards ya status whore category\nProbably be that of awards 'tween Michael Rappaport and Kenny Lattimore\nI know hip hops alive and well\nIf it died, you other crews wouldn\u2019t survive the smell\n\n(Ladies & Gentlemen... you're scared now)\n(Make that face at 'em dawg)\n(Crooked I.. get 'em)\n\n\nI spot a victim, the plot\u2019ll thicken when the clock is tickin'\nI caught em slippin', I gotta give em a shot, I hit em with proper spittin'\nHottest writtens and compositions, so competition's a contradiction\nSomebody mentioned they got it crooked, highly fiction,\nWe probably different, got Gotti henchmen,\nOpposition our body quick as Bugatti engines\nI\u2019m on a mission to get richer,\nThe sickest lyric kicker diggin' a ditch for different spitters\nSweet lyricists get disfigured, sip liquor\nSpit like a sick mixture\nOf Notorious Pun and L get the big picture\nThe poster I\u2019ll roast ya,\nMy mind so deadly it\u2019s just like the beanie is close to a holster\nIt\u2019s over control my whole coastal region like I\u2019m supposed to\nFlow is going postal evening, open season\nHeart close to freezing, ruthless is easy nigga\nApproach I\u2019m squeezing, believe me\nDopest West Coaster  breathing\nSo most y'all hope I\u2019m vegan, no pun, beefing\nRappers need to keep it trill\nGive me a beat to kill too many people still eating sleeping pills\nPeople sleeping on my ether skills\nAnd y'all ain't even real\nWe about to die in this cypher\nBefore you die you should do the Jada and leave a Will\nForeal\n\n\nYaooowa\nI ain't a rap dude, I\u2019m a dude who rap\nBefore this I was moving crack\nKillers y\u2019all become when y\u2019all rhyme, I salute and dap\nAnd if I blink then remove ya snaps, you ain't cool you wack\nWith ya foolish yac\u2019s? skinny jeans don't mean ya ass shoot\nIt means ya booty claps\nDon\u2019t play like Tyler Perry, this the Slaughterhouse of Pain\nFlow brown, tight and heavy\nWhen it comes to sixteen\u2019s I\u2019m a fiend feinding a studio\nNear a needle with a mean lean, probably writing bars to Nas \"Thief theme\"\nGetting my Yaowa on, may all the Olajuwon\u2019s be the dream team\nThis is an all day slaughter\nThey feindin for us to break like Beyonce\u2019s water\nThe four quarters doing all the eating\nAnd you gotta know why I made the cut, I\u2019m Puerto Rican\nOrtiz keep the fire ready\nAnd tryna put me out\u2019s like tryna steal a transvestite from Eddie\n\n\nI\u2019m do or die dope\nAnd you can make the sticker sittin' on the door\nOf that phantom your suicide note\nHi Rihanna..\nIs Nicki living with you? Let me know\nSo I can buy binoculars and telescopes\nHi Rihanna..\nI don\u2019t need to know you better\nYou tell me you love my music again, we go together\nBye Rihanna...\nNow back to y\u2019all fools\nWe rock out like the outside of a guitar school\nThousand dollar frames, I prefer to see the world through\nDon\u2019t ask me nothing bout Budden, I beat my girl too\nYou ask me why do I keep her? I say it\u2019s cheaper to\nThat\u2019s why I ride around in a Rolls like Wiz Khalifa do\nRappers, I\u2019m your daddy, I tell you straight as this\nYou don\u2019t kill but your father Will like Jaden Smith\nI tell ya like I tell my Spanish chick\nYou fly but I ain\u2019t going down on no landing strip\nSo get your wax on like Daniel-son\nOr I\u2019ma have to run like De La Hoya in drag when cameras come\nPoint out the greatest rapper alive I headshot \u2018em\nSmack his girl on the butt and buy her some red bottom\nBring every deceased rapper back to see his wife\nWhile I\u2019m cyber sexing with Jessica Alba, via Skype\nI\u2019m on my d-boy, d-bo thing\nSpiritual steelo swing like Cee-Lo Green\nGet out the camera with yo B Roll bling\nYou know your flow is whack\nWe cornered the market like a Wal-Mart in a cul-de-sac\nYeah, this what 2 million singles sold and a album that\u2019s gold\nLook like, without having to sell your soul\nNickle\n\n\nWait, can I rap?\n\n(You da Boss, you better get 'em)\n\nAyo... lyrical miracle spiritual individual criminal subliminal\nIn your swimmin' pool\n\n(Boo.. come on man, get back on.. kick that shit)\n\nYou \u2019bout to see peace destroyed\nIt\u2019ll never be restored\nWhen I unleash these beastly hoards on your CD stores\nWanna stop it, you gon' need a priest and at least three swords\nA license to ill from the Beastie Boys, 3 Ouija boards\nAnd a squeegee and please be warned don\u2019t ask for the squeegees for\nOr the holy water, acid rap that\u2019ll eat these floors\nEat a hole in a rhyme book, you see these horns?\nAnd as for me, you ask when I\u2019m gone \"will he be mourned?\"\nIs puke luke warm? Should Casey Anthony do porn?\nCan that chick fit a newborn dead baby inside a freakin' shoebox\nWith a shoehorn, smothered in chloroform so she can go get her groove on?\nCan she duct tape and Velcro a fetus? Joell yo,\nTell Joe I need his empty box from his old shell toe adidas\nSo I can put these babies in the fetal position,\nThey\u2019re getting elbows to the penis\nYeah, big deal. I took some little kids big wheel\nAnd spit in his fricken big kids meal\nQuit tryna bite me and pinch, you wench, sit still\nYou just put your six inch heel through my Benz windshield?\nIs it dust we bout to kick up?\nCan Yelawolf fit a fifth of rum in a big cup?\nBetween a stick shift in his fricken pick up\nAnd drink like a hick, redneck, hillbilly will till he gets hiccups?\nFlippin' the script up like Mike Vick\nGet bit in his junk by a pit, yup I\u2019m a sick pup\nI\u2019d be a horrible magician\nCause I\u2019d fuck that trick up\nFix ya lips up to say something fly, or zip up\nA-B? Let\u2019s C. You said you were gonna do X-Y-Z\nTill you fuck around and get dropped like an E\nWhen you add an I-N-G\nDon\u2019t put a K in front of that though, when I MC\nCause I\u2019m not the king of this microphone booth\nIt\u2019s more like a phonebooth\nSuperman in this bitch, kryptonite won\u2019t do\nIt gives me more power, I bump the fat boys and\nEat rat poison, take meteor showers\nFresh outta the mental hospital and me not flossing a middle finger\nWhile I hop in a mosh pit, will be like Nas doing gospel or R&B, you crazy?\nMe pushing up daisies? That thought is impossible\nAs if flashing across the news, Posdnuos was caught with a prostitute\nWith a huge Johnson, boobs, and a monstrous tube of lube\nAnd a bra, some boots, some panties, in an aqua blue Mazda\nSwallowing a popsicle, playing tonsil pool\nSo kill the rumors it ain\u2019t happenin'\nI\u2019ma rap till I\u2019m fossil fuel"},
{"year": null, "title": "Bad Influence", "album": null, "lyrics": "{Just pull the plug!}\r\nPeople say that I'm a bad influence\r\nI say the world's already fucked, I'm just addin to it\r\nThey say I'm suicidal, teenagers' newest idol {c'mon!}\r\nC'mon do as I do, go ahead get mad and do it\r\n{Just pull the plug!}\r\nPeople say that I'm a bad influence\r\nI say the world's already fucked, I'm just addin to it\r\nThey say I'm suicidal, teenagers' newest idol {c'mon!}\r\nC'mon do as I do, go ahead get mad and do it\r\n{Just let it gooo!}\r\n\r\n\r\nHand me an .8, beam me up and land me in space \r\nI'ma sit on top of the world {I'm here} and shit on Brandy and Mase\r\nI'm more than ill\r\nI'm scarier than a white journalist in a room with Lauryn Hill {Ahh!}\r\nHuman horror film\r\nbut with a lot funnier plot, and people that feel me\r\ncause I'ma still be Madd Rapper, whether I got money or not {yup}\r\nAs long as I'm on pills, and I got plenty of pot\r\nI'll be in a canoe paddlin, makin fun of your yacht\r\nBut I would like an award \r\nfor the best rapper to get one mic in The Source\r\nand a wardrobe I can afford\r\nOtherwise I might get sent up back-strike in a Ford\r\nAnd you wonder what the fuck I need more Vicadin for\r\nEverybody's pissin' me off; even the No Limit Tank \r\nlooks like a middle finger sideways flippin me off\r\nNo shit I'm a great danger to my health \r\nWhy else would I kill you then jump in the grave and bury myself?\r\n\r\n\r\n{Just pull the plug!}\r\nPeople say that I'm a bad influence\r\nI say the world's already fucked, I'm just addin to it\r\nThey say I'm suicidal, teenagers' newest idol {c'mon!}\r\nC'mon do as I do, go ahead get mad and do it\r\n{Just let it gooo!}\r\nPeople say that I'm a bad influence\r\nI say the world's already fucked, I'm just addin to it\r\nThey say I'm suicidal, teenagers' newest idol {c'mon!}\r\nC'mon do as I do, go ahead get mad and do it\r\n{Just do it!}\r\n\r\n\r\nI'm the illest rapper to hold the cordless, patrollin corners\r\nLooking for hookers to punch in the mouth with a roll of quarters\r\nI'm meaner in action than Roscoe beatin James Todd Sr.\r\nacross the back with vacuum cleaner attachments {Ow! Ow! Ow!}\r\nI grew up in a wild hood, as a hazardous youth\r\nwith a fucked up childhood, that I used as an excuse\r\nAnd ain't shit changed, I kept the same mindstate\r\nsince the third time that I failed 9th grade\r\nYou probably think that I'm a negative person, don't be so sure of it\r\nI don't promote violence, I just encourage it {c'mon}\r\nI laugh at the sight of death\r\nas I fall down a cement flight of steps {ahhhhhhhh!}\r\nand land inside a bed of spider webs\r\nSo throw caution to the wind; you and a friend\r\ncan jump off of a bridge and if you live, do it again\r\nShit, why not, blow your brain out, I'm blowin mine out\r\nFuck it, you only live once, you might as well die now!\r\n\r\n\r\n{Just let it gooo!}\r\nPeople say that I'm a bad influence\r\nI say the world's already fucked, I'm just addin to it\r\nThey say I'm suicidal, teenagers' newest idol {c'mon!}\r\nC'mon do as I do, go ahead get mad and do it\r\n{Just pull the plug!}\r\nPeople say that I'm a bad influence\r\nI say the world's already fucked, I'm just addin to it\r\nThey say I'm suicidal, teenagers' newest idol {c'mon!}\r\nC'mon do as I do, go ahead get mad and do it\r\n{Just do it!}\r\n\r\n\r\nMy laser disc gon' make you take a razor to your wrist\r\nMake you satanistic, make you take the pistol to your face \r\nand place the clip and cock it back\r\nand let it go until your brains are rippin out \r\nyour skull so bad to sew you back would be a waste of stitches\r\nI'm not a \"Role Model,\" I don't wanna babysit kids\r\nI got one little girl, and Hailey Jade is Shady's business\r\nAnd Shady's just an alias I made to make you pissed off\r\nWhere the fuck were you when Gil was paid to make me dishwash?\r\nI make a couple statements and now look how crazy shit got\r\nYou made me get a bigger attitude than eighty Kim Scott's\r\nAnd she almost got the same fate that Grady's bitch got\r\nI knew that \"Just the Two of Us\" would make you hate me this much\r\nAnd \"Just the Two of Us,\" that ain't got shit to do with us \r\nand our personal life, it's just words on a mic\r\nSo you can call me a punk, a pervert or a chauvinist pig\r\nBut the funny shit is that I still go with the bitch!"},
{"year": null, "title": "Fubba U Cubba Kubba (Freestyle)", "album": null, "lyrics": "I done figured this rap shit out\nI map shit out strategically\nTiming is everything and that seems to be the key\nTo my success, it's worked for me repeatedly\nLet 'em diss you first, and respond immediately\nAnd order the mask til they want a war, don't start a war\nShit not no more, we done scared em off, there are no more\nVictims to stick I'm fixin to pick some and start shit\nI'm outta \nPictures to rip and shit to throw darts at\nAin't got no more targets, shit Irv and Jeff\nWe done beat em to death, Benzino went deaf\nThere seems to just be no one left to bully\nBush is pussy\nWhy the fuck you think his name's Bush?\nPuss is bushy\nAin't shit goin on, shit I been gettin so bored lately\nI'm thinkin of doin some shit to get you to go and hate me again\nTo tell the truth, I liked the shit better then\nShit I could spit better, I'm bout to kick this sick shit again, look\nThe game just isn't the same, it's changin\nShit Dre's quittin, Jay'z quittin, now it's just gangstas just sayin the same shit\nIt's ancient, it's fakin\nIt's makin me so bored, I'mma just make a new language\nFubba you cubba kubba, yubba obubba uba\nYubba can subbabick my dubbibbabick through a tooba\nSummaladoomalama\nI'm not a human I'm a supersonic neurobonic suicidal unibomber\nYou think I'm a nuisce, I'm impressive I'm the new Madonna\nJeffery Dahmer left me with his legacy to carry on\nA lotta talk and rumors honest whos the hottest, to be honest\nHip hop ain't been the same since Tupac moved to Cuba on us"},
{"year": null, "title": "8 Mile Freestyle Pt.II vs Lotto", "album": null, "lyrics": "Yo, it's time to get rid of this coward once and for all.\nI'm sick of the motherfucker! Check this shit out!\n\nI'll spit a racial slur, honky, sue me!\nThis shit is a horror flick,\nBut the black guy doesn't die in this movie!\nFuckin' wit Lotto, dawg, you gotta be kidding!\nThat makes me believe you really don't have a interest in living!\nYou think these niggas gonna feel the shit you say?\nI got a better chance joining the KKK.\nOr some real shit, though, I like you\nThat's why I didn't wanna have to be the one you commit suicide to\nFuck 'Lotto,' call me your leader\nI feel bad I gotta murder that dude from \"Leave It To Beaver\"\nI used to like that show, now you got me to \"fight back\" mode\nBut oh well, if you gotta go, then you gotta go!\nI hate to do this, I would love for this shit to last\nSo I'll take pictures of my rear end so you won't forget my ass\nAnd all's well that ends OK.\nSo I'll end this shit wit a \"Fuck you, but have a nice day!\"\n\n\nWard, I think you were a little hard on the Beaver\nSo was Eddie Haskal, Wally, and Ms. Cleaver\nThis guy keeps screamin', he's paranoid!\nQuick, someone get his ass another steroid!\n\"Blahbity bloo blah blah blahbity bloo blah!\"\nI ain't hear a word you said, \"hipidy hooblah!\"\nIs that a tank top, or a new bra?\nLook, Snoop Dogg just got a fuckin' boob job!\nDidn't you listen to the last round, meat head?\nPay attention, you're sayin' the same shit that he said!\nMatter fact, dog, here's a pencil\nGo home, write some shit, make it suspenseful,\nAnd don't come back until something dope hits you\nFuck it! You can take the mic home with you!\nLookin' like a cyclone hit you,\nTank top screamin', \"Lotto, I don't fit you!\"\nYou see how far those white jokes get you\nBoy's like \"How Vanilla Ice gonna diss you?\"\nMy motto: Fuck Lotto!\nI get the 7 digits from your mother for a dollar tomorrow!"},
{"year": null, "title": "Down", "album": null, "lyrics": "These donuts are delicious... son of a bitch!\nWe got a 10-94 on Hines Road, requesting backup.\nRepeat, 10-94 on Hines Road heading southbound. I'm in pursuit!\n\nPick up, pick up, daddy's in the pickup\nGot so much bounce the kick drum give me the hiccups\nYou don't want it with me, sucker, just look up\nBeer flyin' in this mothafucka like bird shit\nRan these Mickey Thompsons up on the curb, bitch\nCrook as a picture on Sunday\nMy maniac Slumerican squad mount up around your Hyundai\nChevy's up, we got low lives and bow ties\nUp shit's creek, I'll take you for a boat ride\nStick his head in the water, now let him flap his lips\nMotormouth, make a wave, yeah, Roll Tide\nYou're playin' golf in lightning? So am I\nDressed in a tin man suit\nDrinkin' a tin can too, that is 110 proof\nMan if I only had a heart for you bitches\nI'd get down on my knees and help you dig them ditches\nBut mama only raised Hell\nSo when you're done diggin' that ditch, bitch, bury yourself\nPass me that Colt 45\nI'm partyin' 'til my fuckin' throat sore and dry\n\n\nI'm goin' down\nAww man you gotta love it\nI'm on my way\nHey mama, all around the town they're sayin'\n\"He's goin' down, Lord have mercy\"\nI'm country rich, no budget\nGot to get paid\nHey daddy, all around the town they're sayin'\n\"He's goin' down, Lord have mercy\"\n\nYou drivin' drunk, better lift your seat up\nCause cops pull us over just to fuckin' meet us\nCause Marshall's a Rap God, damn right\nWell, then I guess that makes me Jesus\nSo turn this water to whiskey\nWatch the dirty south go from dirty to filthy\nHigh class only means stoned in school\nJoints rolled up bigger than pony stool\nSmoke, stains on the roof of the old Regal's brown\nSo what I got spokes on this bitch, and?\nThe lift kicks like climbin' into a spaceship\nUFO's, unidentified flyin' Oldsmobiles\nAnd mobile homes, amen\nI can still smell the kerosene leakin'\nI should've seen the signs, I was blowin' up\nEither in a trailer home or a pickup\nHey, Bubba, your baby boy is in big trouble\nI fuckin' ran through a briar patch and got cut up\nNow I'm wide open in front of the whole town\nI bled for the game, I guess it's obvious now\nI'm goin' down now, he told me wear it with pride\nYou wanna take the hard road you gotta cherish the ride\nMost mothafuckers won't jump to embarrass the fly\nCan't build a legacy up, then let it perish and die"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Stronger Than I Was", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "You used to say that I'd never be nothing without you\nAnd I believe\nI\u2019m shot in the lungs, I gasp, I can\u2019t breathe\nJust lay here with me, baby, hold me please\nAnd I'd beg and I'd plead, drop to knees\nAnd I'd cry and I'd scream, \"Baby, please don't leave!\"\nSnatch the keys from your hand\nI would squeeze and you'd laugh\nAnd you'd tease, you're just fucking with me\nAnd you must hate me\nWhy do you date me if you say I make you sick?\nAnd you've had enough of me\nI smother you, I'm 'bout to jump off the edge\n\n\nBut you won't break me\nYou'll just make me stronger than I was\nBefore I met you, I'll bet you I'll be just fine without you\nAnd if I stumble, I won't crumble\nI'll get back up and uhhh\nAnd I'mma still be humble when I scream, \"Fuck you!\"\nCause I'm stronger than I was\n\n\nA beautiful face is all that you have\nCause on the inside you're ugly, and mad\nBut you're all that I love\nI grasp, you can't leave\nPlease stay here with me, baby, hold me please\n\nAnd I'd beg and I'd plead, drop to knees\nAnd I'd cry and I'd scream, \"Baby, please don't leave!\"\nbut you left and you took everything I had left\nAnd left nothing, nothing for me\nSo please don't wake me from this dream, baby\nWe're still together in my head\nAnd you're still in love with me\n'Til I woke up to discover that that dream was dead\n\n\n\n\nYou walked out, I almost died\nIt was almost a homicide that you caused cause I was so traumatized\nFelt like I was in for a long bus ride\nI'd rather die than you not by my side\nCan't count how many times I vomited, cried\nGo to my room, turn the radio on and hide,\nThought we were Bonnie and Clyde\nNo, on the inside you were Jekyll and Hyde I\nFelt like my whole relationship with you was a lie\nIt was you and I, why did I think it was ride or die?\nCause if you coulda took my life you woulda\nIt's like you put a knife to my chest and pushed it right through to the\nOther side of my back and stuck a spike, too, should've\nPut up more of a fight, but I couldn't at the time\nNo one could hurt me like you could've\nTake you back now, what's the likelihood of that?\nBite me, bitch, chew on a nineteen footer\nCause this morning I finally stood up\nHeld my chin up, finally showed a sign of life in me for the\nFirst time since you left me and left me with nothing but shattered dreams\nAnd the life we could've had and we could've been\nBut I'm breaking out of this slump I'm in\nPulling myself out of the dumps once again\nI'm getting up once and for all, fuck this shit\nI'mma be late for the pity party\nBut you're never gonna beat me to the fucking punch again\nTook it on the chin like a champ so don't lump me in with the chump-ions\nI'm done being your punching bag\n\nIt was November 31st today, would've been our anniversary\nTwo years, but you left on the first of May\nI wrote it on a calender, was gonna call, but couldn't think of the words to say\nBut they came to me just now, so I put 'em in a verse to lay\nAnd I thank you (uh) cause you made me (uh) a better person than I was\nBut I hate you (uh) cause you drained me (uh)\nI gave you all, you gave me none\nBut if you blame me (uh), you're crazy (uh)\nAnd after all is said and done\nI'm still angry, yeah, I may be\nI may never trust someone"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Don't Front", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "Used to get, bent, now I represent to the fullest\nPencil is full of insolent bullets\nI'm like a Doberman Pinscher, Pitbull and a Rott'\nMixed with a toxic, the plot begins to thicken\nI begin to spitting like vintage Pac, demented\nDemonic sinister, ever since the the Doc replenished me\nThe day he gave me that shot when I was just 'bout to quit\nSo to not see him with me would be a shocking image\nAnd I'm the definition of what a concrete chin is\nCause no matter how many times you sock me in it\nAnd knock me to the canvas, even the boxing critics\nKnow that if I get off to a rocky start, I'll always have a Rocky finish\nEat me brocoli, spinach, cocky? Nope\nBut I hope I offended you when I told ya how dope I am at this\nAnd put emphasis on the \"dope,\" so when names come up\nIn that conversation of who's the dopest, better throw mine in it\nAnd don't mind me, while I remind you of the flow\nYou won't find anywhere, where it fires and I unload my pen explodes\n'til there's no rhymes in it, reload in no time\nLet insults fly even sixty seconds that go by, so you know I meant it\nIn school I was so shy, timid\nTwo pairs of jean's I'd alternate, bummy clothes, I 'member\nBegging my mom for K-Mart MacGregors cause they were new\nSt. Vincent de Paul, those Pony's were used, and no size fitted\nBut kissed them old days, adios, I did it\nThey said I was a gimmick, now I'm the one that those guys mimic\nNow you fuckers don't wanna go starting no argument\nCause you know I'll win it, name a flow that's more authentic, and don't front\n\n\nDon't front, you know I got you open, kid\n\n\nRest in piece to Big Proof, you was a beast, you lyrically mirrored me\nMolded my flow off of you, your spirit's flowing through me\nI love you, Doody, without you I feel so incomplete\nI'm no king, no need for rose petals to be thrown at my feet\nI'm a thorn in your side, get thrown into a throne\nBetter watch the fucking tone that you speak, feel like I'm in the zone\nI'm in a whole different league on my mothafuckin' own, it's just me\nNo opponents can compete, and I've never been known to retreat\nFrom beef, beep-beep, follow trends or wallow in defeat\nI'm still hungry as fuck, but can't even say bon appetit\nCause I don't know what to eat, fucking microphone or the beat\nBitch, nobody's mind works like mine\nIt's nose to the grindstone time, holmes, your mind's blown\nCause I rhyme like I'm still trying to get signed, up in the Ebony Show-\n-case with Denaun screaming \"Who the fuck passed you the mic?\"\nNever asked you like my shit from the get\nI'd rather ask you to wipe my ass, bitch\nYou had you a nice run, now take a hike\nI ever meet my match, I'mma strike that bitch first\nCause on the mic I gotta represent the real rappers\nThe real rappers get their mothafuckin' skills cracking\nWord to Buckshot and Dru-Ha, why the fuck not?\nYou don't like it? Suck a cock! Almost forgot\nBefore I signed with the Doc, I almost signed with Duck Down\nCause Rawkus didn't make no offers, so mothafuck Loud\nThey jerked me around so what's up now?\nWow, how much of an asshole would I sound like\nRubbing it and holding some grudge now, but don't front\n\n\n\n\nLate at night, used to catch a buzz, couldn't write\nNow I write the type of shit to make you wipe\nBut wear diapers cause you might leave a streak\nI'm on a streak windshield wipers couldn't wipe\nIt's hard to decipher what cypher I might jump into tonight\nCause I'm hyper or something, needing someone or something is lighting\nThis fire under me, it's breathing new life, it's like I already died once\nI guess some people only live twice, and it's funny\nMy days of being broke was so long ago, I lost my concept of money\nBut you dimes won't get a fucking nickle from me\nOh shit, I'm down on one knee\nI'm having a stroke of genius, Elizabeth I'm coming to you, honey\nFrom boy to man, it's still make a whore moan like a thyroid gland\nI'm in another category, man, don't put me up with them pop stars\nI never needed a pat on the back to get at a boy, band\nNo offense? Yes offense, precedents has been set that'll never get met\nMiddle finger pressed against Moby's nose\nShouts to Obie, the curtains closed on my show\n(But never forget that I'm the one you thought wouldn't make it)\nYou can't take it, oh\nGot a whole generation of rappers coming up that are nutty with the flow\nBut convince me you've heard\nAn MC since me who's this good with the fucking mincing of words\nWithout mincing words that'll make you feel like I'm pinching a nerve\nWhose mentally disturbed, you might as well stick a knife in me and turn\nIt'll be like my skin being Indian burned\nHah, bitch there isn't one, when will you learn?\nNever been served if memory serves\nI'd battle that 'til my own recollection remembers these words\n\n\nYou know I got you open kid, stop fronting\nYou know I got you open, Word Life"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Rhyme Or Reason", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "(What's your name?) Marshall\n(Who's your daddy?) I don't have one\nMy mother reproduced like the Komodo Dragon\nAnd had me on the back of a motorcycle\nThen crashed in the side of locomotive with rap, I'm loco\nIt's like handing a psycho a loaded handgun\nMichelangelo with a paint gun in a tantrum\nAbout to explode all over the canvas\nBack with the Yoda of rap in a spasm\n(Your music usually has them)\n(But waned for the game your enthusiasm it hasn't)\n(Follow you must, Rick Rubin my little Padawan)\nA Jedi in training, colossal brain and, thoughts of entertaining\nBut docile and impossible to explain and, I'm also vain and\nProbably find a way to complain about a Picasso painting\nPuke Skywalker, but sound like Chewbacca when I talk\nFull of such blind rage I need a seeing eye dog\nCan't even find the page, I was writing this rhyme on, (oh..)\nIts on a rampage, couldn't see what I wrote I write small\n(It says) Ever since I drove a 79 Lincoln with white walls\nHad a fire in my heart, and a dire desire to aspire, to DIE HARD\nSo as long as I'm on the clock punching this time card\nHip hop ain't dying on my watch\n\n\nBut sometimes, when I\u2019m sleeping, she comes to me in my dreams\nIs she taken? Is she mine? Don\u2019t got, I don\u2019t care, don\u2019t have two shits to give\nLet me take you by the hand, to promise land, and threaten everyone\n'Cause there\u2019s no rhyme or no reason for nothing\n\n\nNah, (What's your name?) Marshall\n(Who\u2019s your daddy?) I don\u2019t know him, but I wonder\n(Is he rich like me?) Ha ha\n(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you need to live?)\nNO\n\n\nIf he had, he wouldn\u2019t have ended up in these rhymes on my pad\nI wouldn\u2019t be so mad, my attitude wouldn\u2019t be so bad, yeah, dad\nI'm the epitome and the prime example of what happens\nWhen the power of the rhyme falls into the wrong hands, and\nMakes you want to get up and start dancing\nEven if it is Charles Manson who just happens, to be rapping\nBlue lights flashing, laughing all the way to the bank\nLamping in my K-Mart mansion, I\u2019m in the style department\nWith a pile in my cart, ripping the aisle apart\nWith great power comes absolutely no responsibility, for content\nCompletely, despondent, and condescending\nThe king of nonsense and controversy is on a\nBeat killing spree, your honor, I must plead\nGuilty, 'cause I sparked a revolution\nRebel without a cause, who caused the evolution of rap\nTo take it to the next level, boost it\nBut several rebuked it, and whoever produced it\n(Hip hop is the devil's music) Is that me? It belongs to me?\n'Cause I just happen to be, a white honky devil with two horns\nThat don't honk but every time I speak you, hear a beep?\nBut lyrically I never hear a peep, not even a whisper\nRappers better stay clear of me, bitch\n'Cause it's the\u2026\n\n\nIt's the time of the season, when hate runs high\nAnd this time I won't give it to you easy\nWhen I take back what's mine, with pleasured hands\nAnd torture everyone, that is my plan, my job here isn't done\n'Cause there's no rhyme or no reason for nothing\n\n\n(Whats your name?) Shady\n(Who\u2019s your daddy?) I don\u2019t give a fuck, but I wonder\n(Is he rich like me?) Doubt it, ha\n(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you need to live?)\n\n\nSo yeah dad let's walk\nLet's have us a father and son talk\nBut I bet we wouldn't probably get one block\nWithout me knocking your block off\nThis is all your fault\nMaybe that's why I'm so bananas\nI appeal to all those walks of life\nWhoever had strife\nMaybe that's what dad and son talks are like\n'Cause I related to the struggles of Young America\nWhen their fucking parents were unaware of their troubles\nNow they're ripping out their fucking hair again\nIt's hysterical, I chuckle\n'Cause everybody bloodies their bare knuckles\nYeah, uh oh, better beware knuckle heads\nThe sign on my hustle says \"Don't knock\"\nThe doors broken, it won't lock\nIt might just fly open, get cold-cocked\nYou critics come pay to me a visit\nMisery loves company, please stay a minute\nKryptonite to a hypocrite\nZip your lip if you dish it but can't take it\nToo busy getting stoned in your glass house\nTo kick rocks, then you wonder why I lash out\nMister Mathers as advertised on the flyers\nSo spread the word 'cause I'm promoting my passion 'til I'm passed out\nCompletely brain dead Rainman\nDoing the Bankhead in a restraint chair\nSo bitch, shoot me a look it better be a blank stare\nOr get shanked in the pancreas, I'm angrier than\nAll 8 of the reindeer put together with Chief Keef\n'Cause I hate every fucking thing, yeah\nEven this rhyme bitch, and quit tryna look\nFor a fucking reason for it that ain't there\nI still am a CRIMINAL\nTen year old degenerate grabbing on my GENITALS\nThe last Mathers LP done went diamond\nThis time I'm predicting this one will go EMERALD\nWhen will the madness end, how can it when\nThere's no method the pad and pen\nThe only message that I have to send\nIs \"Dad, I'm back at it again.\"\nBitch (who's your daddy?)"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "Cold Wind Blows", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "Cause some things just don't change\nIt's better when they stay the same\nAlthough the whole world knows your name\nSo on a bigger stage they came to see you spit your game\nOoooohhhhhhh\nIt shouldn't be difficult to explain\nJust why you came back again, you hate the fame\nLove the game, cold as ice you remain\nFuck em' all, tell 'em all eat shit, here we go again\n\nSo, god damn... is it that time again already\nHaha, you don't look too happy to see me\nFuck man, don't everybody welcome me back at once\nAll right, fuck ya'll then\n\n\nYou can get the dick, just call me the ballsack, I'm nuts\nMichael Vick in this bitch, dog fall back you mutts\nFuck your worms, you never seen such a sick puppy\nFuck it a sick duck, I want my duck sick mummy\nAnd my nuts, licked, gobble 'em up trick, yummy\nBitch you don't fucking think I know that you suck dick dummy?\nYou'll get your butt kicked, fuck all that love shit honey\nYeah I laugh when I call you a slut, it's funny!\nShawty dance while I diss you to the beat, fuck the words\nYou don't listen to 'em anyway, yeah struck a nerve sucker\nMotherfucker might as well let my lips pucker\nLike Elton John, cause I'm just a mean cock sucker\nThis shit is on, cause you went and pissed me off\nNow I'm shitting and pissing on everybody\nGive a fuck if it's right or wrong\nSo buck the Buddha, light a bong\nBut take a look at mariah the next time I inspire you to write a song, c'mon\n\n\nOh oh oh oh oh oh oh, I'm as cold as the cold wind blows\nWhen it snows and it's twenty be-low\nAsk me why man I just don't know know know know know know know\nI'm as cold as the cold wind blows blo-blo-blo-blo-blo-blows\nOh oh oh oh oh\n\n\nFuck it I'm a loose cannon, Bruce Banner's back in the booth\nYa'll are sitting ducks, I'm the only goose standing\nI set the world on fire, piss on it, put it out\nStick my dick in a circle, but I'm not fucking around motherfucker\nI'll show you pussy footin, I'll kick a bitch in the cunt\n'Til it makes her queef and sounds like a fucking whoopy cushion\nWho the fuck is you pushin', you musta mistook me for some sissy\nSoft punk looking for some nookie or bosom\nGo ahead, fucking hater push me\nI told you ain't no fucking way to shush me\nCall me a faggot cause I hate a pussy\nMan the fuck up sissy, G's up\nAll you gardeners freeze up, put your hoes down (shady ease up!)\nMan chill, nah I can't god damnit\nRap is a landfill, drop the anvil\nThese are shoes that you can't fill\nShit the day that happens the world'll stop spinning\nAnd Michael J. Fox'll come to a stand still\nDuring an earthquake, urine in your face\nCause you're fake, ahh what the fuck, that hurt wait!\nAhh what the fuck, I just got struck by lightening\nAlright then I quit, god I give up\nCall it evil that men do, lord forgive me for what my pen do\nThis is for your sins, I cleanse you\nYou can repent but I warn you, if you continue\nTo hell I'll send you, and just then the wind blew and I said\n\nOh oh oh oh oh oh oh, I'm as cold as the cold wind blows\nWhen it snows and it's twenty be-low\nAsk me why man I just don't know know know know know know know\nI'm as cold as the cold wind blows blo-blo-blo-blo-blo-blows\nOh oh oh oh oh\n\n\nHow long will I be this way? Shady until my dying day\n'Til I hang up the mic and it's time for me to say\nSo long, 'til then I drop the fucking bombs\nLike I miss the pass when I went long\nIf you don't like it you can kiss my ass in a lint thong\nNow sing along, slut this, slut that, learn the words to the song\nOh bitches don't like that, homie I'll be nicer to women\nWhen the aqua man drowns and the human torch starts swimming\nMan I'm a cold soul, I roll solo so\nSo don't compare me to them other bums over there\nIt's like apples to oranges, peaches to plums yeah\nI'm bananas pussy, cut off the grapes and grow a pair\nBut I swear, you try to diss me, I'll slaughter you\nI put that on everything, like everyone does with auto-tune\nThat last thing you wanna do is have me spit out a rhyme\nAnd say I was writing this and I thought of you so\n\nOh oh oh oh oh oh oh, I'm as cold as the cold wind blows\nWhen it snows and it's twenty be-low\nAsk me why man I just don't know know know know know know know\nI'm as cold as the cold wind blows blo-blo-blo-blo-blo-blo-blows\nOh oh oh oh oh\n\n\nOh oh oh oh oh oh\nI don't know, I don't know what caused, I don't know what caused me to be this way\nI don't know, I don't know but I probably be this way 'til my dying day\nI don't know why I'm so, I'm so cold mean things I don't mean to say\nI guess this is how you made me"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "Wee Wee", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "Put it on my wee wee!\nBanana, strawberry, pineapple, orange! \n\n\nGot a dick, it's as big as a banana\nI try to control it, but I can't.\nIt's too tough, it's like an AK flip banana.\nYou better watch out, Hannah Montana!\nMan, what's the matter? Have you no manners? (no!)\nYou know the girl from Juno's address?\nYeah, I'm a prob'ly go to jail for that.\nNow I got the cops on my tail for that!\nRun up on your car with a stale banana\nIn your tail pipe, can't believe you fell for that.\nIt coulda been a Molotov Cocktail for that.\nWait a minute, man! What the hell was that?\nI heard a noise, where you goin'? What are you, bananas?!\nYou can't go back there, stupid ass!\nI just seen a woman in a Freddy Krueger mask.\nWho the fuck are you, Superman?\nAll you have is a little stupid can\nOf whipped cream what the hell you gonna do with that?\nI'm a put it on my wee wee. Ooh, good answer!\nA super bonanza extravaganza.\nMan, go ahead, what you waitin' for?\nYou better get them clothes off, baby boy.\nCome on! Let's go! We're gonna make a porn!\nReady, set, go! Hit play, record!\n\n\n\n\nAre you ready? - You better hold the camera steady.\nShe's pro'ly back there with a damn machete!\nShe's pro'ly gonna eat you like canned spaghetti\nShe's pro'ly gonna kill ya; still wanna check, see?\nHave a little quick look? - Go on?\nShe's pro'ly six foot tall like bigfoot, the hell with that?\nWe probably should run, don't dare look back!\nWe probably, probably, probably\nThere probably was a problem at the post office or something\nBut you probably didn't know that, did ya?\nNow what ya gonna do when she gets ya?\nI ain't goin' with ya, forget ya!\nQuit tryna hold my hand, mista'!\nPretend she's your little sista'! - Little sista'! \nMight as well take the whipped cream with ya\nAnd when you see her, make sure you get a picture!\nWe could try to make another \"Blair Witch-a - movie\"\nA beastiality porno with smoothies.\n\n\n\n\nIt's Eerie, but here comes Zack and Miri\nThe \"Beauty And The Beast\", his back is hairy.\nBut she don't care, they're attractive, very\nVery sexually active, very.\nNo, Zack! Don't go back in there!\nIt's too late now, she's grabbin' hair!\nHe screams: \"Bloody Mary!\" - Grabs a mirror\nBut stop just ain't in her vocabular.\n\"Get off me, please! Get off me, stop!\"\nBallin' back at a coffee shop.\nThey go non-stop. - She says: \"Go!\"\nHe says: \"No! \" - She says: \"Oh!\"\nBack and forth, they scream and shout.\nYeah, boy; let them demons out!\nIt's the kinda nightmare you dream about\nUh-oh! Now the whipped cream is out.\nI get sick thoughts. - Sick, sick, thoughts.\nThe things you could do with your lipstick gloss.\nPut it on my dick 'til the tip looks orange.\nBitch, keep going! - Bitch, keep going!\n\n\n\n\nBanana...\nBanana...\nBanana... \nBanana...\nBanana..."},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Desperation", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "Girl, you give me writer's block\nI'm at a loss for words, uhh\nMy mind's as lost as yours\nI rack my brain but still no thoughts emerge\nNever seen no ass as large as yours\nHow much that cost? That's what I call the cost to splurge\nYou drive me bonkers, I\u2019m about to get my swerve on for sure\nThought I was pimpin' 'til I felt like Nas, the first\nDate cause I think I gave you power, when I gave you flowers in a vase\nA box of chocolates, throat lozengers, cough drops and Certs\nProbably should've never let me call that job of yours\nTo talk to your boss and ask him if you can take off from work\nShould've been one of the first signs to cause alert\nMan we jumped in too fast, cause since then I just can't be apart from her\nCause nobody's body's awesomer, I lust it and she loves me\nCause I'm popular, but you know this ain't love\n\n\nYou know this ain't love, you know this ain't love\nYou know this ain't love, you know this ain't love (What is it then?)\nIt's desperation (She's looking for Mr. Right, wants me to be that guy to her)\nIt's desperation (I can't even put up a fight, cause I give in at the sight of her)\n(And I here I go again)\n\n\nYou were obviously oblivious to me, I swore I was just invisible to you\nTill I went to the lengths I did to meet you\nCause you played so hard to get with me from the beginning\nNow I'm in disbelief I, never knew that this could be such misery, ah\nCause now you see nothing but me, and I don't see nothing but you\nAnd I'm about to flip cause we are super glued in\nWe stuck to each other's hips and we can't\nDo anything individually, which is to cling on, scared to be alone\nCan't, specifically describe it I just can't seem to give a reason\nThis definitive, just need you, talking bout I live and breathe you\nAnd you pretend to be as mentally and physically\nAddicted to me as Wiz Khalifa is to reefer\nDon't wanna be without you\nDon't wanna be with you neither, bitch\nPut me in a situation in which it's both I wish to seek\nCause this ain't love\n\n\n\n\nJust want you to myself, don't wanna share you with no one else\n\"What the fuck you whispering for?\nYou get on my nerves, you make me sick\nI think our relationship, it seems to be on the fritz\nI mean it's time that we just split and leave the\nGames behind your frame of mind ain't the same as mine\nI think you need to finish developing a little more mentally too\"\nGet the picture\nThat's a negative, Alicia, I will never give the keys up\nTo the crib, ever again, no reason not even a gift certificate from Tiffany's\nYou better have an epiphany, slut, guess what? The lease up\nI'm just mad the time it took to discover\nYou were using me for loot like I used you for looks\nOh, thought you was too good for me, huh? yeah\nToots, used to be my Carrie Underwood, I was your lumberjack\nBut I can't stomach this, I'm leaving you, I'm not coming back\nShe said, \"The fuck with that, where's my Louisville Slugger at?\"\nShe grabbed that fucking bat and swung it at my head\nI barely ducked and that's right\nWhen she came up with a kick to the nuts twice, steel toe\nGirl probably coulda put a 100-yard field goal through the uprights"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "You're Never Over", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "The days are cold living without you (without you)\nThe nights are long I'm growing older\nI miss the days of old thinking about you (about you)\nYou may be gone but you're never over\n\n\nIf Proof could see me now I know he'd be proud\nSomewhere in me deep down there's something in me he found\nThat made him believe in me now no one can beat me now\nYou try it'll be them doors on Dre's fans believe me clowns\nThat means suicide homie you'll never throw me\nOff of this course blow me\nBitch I do this all for the sport only\nBut I want it all I'm not just talking awards homie\nAnd the balls in my court and it's lonely\nOn top of the world when you're the only\nOne with the balls in your shorts\nTo leave their jaws on the floors with no re\nMorse remember that when they get to dogging you boy homie\nSo ya all can just get to blogging about bologna I'm not gonna stop the saga continues\nNo stopping the force Obi\nI'm mopping the floors with em\nI keep trying to pass it but they keep on dropping the torch and it won't be long til this sport is O-V-E-R\njust Blaze and me we are knocking on doors and no we\nAin't pumpkins on Halloween but we'll show up on your porch so be\nCareful what you say there ain't no punks over here so follow me\nThrough the fog like I'm S-N double O-P\nLet me guide you through the smoke G\nIf only I wasn't travelling down this road by my lonely\nNo one who knew me like you will ever know me\nI don't think you understand how much you meant to me\n\n\nThe days are cold living without you (without you)\nThe nights are long I'm growing older\nI miss the days of old thinking about you (about you)\nYou may be gone but you're never over\n\n\nAnd it don't stop oh\nAnd it don't quit oh\nAnd it don't stop oh\nAnd it don't quit oh\nAnd I miss you oh\nI just miss you oh\nI just miss you oh\nHomie I'll never forget you no\n\n\nFor you I wanna write the sickest rhyme of my life\nSo sick it'll blow up the mic It'll put the dyna in mite\nYeah it'll make the dopest MC wanna jump off a bridge and shit himself\nTap dancing all over the beat it'll jump off the page and spit itself\nGuess that the best thing I could do right now Doody for you is to rap\nSo I'm gonna fuck 'til I die yeah I'm a do it to death\nAnd instead of mourning your death I'd rather celebrate your life\nElevate to new heights step on the gas and accelerate I'm a need 2 mics\nCause the way that I'm feeling tonight everything I can just do right\nThere's nothing that I can do wrong I'm too strong and I'm just too hyped\nJust finish the rhyme and bust it excuse this corny metaphor\nBut they'll never ketchup to all this energy that I've mustard\nSo God just help me out while I fight through this grieving process\nTrying to process this loss is making me nauseous\nBut this depression ain't taking me hostage\nI've been patiently watching this game pacing these hallways\nYou had faith in me always\nProof you knew I'd come out of this slump rise from these ashes\nCome right back on they asses and go Mike Tyson on these bastards\nAnd I'm a show em blow em out the water slaughter em homes\nI'm a own so many belts the only place they can hit me is below em\nHomie I know I'm never gonna be the same without you\nI never would've came in this game I'm going insane without you\nMatter of fact it was just the other night had another dream about you\nYou told me to get up I got up I spread my wings and I flew\nYou gave me a reason to fight I was on my way to see you\nYou told me nah Doody you're not laying on that table I knew\nI was gonna make it soon as you said think of Hailie I knew\nThere wasn't no way that I was gonna ever leave them babies and Proof\nNot many are lucky enough to have a guardian angel like you\nLord I'm so thankful, please don't think that I don't feel grateful, I do\nJust grant me the strength that I need for one more day to get through\nSo homie this is your song I dedicate this to you\nI love you Doody\n\n\nThe days are cold living without you (without you)\nThe nights are long I'm growing older\nI miss the days of old thinking about you (about you)\nYou may be gone but you're never over\n\n\nAnd it don't stop oh\nAnd it don't quit oh\nAnd it don't stop oh\nAnd it don't quit oh\nAnd I miss you oh\nI just miss you oh\nI just miss you oh\nHomie I'll never forget you no"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Forever", "album": "\"Relapse: Refill\" (2009)", "lyrics": "It may not mean nothing to yall\nBut understand nothing was done for me\nSo I dont plan on stopping at all\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man\nIm shutting shit down at the mall\nAnd telling every girl she the one for me\nAnd I aint even planning to call\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man, ever man\n\n\nLast name ever\nFirst name greatest\nLike a sprained ankle boy I aint nothing to play with\nStarted off local but thanks to all the haters\nI know G4 pilots on a first name basis\nIn your city faded off the brown, Nino\nShe insists she got more class, we know\nSwimming in the money come and find me, Nemo\nIf I was at the club you know I ball, chemo\nDrop the mixtape that shit sounded like a album\nWho'da thought a country wide tour'd be the outcome\nLabels want my name beside the X like Malcolm\nEverybody got a deal, I did it without one\nYeah nigga I'm about my business\nKilling all these rappers you would swear I had a hit list\nEveryone who doubted me is asking for forgiveness\nIf you aint been a part of it at least you got to witness\nBitches\n\n\nIt may not mean nothing to yall\nBut understand nothing was done for me\nSo I dont plan on stopping at all\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man\nIm shutting shit down at the mall\nAnd telling every girl she the one for me\nAnd I aint even planning to call\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man, ever man\n\n\nI used to have hood dreams\nBig fame, big chains\nI stuck my dick inside this life until that bitch came\nI went hard all fall like the ball teams\nJust so I can make it rain all spring\nYall seen my story my glory\nI had raped the game young\nYou can call it statutory\nWhen a nigga blow up they gon build statures of me\nOld money Benjamin Button, whaat, nuttin\nNow superbad chicks giving me McLovin\nYou would think I ran the world like Michelles husband\nYou would think these niggas would know me when they really doesnt\nLike they was down with the old me no you fucking wasnt\nYoure such a fucking loser\nHe didnt even go to class Bueller\nTrade the Grammy plaques just to have my granny back\nRemember she had that bad hip like a fanny pack\nChasing the stardom will turn you into a maniac\nAll the way in Hollywood and I cant even act\nThey pull their cameras out and God damn they snap\nI used to want this thing forever yall can have it back\n\n\nIt may not mean nothing to yall\nBut understand nothing was done for me\nSo I dont plan on stopping at all\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man\nIm shutting shit down at the mall\nAnd telling every girl she the one for me\nAnd I aint even planning to call\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man, ever man\n\n\nOk, hello it's da Martian\nSpace jam Jordans\nI want this shit forever wake up and smell the garden\nFresher than the harvest\nStep up to the target\nIf I had one guess than I guess I'm just New Orleans\nAnd I will never stop like I'm running from the cops\nHop up in my car and told my chauffeur to the top\nLife is such a fucking roller coaster then it drops\nBut what should I scream for this is my theme park\nMy minds shine even when my thoughts seem dark\nPistol on my side you dont wanna hear that thing talk\nLet the king talk check the price and pay attention\nLil Wayne thats what they got to say or mention\nIm like Nevada in the middle of the summer\nIm resting in the lead I need a pillow and a cover\nShhh, my foots sleeping on the gas\nNo brake pads, no such thing as last\n\n\nIt may not mean nothing to yall\nBut understand nothing was done for me\nSo I dont plan on stopping at all\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man\nIm shutting shit down at the mall\nAnd telling every girl she the one for me\nAnd I aint even planning to call\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man, ever man\n\n\nThere they go, packin' stadiums as Shady spits his flow\nNuts they go, macadamian they go so ballistic, whoa\nHe can make them look like Bozos\nHe's wondering if he should spit this slow\nFuck no! Go for broke\nHis cup just runneth over, oh no\nHe aint had a real buzz like this since the last time that he overdosed\nTheyve been waiting patiently for Pinocchio to poke his nose\nBack into the game and they know\nRap will never be the same as before\nBashing in the brains of these hoes\nAnd establishing a name as he goes\nThe passion and the flame is ignited\nYou cant put it out once we light it\nThis shit is exactly what the fuck that I'm talking about when we riot\nYou dealin with a few true villains\nWhose stand inside of the booth truth spillin\nAnd spit true feelings, until our tooth fillings come flying up out of our mouths\nNow rewind it!\nPayback muthafucka for the way that you doubted me hows it taste?\nWhen I slap the taste out your mouth with the bass so loud that it shakes the place\nIm Hannibal Lecter so just in case youre thinking of saving face\nYou aint gonna have no face to save by the time I'm through with this place\nSo Drake\n\n\nIt may not mean nothing to yall\nBut understand nothing was done for me\nSo I dont plan on stopping at all\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man\nIm shutting shit down at the mall\nAnd telling every girl she the one for me\nAnd I aint even planning to call\nI want this shit forever man, ever man, ever man, ever man"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Buffalo Bill", "album": "\"Relapse: Refill\" (2009)", "lyrics": "\"It fits, perfect\"\r\n\r\n\r\nBetter watch out, sucka now I gotcha where I want ya\r\nOnslaught, comin and I'm packin in my lunch up\r\nBunch of, missile launchers and a bunch of contra-\r\n-band, van full of ganja, now come on jump\r\nMan stop, mashin Marshall on my gotcha\r\nDoin the cha-cha and the cucaracha with a quadra-\r\n-plegic, boogeyin down to Frank Sinatra\r\nLindsay to the Lohan naked while you let me watch ya\r\nWho'da knew the buddah do to me what it's done\r\nSuch cynicism when this isn't in my system\r\nBlunt hypnotism, lift the spliff up to my lips son\r\nSo much on my hands I got to give my kids a fist bump\r\nChristo-pher Reeves swimmin in my swim trunks\r\n\"Mister, help me\" 's what he said to me and then sunk\r\nWomen skinning and then cutting them up in chunks\r\nIn comes the woman with cocoa butter skin once\r\n\r\n\r\nOnce again they call me Buffalo Bill\r\nBuffalo Bill, Buffa-Buffalo Bill\r\nSkin 'em up, hem 'em, sew 'em up in those kilts\r\nUp in those kilts, uppa-up in those kilts\r\nMan you don't want to go up in those hills\r\nUp in those hills, uppa-up in those hills\r\nYou better beware, stay clear of Buffalo Bill\r\nBuffalo Bill, Buffa-Buffalo Bill\r\n\r\n\r\nAlways, you can see him lurkin in the hallways\r\nCarcasses of Caucasian females in his crawl space\r\nHow the hell did he fit 'em all into such a small place\r\nHide 'em in the wall, well how long will the drywall take?\r\nWell fuck it then, I got nothing but time, I'll wait\r\nUntil it dries for the moment I guess you're all safe\r\nAfter I sand it and buff it I guess that I'll paint\r\nMy chainsaw's out of gas, my regular saw ain't\r\nNow here I come again, damn stomach rumblin\r\nYou can even hear the evil spirits comin from within\r\nSomeone's in, the back of my damn house rummagin\r\nIt's a girl, she looks pretty thin, but I want to skin\r\nBeen, on the hunt again; when, will it ever end?\r\nEvelyn, why you tryin to fight? You will never win\r\nSeverin, legs, arms, damn there goes another limb\r\nPull the lever then, trapdoor, death is evident\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nNow what you know about Buffalo Bill? Nothin so chill\r\nFuckin whore you better fuckin hold still\r\nMake sure none of that, lotion in the bucket don't spill\r\nCut 'em, gut 'em and just keep to stuffin those girls\r\nMan I think she had enough of those pills\r\nSedate her then I'll wait, I'll come back later just to clutch on those steel\r\nBlades, baby when I cut ya don't squeal\r\nI hate the loud noises, I fuckin told you!\r\nI keep hearin voices like wouldn't ya like to go and get your butcher knife\r\nAnd push it right through her while you put ya shish-kabob skewers\r\nInto her, barbecue her or would you do to her\r\nWhat you usually do to a girl who's skin's newer?\r\n \"In a world of sin you are, this is turnin into a\r\nTorment tournament of sorts, Christmas ornament you are!\"\r\nI'll be sure to Ginsu ya 'til there's no more skin to ya\r\nBoo-yah, who ya think you're fuckin with; duck because here he comes again"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Mr. Mathers (Skit)", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Mr. Mathers... Mr. Mathers can you hear my voice? OK he's not responding\r\nI'm gonna need an 18 gauge left AC right away Uh, BP is 90 over 12, respiration's at 8\r\nOK I'm tubing him DMC this is medic 41  Medic 41, this is DMC base, go ahead\r\nHe's cold, spike him back and grab the back board \r\nOK, got it, on 3... 1, 2, 3 Hu-let's move..."},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Insane", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "I was born with a dick in my brain, yeah fucked in the head\nMy stepfather said that I sucked in the bed 'Til one night he snuck in and said\nWe're going out back, I want my dick sucked in the shed\nCan't we just play with Teddy Ruxpin instead?\nAfter I fuck you in the butt, get some head, Bust a nut, get some rest\nThe next day my mother said \"I don't know what the fuck's up with this kid!\nThe bastard won't even eat nothing he's fed He just hung himself in the bedroom he's dead\"\n\"Debbie don't let that fucker get you upset\nGo in there, stick a fuckin' cigarette to his neck I bet you he's fakin' it,\nI bet you I bet he probably just wants to see how upset you would get I'll go handle this of course, unless you object\"\n\"Ah go fuck his brains out, if any's left in his head\"\n\n\nIf you could count the skeletons in my closet Under my bed and up under my faucet\nThen you would know I've completely lost it Is he nuts? NO! He's insane!\n\n\"Did you get him?\" Naaw, fucker tried to bite my face off I just got fuckin' chased off with a chainsaw!\nThen he took the chainsaw, bit the fuckin' blades off\nAte the blades, stuck a baseball in a slingshot\nThen he aimed at his own face, let the thing pop\nTook his eye out, picked it up and played ping pong\nThen he played ping pong with his own ding dong!\nThat motherfucker's got nuts like King Kong Then he set the lawn mower out on the dang lawn\nAnd he laid all up underneath it with the thing on\nThen he took his pants, he took every fuckin' thing off\nEverything, except his tank top and his training bra\nAin't he raw? Yeah maniac, that's Shady dog\nMan that motherfucker's gangsta, ain't he dog?\nShady dog, what be going through that fuckin' brain of yours\nSay no more, what the fuck you waitin' for, sing along\n\n\nIf you could count the skeletons in my closet Under my bed and up under my faucet\nThen you would know I've completely lost it Is he nuts? NO! He's insane!\n\nDon't you know what felch means? (yeah), well then tell me Would you rather get felched or do the felching?\nFuck him in the ass, suck the cum out while you're belching\nBurp, belch, then go back for a second helping Can you dig what I'm sayin' man, can you smell me?\nI want you to feel me like my step father felt me (oohh)\nFuck a little puppy, kick the puppy while he's yelping \"Shady what the fuck you saying!?\"\nI don't know help me! What the fuck's happening, I think I'm fucking melting\n\"Marshall I just love you boy, I care about your well being\" No Dad, I said no,\nI don't need no help peeing I'm a big boy, I can do it by myself see!\nI only get naked when the baby sitter tells me She showed me a movie like \"Nightmare on Elm Street\"\nBut it was X, and they called it \"Pubic Hair on Chelsea\"\n\"Well this is called ass rape, and we're shooting the jail scene\"\n\n\nIf you could count the skeletons in my closet Under my bed and up under my faucet\nThen you would know I've completely lost it Is he nuts? NO! He's insane!"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "My Darling", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "If I woulda rap about the crap that's out\nThat's the route you probably want me to take\nCause you're just dyin' to know what I think\nAnd my take on some other rappers\nIf I was to say something about Paul Wall, you'd probably crap in your\nPants, cause I'm white, and he's white, so he's like\nMy competition I mean, right?\nNope, Paul Wall is dope\nAnd so's Bubba, so BLALALALAPFFTTTTT\nB-b-b-b-b-but, I don't compete with nobody\nI just go hard, do the rope-a-dope Ali\nShuffle, and dance around my opponents, do donuts\nSometime's I just play possom, Like I'm asleep that's awesome\nI'm like a sleeping Giant, and when I awake I'm like Dre\nI just jump from outta nowhere and bite Prey\nSink my teeth in him and fill him, full of poison\nAnd make a noise like snake before I kill him\nAnd let him know that I just don't feel him\nAnd smack him with the backward E, the Eminem emblem\nAlways thought if you was gonna murder somebody you should face em\nTell em why, look them dead in the eye, then waste em\nAnd the dark shall emerge from the fiery depths of hell\nAnd swallow the shell of the hollow who dwell\nAnd the shadows of all who are willing to sell\nTheir souls, for this rap game, and it g-g-goes\n123, 123, 123, that ain't the hook, now follow me\nThere's nothing else for me to say, my public adores me\nEverybody bores me, they're just so corny\nSo at night before I sleep, I look in the mirror\nThe mirror grows lips and it whispers \"Come nearer\"\n\n\nMy Darling, I don't ever want you to leave me\nMy Darling, you and me were meant to be together\nMy Darling, And if I cannot have you, no one can, you're my\nMy Darling, cause I possess your soul, your mind, your heart and your body\n\nI don't ever want you to leave me\nMy Darling, you and me were meant to be together\nMy Darling, And if I cannot have you, no one can, you're my\nMy Darling, cause I possess your soul, your mind, your heart and your body\n\n\n\"Shady, I know you're in there, so where? Come here\nTalk to me, sit here, pull up a chair\nWhy don't you cut your hair? Hahahahaha\nDye it back, come on, try it\" AHHHHHHHHH\nNo, I told you, leave me the fuck alone will you?\n\"But I'm here to rebuild you\", But I already killed you!\n\"But Shady, we were meant for eachother\nThink about your mother\", yeah so what of her?\n\"Well think about what she did to you and your little brother\nAll them foster homes...\", fuck you motherfucker!\nI had you beat \"No I was playin' possom, remember?\nI let you watch your little girls blossom\nI gave you enough time, your souls mine\nI'm taking it back\", you fucking bitch WHY!\n\"Because I love you, look a little closer\nIsn't that us on that poster? haha\"\n\n\nMy Darling, I don't ever want you to leave me\nMy Darling, you and me were meant to be together\nMy Darling, and if I cannot have you, no one can, you're my\nMy Darling, cause I possess your soul, your mind, your heart and your body\n\nI don't ever want you to leave me\nMy Darling, you and me were meant to be together\nMy Darling, and if I cannot have you, no one can, you're my\nMy Darling, cause I possess your soul, your mind, your heart and your body\n\n\n\"Shady, listen... \"SHADY!\", you hear that?\nThey're screaming for you, I can bring your career back\"\nBut I don't want it back! \"Yes you do...\"\nNo I don't! \"Yes you do, you're gonna regret it later!\"\nNo I won't! \"I'ma get Dre on the phone, I'll just call the doctor\"\nGo ahead, I already talked to, Dre yesterday\n\"Well I got him on the phone right now!\"\nYou're lying, \"yo slim\", HOW, WHY NOW!\nWhatup Dre? \"Check this out Slim, I gotta talk to ya\nI don't know, it just seems every since you got off ya\nDrugs, you became a lot softer\"\nBut Dre, all Shady is is a bottle of hair bleach and vodka\n\"Well, just think about it Slim, I'm here\nJust hit me back, and let me know what's up\"\nFuck this mirror! AHHHHHHH\n\"I'm not in the mirror, I'm inside you, let me guide you\"\nFuck you, die you son of a bitch\n\"Put the gun down\", BYE BYE!\nOk I'm still alive, \"So am I too!\nYou can't kill a spirit, even if you tried to\nHaha, you sold your soul to me, need I remind you?\nYou remember that night you, prayed to god\nYou'd give anything to get a record deal, well Dre signed you\nThis is what you wanted your whole life Marshall, right through\nLook at this house, look at these cars, I'm so nice, wooo!\nOh, but you didn't know, fame has a price too\nThat you're just now seeing the downside to\nLose your best friend from highschool, your wife too\nAin't even sure if your kids like you\nCome off tour, can't even sleep at night without Nyquill\nBecome a valium addict, start a rehab cycle\nBut together we can break the cycle\nMarshall...\" WHAT! \"no one's gonna love you like I do!\"\n\n\nMy Darling, I don't ever want you to leave me\nMy Darling, you and me were meant to be together\nMy Darling, and if I cannot have you, no one can, you're my\nMy Darling, cause I possess your soul, your mind, your heart and your body\n\nI don't ever want you to leave me\nMy Darling, you and me were meant to be together\nMy Darling, and if I cannot have you, no one can, you're my\nMy Darling, cause I possess your soul, your mind, your heart and your body\n\nI said, I don't ever want you to leave me\nMy Darling, you and me were meant to be together\nMy Darling, and if I cannot have you, no one can, you're my\nMy Darling, cause I possess your soul, your mind, your heart and your body"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Evil Deeds", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Lord, please forgive me for what I do\nFor I know not what I've done\n\n\nFather, please forgive me for I know not what I do\nI just never had the chance to ever meet you\nTherefore I did not know that I would grow to be\nMy mother's evil seed and do these evil deeds\n\n\nMomma had a baby and it's head popped off (head popped off\nHead popped off, head popped off, head popped off, head popped off)\nMy momma don't want me the next thing I know I'm gettin' dropped off\n(gettin' dropped off, gettin' dropped off, gettin' dropped off, gettin' dropped off)\nRing ring ring on the door bell and the next door neighbors on their front porch\n(their front porch, their front porch, their front porch, their front porch)\nBut they didn't want me neither so they left me on someone else's lawn\n(else's lawn, else's lawn, else's lawn) 'til somebody finally took me in\nMy Great Aunt and Uncle, Edna 'n Charles (Edna 'n Charles\nEdna 'n Charles, Edna 'n Charles, Edna 'n Charles)\nThey were the ones who were left in charge\nMy elementary they ganged up on me and sang this song\n(sang this song, sang this song, sang this song, sang this song)\nIt went a little something like\nMary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb\nDebbie had a Satan spawn, Satan spawn\nMomma why do they keep saying this I just don't understand, understand\nAnd by the way, where's my daaaaaaaaaaad?\n\n\n\n\nPredominantly, predominantly, everything's always predominantly\nPredominantly white, predominantly black, but what about me\nWhere does that leave me? Well I guess that I'm between predominantly\nBoth of 'em, I think if I hear that fuckin' word again I'mma scream\nWhile I'm projectile vomiting, what do I look like, a comedian to you?\nDo you think that I'm kidding? What do I look like some kind of idi-\nWait a minute, shit, don't answer that - why am I so misunderstood?\nWhy do I go through so much bullshit, it's such bullshit, it's tush mull bisch\nWoe is me, there goes poor Marshall again whinin about his millions\nAnd his mansion and his sorrow he's always drownin' in\nFrom the dad he never had, and how his childhood was so bad\nAnd how his mom was a dope addict, and his ex-wife how they go at it\nMan I'd hate to have it, as bad as that Mr. Mathers, claims he had it\nI can't imagine it, that little rich poor white bastard\nNeeds to take some of that cash out the bank and take a bath in it\nMan if I only had half of it\nShit, if you only knew the half of it\n\n\n\n\nEvil deeds, while I plant these evil seeds\nPlease release me from these demons\nI never had any of this shit planned, mom, please believe\nI don't wanna be Satan's spawn, never got the chance to say I'm sorry\nNow look at all the pain I caused\nDear Santa Claus, why you not comin' this year again?\nWhat did I do that was so bad to deserve this?\nEverything could have been so perfect\nBut life ain't a fairytale, I'm about to be hoisted up in the air\nForty feet below me, there's people everywhere\nI don't even know why they feel like they know me cause I'm in this ferris wheel\nAnd all I wanna do is go to the mall and take Hailie on the carousel\nWithout this crowd everywhere I go, but life is like a merry-go-round\nHere we go now, doe-se-doe now, curtains up, the show must go\nNow ring around the rosie, the show's over, you can all go home now\nBut the curtain just don't close for me, this ain't how fame is supposed to be\nWhere's the switch I could just turn off and on, this ain't what I chose to be\nSo please God, give me the strength to have what it takes to carry on\n'til I pass 50 back the baton, the camera's on, my soul is gone"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Curtains Up (Encore Version)", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Still on?\r\nYo, is the mic on?\r\nCheck, check, check\r\nAlright, let's do it\r\nLet's go, come on\r\n(Eminem, Eminem, Eminem)"},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Hailie's Song", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "Yo, I can't sing but\nI feel like singin'\nI wanna fuckin' sing\n'Cause I'm happy\n\nYeah, I'm happy\nHa Ha\nI got my baby back\nYo, check it out\n\n\nSome days I sit starin' out the window\nWatchin' this world pass me by\nSometimes I think there's nothin' to live for\nI almost break down and cry\n\nSometimes I think I'm crazy\nI'm crazy, oh, so crazy\nWhy am I here, am I just wasting my time?\n\nBut then I see my baby\nSuddenly I'm not crazy\nIt all makes sense when I look into her eyes\n\n\nSometimes it feels like the world's on my shoulders\nEveryone's leanin' on me\n'Cause sometimes it feels like the world's almost over\nBut then she comes back to me\n\n\nMy baby girl  keeps gettin' older\nI watch her grow up with pride\nPeople make jokes 'cause they don't understand me\nThey just don't see my real side\n\nI act like shit don't phase me,\nInside it drives me crazy\nMy insecurities could eat me alive\n\nBut then I see my baby\nSuddenly I'm not crazy\nIt all makes sense when I look into her eyes, oh, no.\n\n\nSometimes it feels like the world's on my shoulders\nEveryone's leanin' on me\n'Cause sometimes it feels like the world's almost over\nBut then she comes back to me\n\n\nMan, if I could sing, I'd keep singing this song to my daughter\nIf I could hit the notes, I'd blow something as long as my father\nTo show her how I feel about her, how proud I am that I got her\nGod, I'm a daddy, I'm so glad that her mom didn't \nNow you probably get this picture from my public persona\nThat I'm a pistol-packing drug-addict who bags on his mama,\nBut I wanna just take this time out to be perfectly honest\n'Cause there's a lot of shit I keep bottled that hurts deep inside o' my soul,\nAnd just know that I grow colder the older I grow\nThis boulder on my shoulder gets heavy and harder to hold\nAnd this load is like the weight of the world\nAnd I think my neck is breaking.\nShould I just give up or try to live up to these expectations?\nNow look, I love my daughter more than life in itself,\nBut I got a wife that's determined to make my life livin' hell\nBut I handle it well, given the circumstances I'm dealt\nSo many chances, man, it's too bad, could've had someone else\nBut the years that I've wasted are nothing to the tears that I've tasted\nSo here's what I'm facin':\n3 felonies, 6 years of probation\nI've went to jail for this woman,\nI've been to bat for this woman\nI've taken bats to people's backs, bent over backwards for this woman\nMan, I should've seen it comin', what'd I stick my penis up in?\nWould've ripped the pre-nup up if I'd seen what she was fuckin'\nBut fuck it, it's over, there's no more reason to cry no more\nI got my baby, baby the only lady that I adore, Hailie\nSo sayonara, try tomorrow, nice to know ya\nMy baby's travelled back to the arms of her rightful owner\nAnd suddenly it seems like my shoulder blades have just shifted\nIt's like the greatest gift you can get\nThe weight has been lifted\n\n\nAnd now it don't feel like the world's on my shoulders\nEveryone's leanin' on me\n'Cause my baby knows that her daddy's a soldier\nNothin' can take her from me\n\n\nWoo!\nI told you I can't sing\nOh well, I tried\nHailie, 'member when I said\nIf you ever need anything, daddy will be right there?\nGuess what?\nDaddy's here\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere baby\nI love you!"},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Paul Rosenberg (Skit)", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "Em, it's Paul.\r\nListen, Joel just called me and he said you're in the fucking back behind his studio,\r\nshooting your gun off in the air like it's a shooting range.\r\nI told you not to fucking bring your gun around, like an idiot, outside of your home.\r\nYou're gonna get yourself in trouble.\r\nDon't bring your gun outside of your home you can't carry it on you.\r\nLeave your fuckin gun at home."},
{"year": "2000", "title": "Bitch Please II", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "Yeah whattup Detroit?\n\nNu-uh, nu-uh nuh-no he didn't!\nAhhh! They didn't do it again,\nwhat-what, what-what?\nDid you shit on these niggaz two times Dr. Dre?\n\nOh fo' sho'!\n\nUh-uh, naw, ya smell that?\nThis is special right here\nWhat-what, what-what-what?\nYeah, it's a toast to the boogie baby\nUhh, to the boogie-oogie-oogie\nYeah, y'know! What's crackin Dre?\n\n\nJust let me lay back and kick some mo' simplistic pimp shit\non Slim's shit and start riots like Limp Bizkit (Limp Bizkit)\nThrow on 'Guilty Conscience' at concerts\nand watch mosh pits til motherfuckers knock each other unconcious\n(Watch out now!) Some of these crowds that Slim draws\nis rowdy as Crenshaw Boulevard when it's packed and fulla cars\nSome of these crowds me and Snoop draw +IS+ niggaz from Crenshaw\nfrom Long Beach to South Central \n Whoa, not these niggaz again\nThese grown-ass ignorant men with hair-triggers again\n(Hehe) You and what army could harm me?\nD-R-E and Shady, with Doggy from Long Beach\n(East-syde!) Came a long way, to makin these songs play\nIt'll be a wrong move, to stare at me the wrong way\nI got a long uz', and I carry it all day\n(Blaow!) Sometimes it's like a nightmare, just bein Andre,\nbut I..\n\n\nsomehow, someway - tell 'em, nigga\nYou know about Dogg-ay (Snoop Dogg)\nNow let me cut these niggaz up and show em where da fuck I'm comin from\nI get the party crackin from the shit that I be spittin son\nHit-and-run, get it done, get the funds, split and run\nGot about fifty guns, and I love all of 'em the same - bang bang!\nDamn baby girl what's your name?\nI forgot - what'd you say it was? Damn a nigga buzzed\nHangin in the club, with my nephew Eminem\n(Whassup Slim?) Whattup cuz? (Whattup Snoop?)\nThe Great White American Hope, done hooked up\nwith the King of the motherfuckin West coast, bay-bayy!\n\n\n\nAnd you don't really wanna fuck, with me\nOnly nigga that I trust, is me\nFuck around and make me bust, this heat\n That's, the devil, they always wanna dance\n\n\nI'm the Head Nigga In Charge, I'm watchin you move\nYou're found dead in your garage, with ten o'clock news coverage\nGotta love it, cause I expose the facade\nYour little lungs is too small to hotbox with God\nAll jokes aside, come bounce with us\nStandin over you with a twelve gauge, about to bust\nIt's like ashes to ashes and dust to dust\nI might leave in the bodybag, but never in cuffs\nSo who do you trust? They just not rugged enough\nWhen things get rough I'm in the club shootin with Puff\nBitch, please - you must have a mental disease\nAssume the position and get back down on your knees - c'mon\n\n\n\n\nAwww naww, big Slim Dogg\nEighty pound balls, dick six inch long\nBack up, in the, heezy BAY-BAY\nHe's Sha-day!\n\n\nHe's so cra-zay!\n\n\nHahaha! Gimme the mic, let me recite, 'til Timothy White\npickets outside the Interscope offices every night\nWhat if he's right? I'm just a criminal, makin a living\noff of the world's misery - what in the world gives me the right\nto say what I like, and walk around flippin the bird\nLivin the urban life, like a white kid from the 'burbs\nDreamin at night of screamin at mom, schemin to leave\nRun away from home and grow to be as evil as me\nI just want you all to notice me and people to see\nthat somewhere deep down, there's a decent human being in me\nIt just can't be found, so the reason you've been seeing this me\nis cause this is me now, the recent dude who's being this mean\nSo when you see me, dressin up like a nerd on TV\nor heard the CD usin the fag word so freely\nit's just me being me, here want me to tone it down?\n Suck my fuckin dick, you faggot\nYou happy now? Look here\n\n\nI start some trouble everywhere that I go (that I go)\nAsk the bouncers in the club cause they know (cause they know)\nI start some shit they throw me out the back do' (the back do')\nCome back and shoot the club up with a fo'-fo' (a fo'-fo')\n\n\n\n\n2001 and forever\nSlim Shady, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, X to the Z, Nate Dogg\nC'mon, yeah!!"},
{"year": "2000", "title": "Paul (Skit)", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "Em... what's going on, it's Paul...\nUmm... Dre gave me a copy of the new album and I just...\n\nFuck it."},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Role Model", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "Okay, I'm going to attempt to drown myself\nYou can try this at home\nYou can be just like me\nMic check one two, we recording?\n\nI'm cancerous so when I diss you wouldn't want to answer this\nIf you responded back with a battle rap you wrote for Canibus\nI strangle you to death then I choke you again\nAnd break your fucking legs\n'Til your bones poke through your skin\nYou beef with me, I'mma even the score equally\nTake you on Jerry Springer and beat your ass legally\nI get too blunted off of funny home grown, \u2018cause when I smoke out I hit the trees harder than Sonny Bono (oh no!)\nSo if I said I never did drugs, that would mean I lie and get fucked more than the President does\nHilary Clinton tried to slap me and call me a pervert\nI ripped her fucking tonsils out and fed her sherbet (bitch!)\nMy nerves hurt, and lately I'm on edge\nGrabbed Vanilla Ice and ripped out his blond dreads (Fuck you!)\nEvery girl I ever went out with has gone les\nFollow me and do exactly what the song says\nSmoke weed, take pills, drop out of school, kill people\nAnd drink, jump behind the wheel like it was still legal\nI'm dumb enough to walk in a store and steal\nSo I'm dumb enough to ask for a date with Lauryn Hill\nSome people only see that I'm white, ignorin' skill\nCause I stand out like a green hat with a orange bill\nBut I don't get pissed, y'all don't even see through the mist\nHow the fuck can I be white? I don't even exist\nI get a clean shave, bathe, go to a rave\nDie from an overdose and dig myself up out of my grave\nMy middle finger won't go down, how do I wave?\nAnd this is how I'm supposed to teach kids how to behave?\n\nNow follow me and do exactly what you see\nDon't you want to grow up to be just like me?\nI slap women and eat shrooms then O.D.\nNow don't you want to grow up to be just like me?\n\nMe and Marcus Allen went over to see Nicole\nWhen we heard a knock at the door, must have been Ron Gold\nJumped behind the door, put the orgy on hold\nKilled them both and smeared blood in a white Bronco\nMy mind won't work if my spine don't jerk\nI slapped Garth Brooks out of his rhinestone shirt\nI'm not a player, just a ill rhyme sayer\nThat'll spray a aerosol can up at the ozone layer\nMy rap style's warped\nI'm running out the morgue with your dead grandmother's corpse to throw it on your porch\nJumped in a Chickenhawk cartoon with a cape on\nAnd beat up Foghorn Leghorn with an acorn\nI'm about as normal as Norman Bates with deformative traits\nA premature birth that was four minutes late\nMother, are you there? I love you\nI never meant to hit you over the head with that shovel\nWill someone please explain to my brain that I just severed a main vein with a chainsaw and I'm in pain?\nI take a breather and sigh, either I'm high or I'm nuts\nCause if you ain't tilting this room, neither am I\nSo when you see your mom with a thermometer shoved in her ass, then it probably is obvious I got it on with her\nCause when I drop this solo shit, it's over with\nI bought Cage's tape, opened it and dubbed over it\n\nI came to the club drunk with a fake ID\nDon't you want to grow up to be just like me?\nI've been with 10 women who got HIV\nNow don't you want to grow up to be just like me?\nI got genital warts and it burns when I pee\nDon't you want to grow up to be just like me?\nI tie a rope around my penis and jump from a tree\nYou probably want to grow up to be just like me"},
{"year": "1998", "title": "If I Had...", "album": "\"Slim Shady EP\" (1998)", "lyrics": "Life.. by Marshall Mathers\nWhat is life?\nLife is like a big obstacle\nput in front of your optical to slow you down\nAnd everytime you think you gotten past it\nit's gonna come back around and tackle you to the damn ground\nWhat are friends?\nFriends are people that you think are your friends\nBut they really your enemies, with secret indentities\nand disguises, to hide they true colors\nSo just when you think you close enough to be brothers\nthey wanna come back and cut your throat when you ain't lookin\nWhat is money?\nMoney is what makes a man act funny\nMoney is the root of all evil\nMoney'll make them same friends come back around\nswearing that they was always down\nWhat is life?\nI'm tired of life\nI'm tired of backstabbing ass snakes with friendly grins\nI'm tired of committing so many sins\nTired of always giving in when this bottle of Henny wins\nTired of never having any ends\nTired of having skinny friends hooked on crack and mini-thins\nI'm tired of this DJ playing YOUR shit when he spins\nTired of not having a deal\nTired of having to deal with the bullshit without grabbing the steel\nTired of drowning in my sorrow\nTired of having to borrow a dollar for gas to start my Monte Carlo\nI'm tired of motherfuckers spraying shit and dartin off\nI'm tired of jobs startin off at five fifty an hour\nthen this boss wanders why I'm smartin off\nI'm tired of being fired everytime I fart and cough\nTired of having to work as a gas station clerk\nfor this jerk breathing down my neck driving me bezerk\nI'm tired of using plastic silverware\nTired of working in Building Square\nTired of not being a millionaire\n\nBut if I had a million dollars\nI'd buy a damn brewery, and turn the planet into alcoholics\nIf I had a magic wand, I'd make the world suck my dick\nwithout a condom on, while I'm on the john\nIf I had a million bucks\nit wouldn't be enough, because I'd still be out\nrobbing armored trucks\nIf I had one wish\nI would ask for a big enough ass for the whole world to kiss\n\nI'm tired of being white trash, broke and always poor\nTired of taking pop bottles back to the party store\nI'm tired of not having a phone\nTired of not having a home to have one in if I did have it on\nTired of not driving a BM\nTired of not working at GM, tired of wanting to be him\nTired of not sleeping without a Tylenol PM\nTired of not performing in a packed coliseum\nTired of not being on tour\nTired of fucking the same blonde whore after work\nin the back of a Contour\nI'm tired of faking knots with a stack of ones\nHaving a lack of funds and resorting back to guns\nTired of being stared at\nI'm tired of wearing the same damn Nike Air hat\nTired of stepping in clubs wearing the same pair of Lugz\nTired of people saying they're tired of hearing me rap about drugs\nTired of other rappers who ain't bringin half the skill as me\nsaying they wasn't feeling me on \"Nobody's As Ill As Me\"\nI'm tired of radio stations telling fibs\nTired of J-L-B saying \"Where Hip-Hop Lives\"\n\nBut if I had a million dollars\nI'd buy a damn brewery, and turn the planet into alcoholics\nIf I had a magic wand, I'd make the world suck my dick\nwithout a condom on, while I'm on the john\nIf I had a million bucks\nit wouldn't be enough, because I'd still be out\nrobbing armored trucks\nIf I had one wish\nI would ask for a big enough ass for the whole world to kiss\n\nYou know what I'm saying?\nI'm tired of all of this bullshit\nTelling me to be positive\nHow'm I 'sposed to be positive when I don't see shit positive?\nKnow what I'm sayin?\nI rap about shit around me, shit I see\nKnow what I'm sayin? Right now I'm tired of everything\nTired of all this player hating that's going on in my own city\nCan't get no airplay, you know what I'm sayin?\nBut ey, it's cool though, you know what I'm sayin?\nJust fed up\nThat's my word"},
{"year": "1996", "title": "Searchin'", "album": "\"Infinite\" (1996)", "lyrics": "Ain't no one special, special like you \nI been searching, but your the one I want in my life baby \n\n\nI'm reminiscing on your tenderness and the snuggling and teasing\nMissing what I remember, kissing and hugging and squeezing\nBugging and weezing, I'm having trouble when breathing\nIt's even tougher when sleeping\nBut there's a couple of reasons that I'm suffering and grieving\nFor loving and leaving, you all I'm thinking of in the evening\nYou got my knees buckling and weakening\nThoughts of nothing but freaking that I'm struggling to keep in\nAnd interrupt when I'm speaking\nI got some game that I'm preparing to run\nThe way your lips sparkle and glare in the sun\nYou got your hair in a bun, no matter what you're wearing you stun\nCause your comparing to none, I wanna share in the fun\nI feel a passionate lust when I'm imagining just us alone at last with a \ntouch \nI see you grasping to trust, but my intentions are good\nThe seed is passing in dust\nI'm not asking to rush and answer immediately\nI just wanna be there for you and you to be there for me\nIf you agree to repeat after me, I Love You (I love you baby)\nCause I just need you to see, how much I'm eager to be\nYour man legally wed, your love's keeping me fed\nThis is easily said, so you can lead or be led\nIf you care to be down cause ain't nobody Like you no where to be found\n\n\n\nI been searching, but your the one I want in my life baby \n\n\nBaby it's all on you, it's you I call on boo\nLet's set a day up so you can fall on through\nWe'll take a spin in a Lexus you can chill for dinner and breakfast\nLong enough to see how this gentleman sex'es\nWe'll start it out with caviar, Don Parigne\nAnd then when it's a fact we are warm, carry on\nWe'll take it slow, see nobody will hurry things\nI got the herbs the Bacardi and Hurricane\nIf Daiquiris are in debate and not your thing that day\nIt's still all right cause I got Minute Maid and Tangeray\nYour an incredible one that's rare, in bed with edible underwear\nYou look impeccable, nothing compares\nI dream of freaking you, the women that will speak it too so\nIt seems that there is not an end to things that we can do so\nNow we all set to play, only thing left to say is\nWhen you step away, baby but don't forget the Neglicie\n\n\n\nI been searching, but your the one I want in my life baby \nAin't no one special, special like you"},
{"year": "1996", "title": "Never 2 Far", "album": "\"Infinite\" (1996)", "lyrics": "Hey what up man?\nWhat up dog?\nYa heard?\nChillen, cold as hell\nYes it is, hey Busta didn't come here did he?\nNo, hey look, you got fifteen cent?\nNah, I got just enough to get on the bus, I'm broke\nWe gotta go to the store alright man quick cause I'm short\nYeah, we gonna have enough time to go to the store?\nNah, look..\nYou should just, how much you got there?\nI only got 75, I'm sure I got a dollar know what I mean..\nJust throw it in there they ain't gonna know\nYou know what look, I'm sick of taking this damn bus everywhere man\nYou gotta make some moves or something\nI know look, I'm trying to get rich,\nI got a baby on the way, I don't even got a car,\nyou know what I'm saying?\nI still stay with my moms, 21 and still with my moms\nLook hey, we gotta make some hit records or something,\nyou know what I'm saying? Cause I'm tired of being broke\n\n\nCause all I do is yearn a life without a concern\nAnd dream of having a turn to earn money to burn\nMapping out my strategies to get rich huh\nMy desire is like a scratch that needs to get itched huh\nCause man I live in the D, this shit ain't given for free\nNothing's different to me, so what, it's easy to see\nI'll be the prisoner to flee, all of this misery\nI'm not wishing to be another fish in the sea\nBut just an MC, so listen to me, but if you disagree\nYou missing the key, you ain't even in the brisk of the tea\nUnconditionally my aspects to cash checks\nMy objects were never to swab decks\nIt's up to you the decision is yours\nIf what you vision is tours, or a mission less course\nWhen shit is in the stores, cause you can be a star\n\n\nNo matter wherever you are, you're never too far\nFrom revenue huh, cause you can be king\nYou can rule the world, you can do anything\nIt's on you baby, cause you can be a star\nNo matter wherever you are, you're never too far\nFrom revenue huh, cause you can be king\nYou can rule the world, you can do anything\nIt's on you baby, cause you can be a star\nNo matter wherever you are, you're never too far\nFrom revenue huh\n\nYou know what I'm saying, see what I'm talking about man?\nCause that's it\nYeah\nA million dollars ain't even that far away man\nYo we got to get the money man, I can't be broke for the rest of my life\nYeah I hear what your saying,\nlook there's got to be something better, you know what I'm saying?\nI can't live like this for the rest of my life man,\nbumming rides everywhere I go\nYeah, what's up with Lexus' and Land cruisers'?\n\n\nYo I'm not about to chance it and dismiss handling business\nI'm canceling Christmas to gamble and risk this\nFinancial interest is the matter at hand\nI got an adequate plan for stab at a grand\nI grab what I can and do what I must\nPursue what I lust, it's true that I just choose\nThe few that I trust, thems the people that I still got\nFuck with gangsta fill pot, get your grill shot\nThe 5 Elemantz for life my man Thyme\nProof, Kyu and Denaun, we move through into time\nMy crews true and divine, we never fronted\nWe just wanted to be funded, and live to be a hundred\nInstead of hunted or being wanted as fugitives\nIt's all about a man planning what his future is\nWhat he can do for his to be a star\n\n\nNo matter wherever you are, you're never too far\nFrom revenue huh, cause you can be king\nYou can rule the world, you can do anything\nIt's on you baby, cause you can be a star\nNo matter wherever you are, you're never too far\nFrom revenue huh, cause you can be king\nYou can rule the world, you can do anything\nIt's on you baby, cause you can be a star\nNo matter wherever you are, you're never too far\nFrom revenue huh\n\nThat's what I'm talking about, I'm not trying to be the player,\nI'm trying to be the man, I'm want to be President\nYo forgot that President man I'm trying to be king,\nmaking dead presidents, you know what I'm saying?\nYeah\nGetting money anytime I want owning my own businesses and all that,\nyou know what I'm saying?\nYeah, I'm trying to be a millionare man, hahaha, but don't all you know\nYou only live once\nninety six baby"},
{"year": "1996", "title": "Open Mic", "album": "\"Infinite\" (1996)", "lyrics": "Hey yo, what's up man? Hey, yo you been here all day man\nYa'll been here every weekend man, \nI don't ever get a chance to rap first man!\nThat's cause you whack!\nWhat?!? I ain't whack nigga, I got some raps for all ya'll\nNigga my raps fresh, I'ma bust my raps first, \nyou can bust yours after me if you want to\nNo no man, I'm going first, \nI'm getting tired of everybody wanted to go first man\nYou always rap first, \nI'm rapping I don't care what none of ya'll say, \nI'm fresh, I'm fresh\n\n\nAyo, who the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\nPoint him out man I wanna know\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\n(scratched in) I wanna know, I wanna know\nI said who the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\nPoint him out bitch I wanna know\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\n(scratched in) I wanna know, I wanna know\n\n\nI'll have you taken back to Christ when you sacrifice\nThe way you acting slice when I tear your back with knifes\nJacking life's of MC's, now I'm set to launch a plan\nFor blowing up the stage with illegal contraband\nA stomped your man so unless you want what he got\nYou better set the mic down, I'm steaming like a teapot\nI'll make the tea hot, people get in my face and ask\nIf I wanna battle, then I chase them in a Jason mask\nIt's an amazing task to battle with success\nI never gave a fuck, now I give a fuck less\nAnd in a slug fest I get physical like physicians\nInvisible like magicians with mystical mic traditions\nWicked wizardry, like a sorcerer and no remorse for you\nWhen I torture you throughout the course of my orchestra\nSo feel the force of my spiritual images\nSlicing up an enemy's appendages till he hemorrhages\nMy skin itches every time a rapper recites\nAnd when he's through with his verse, I'm all covered in flea bites\nYou wanna see fights I got a match for you\nYou couldn't flip shit playing in toilets with a spatula\n\n\nAyo, who the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\nPoint him out man I wanna know\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\n(scratched in) I wanna know, I wanna know\nAyo, who the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\nPoint him out bitch I wanna know\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\n(scratched in) I wanna know, I wanna know\n\n\nYou bitches get a hysterectomy disrespecting me\nYou wanna feel the full effect of me, hand a tech to me\nIntellectually superior, I'll make the whack wearier\nInferior, deterior rate, like bacteria\nMaterially, killing serially, clearly you'll see\nHow much in fear when u hear me you'll be\nShiver and shake, quiver and quake\nBite a rhyme and rip it off then stiffer and ache, whither and break\nYou slithering snake, gibbering fake, fibbering flake\nI'll twist you into a different shape\nAnd toss you in Michigan Lake, for fisherman sake\nIf this is a dream you'd wish you can wake\nEvery dis you can take, personal\nWe ain't friends trying to make amends\nIf you ain't ever stole a gate you can take a fence\nI make intense masterpieces and smash to pieces\nYour last releases, you bad diseases, that's the reason\nI'm showing you the proper way to operate a mic\nSo pass it like a hot potato\nI've never been less than clever and fresh\nSevering flesh of fools who never impressed I can confess\n\n\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\nPoint him out man I wanna know\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\n(scratched in) I wanna know, I wanna know\nAyo, who the fuck passed you the mic man and said that you can flow?\nPoint him out bitch I wanna know\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and then said that you can flow?\n(scratched in) I wanna know, I wanna know\nWhhhooo the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\nPoint him out!! I wanna know\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\n(scratched in) I wanna know, I wanna know\nAyo let me get that mic man\u00c5\nWho the fuck passed you the mic and said that you can flow?\nWho the fuck passed you the mic, who the fuck passed you the mic!!\nI got the rhymes bitch, I'll kick that shit"},
{"year": "2000", "title": "I'm Back", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "That's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm Back) \nI'm Back (I'm Back) (SLIM SHADY!) I'm Back\n\n\nI murder a rhyme one word at a time\nYou never, heard of a mind as perverted as mine\nYou better, get rid of that nine, it ain't gonna help\nWhat good's it gonna do against a man that strangles himself?\nI'm waitin for hell like hell shit I'm anxious as hell\nManson, you're safe in that cell, be thankful it's jail\nI used to be my mommy's little angel at twelve\nThirteen I was puttin shells in a gauge on a shelf\nI used to, get punked and bullied on my block\n'til I cut a kitten's head off and stuck it in this kid's mailbox\n(\"Mom! MOM!\") I used to give a - fuck, now I could give a fuck less\nWhat do I think of suc-cess? It sucks, too much press I'm stressed\nToo much stares two breasts, too upset\nIt's just too much mess, I guess I must just blew up quick (yes)\nGrew up quick (no) was raised right\nWhatever you say is wrong, whatever I say is right\nYou think of my name now whenever you say, \"Hi\"\nBecame a commodity because I'm W-H-I-\n-T-E, cuz MTV was so friendly to me\nCan't wait 'til Kim sees me\nNow is it worth it? Look at my life, how is it perfect?\nRead my lips bitch, what, my mouth isn't workin?\nYou hear this finger? Oh it's upside down\nHere, let me turn this motherfucker up right now\n\n\n\n\nI take each individual degenerate's head and reach into it\njust to see if he's influenced by me if he listens to music\nAnd if he feeds into this shit he's an innocent victim\nand becomes a puppet on the string of my tennis shoe \n My name is Slim Shady\nI been crazy way before radio didn't play me\nThe sensational \nWith Ken Kaniff, who just finds the men edible\nIt's Ken Kaniff on the, internet\nTryin to, lure your kids with him, into bed\nIt's a, sick world we live in these days\n\"Slim for Pete's sakes put down Christopher Reeve's legs!\"\nGeez, you guys are so sensitive\n\"Slim it's a touchy subject, try and just don't mention it\"\nMind with no sense in it, fried to get so frenetic\nwhose eyes get so squinted, I'm blind from smokin 'em\nwith my windows tinted, with nine limos rented\nDoin lines of coke in 'em, with a bunch of guys hoppin out \nall high and indo scented (inhales, exhales)\nAnd that's where I get my name from, that's why they call me\n\n\n\n\nI take seven (kids) from (Columbine), stand 'em all in line\nAdd an AK-47, a revolver, a nine\na Mack-11 and it oughta solve the problem of mine\nand that's a whole school of bullies shot up all at one time\nCause (I'mmmm) Shady, they call me as crazy\nas the world was over this whole Y2K thing\nAnd by the way, N'Sync, why do they sing?\nAm I the only one who realizes they stink?\nShould I dye my hair pink and care what y'all think?\nLip sync and buy a bigger size of earrings?\nIt's why I tend to block out when I hear things\nCause all these fans screamin is makin my ears ring (AHHHH!!!)\nSo I just, throw up a middle finger and let it linger\nlonger than the rumor that I was stickin it to Christina\nCause if I ever stuck it to any singer in showbiz\nit'd be Jennifer Lopez, and Puffy you know this!\nI'm sorry Puff, but I don't give a fuck if this chick was my own mother\nI still fuck her with no rubber and cum inside her\nand have a son and a new brother at the same time\nand just say that it ain't mine, what's my name?\n\n\n\n\nGuess who's b-back, back\nGue-gue-guess who's back (Hi mom!)\n Guess who's back\n Gue  guess who's back\nD-12  Guess who's back\nGue, gue-gue-gue, guess who's back\nDr. Dre  Guess who's back\nBack back  back\n\nSlim Shady, 2001\nI'm blew out from this blunt (sighs) fuck"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Rock Bottom", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "A-yo!\nThis song is dedicated to all the happy people\nAll the happy people who have real nice lives\nAnd have no idea what it's like to be broke as fuck\n\n\nI feel like I'm walking a tight rope, without a circus net\nI'm popping percocets, I'm a nervous wreck\nI deserve respect; but I work a sweat for this worthless check\n'Bout to burst this tech, at somebody to reverse this debt\nMinimum wage got my adrenaline caged\nFull of venom and rage\nEspecially when I'm engaged\nAnd my daughter's down to her last diaper\nThat's got my ass hyper\nI pray that god answers, maybe I'll ask nicer\nWatching ballers while they're flossing in their pathfinders\nThese overnight stars becoming autograph signers\nWe all long to blow up and leave the past behind us\nAlong with the small fry's and average half pinters\nWhile player haters turn bitch like they have vaginas\n'Cause we see them dollar signs and let the cash blind us\nMoney'll brainwash you and leave your ass mindless\nWhile snakes slither in the grass spineless\n\n\nThat's Rock Bottom\nWhen this life makes you're mad enough to kill\nThat's Rock Bottom\nWhen you want something bad enough to steal\nThat's Rock Bottom\nWhen you feel like you've had it up to here\n'Cause you're mad enough to scream but you're sad enough to tear\n\n\nMy life is full of empty promises\nAnd broken dreams\nI'm hoping things will look up\nBut there ain't no job openings\nI feel discouraged, hungry and malnourished\nLiving in this house with no furnace, unfurnished\nAnd I'm sick of working dead end jobs with lame pay\nAnd I'm tired of being hired and fired the same day\nBut fuck it, if you know the rules to the game play\n'Cause when we die we know we're all going the same way\nIt's cool to be the player, but it sucks to be the fan\nWhen all you need is bucks to be the man\nPlus a luxury sedan\nToo comfortable and roomy in a six\nBut they threw me in the mix\nWith all these gloomy lunatics\nWho walk around depressed\nAnd smoke a pound of ses a day\nAnd yesterday went by so quick it seems like it was just today\nMy daughter wants to throw the ball but I'm too stressed to play\nLive half my life and throw the rest away\n\n\n\nThere's people that love me and people that hate me (yup)\nBut it's the evil that made me this backstabbing, deceitful, and shady\nI want the money, the women, the fortune, and the fame\nThat means I'll end up burning in hell scorching in flames\nThat means I'm stealing your checkbook and forging your name\nThere's lifetime bliss for eternal torture and pain\n'Cause right now I feel like I've just hit the rock bottom\nI got problems now everybody on my blocks got 'em (I'm done)\nI'm screaming like those two cops when 2pac shot 'em\nHolding two glocks, I hope your doors got new locks on 'em\nMy daughter's feet ain't got no shoes or socks on 'em\nAnd the rings you're wearing look like they got a few rocks on 'em\nAnd while you flaunt 'em I could be taking them to shops to pawn them\nI got a couple of rings and a brand new watch you want 'em?\n'Cause I never went gold off one song\nI'm running up on someone's lawn with guns drawn"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "As The World Turns", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "I don't know why this world keep turning\nRound and Round\nBut I wish it would stop, and let me off right now\n\nYes man\nAs the World Turns\nWe all experience things in life\nTrials and Tribulations\nThat we all must go through\nWhen someone wants to test us\nWhen someone tries our patience\n\n\nI hang with a bunch of hippies\nand wacky tobacco planters\nWho swallow lit roaches\nand light up like jack-o-lanterns\nOutsiders baby, and we suing the courts\nCause we're dope as fuck and only get a 2 in the source\nThey never should've booted me out of reform school\nDeformed fool,taking a shit in a warm pool\nThey threw me out the Ramada Inn\nI said it wasn't me, I got a twin (Oh my god its you! Not again!)\nIt all started when my mother took my bike away\nCause I murdered my guinea pig and stuck him in the microwave\nAfter that, It was straight to the 40 ouncers\nSlappin teachers, and jacking off in front of my counselors\nClass clown freshman, dressed like Les Nessman\nFuck the next lesson, I'll past the test guessing\nAnd all the other kids said Eminem's a dishead,\nHe'll never last, the only class he'll pass is phys ed\nMay be true, till I told this bitch in gym class\nThat she was too fat to swim laps, she needed Slim Fast (Who Me?)\nYeah bitch you so big you walked into big Tanny's and stepped on Jenny Craig\nShe picked me up to snap me like a skinny twig\nPut me in the headlock, then I thought of my guinea pig\nI felt the evilness and started transforming (RARRRR!)\nIt began storming, I heard a bunch of cheering fans swarming\nGrabbed that bitch by her hair\nDrag her across the ground\nAnd took her up to the highest diving board and tossed her down\nSorry coach, its too late to tell me stop\nWhile I drop this bitch face down and watch her belly flop\n\n\n\nAs the World Turns\nThese are the days of our lives\nThese are the things that we must go through\nDay by day\n\n\nWe drive around in million dollar sports cars\nWhile little kids hide this tape from their parents like bad report cards\nOutsiders, and we suing the courts\nCause we dope as fuck and only get a 2 in The Source\nHypochondriac, hanging out at the laundromat\nWhere all the raunchy fat white trashy blondes be at\nDressed like a sailor, standing by a pale of garbage\nIts almost dark and I'm still tryna nail a trailor park bitch\nI met a slut and said \"What up, its nice to meet ya\"\nI'd like to treat ya to a Faygo and a slice of pizza\nBut I'm broke as fuck and I don't get paid till the first of next month\nBut if you care to join me, I was bout to roll this next blunt\nBut I ain't got no weed, no phillies, or no papers\nPlus I'm a rapist and a repeated prison escapist\nSo gimme all your money\nAnd don't try nothing funny\nCause you know your stinking ass is too fat to try to outrun me\nI went to grab my gun\nThat's when her ass put it on me\nWit an uppercut and hit me with a basket of laundry\nI fell through the glass doors\nStarted causing a scene\nThen slid across the floor and flew right into a washing machine\nJumped up with a broken back\nThank god I was smocking crack all day\nAnd doped up off coke and smack\nAll I wanted to do was rape the bitch and snatch her purse\nNow I wanna kill her\nBut so I gotta catch her first\nRan through Rally's parkin lot and took a shortcut\nSaw the house she ran up in\nAnd shot her fucking porch up\nKicked the door down to murder this divorced slut\nLooked around the room\nThat's when I seen the bedroom door shut\nI know you're in there bitch! I got my gun cocked!\nYou might as well come out now\nShe said \"Come in, its unlocked!\"\nI walked in and all I smelled was Liz Claiborne\nAnd seen her spread across the bed naked watching gay porn\nShe said \"Come her big boy, lets get acquainted\"\nI turned around to run, twisted my ankle and sprained it\nShe came at me at full speed, nothing could stop her\nI shot her five times and every bullet bounced off her\nI started to beg \"No, please let go\"\nBut she swallowed my fucking leg whole like an egg roll\nWith one leg left, now I'm hoppin around crippled\nI grabbed my pocket knife and sliced off her right nipple\nJust trying to buy me some time, then I remembered this magic trick\nDen Den Den Den Den Den, Go go gadget dick!\nWhipped that shit out, and ain't no doubt about it\nIt hit the ground and caused an earthquake and power outage\nI shouted \"Now bitch, lets see who gets the best!\"\nStuffed that shit in crooked and fucked that fat slut to death (Ah!! Ah!)\nCome here bitch!\nCome here!\nTake this motherfucking dick!\nBitch, come here!\n\n\n\nAnd as we go along\nThroughout the days of our lives\nWe all face small obstacles and challenges everyday\nThat we must go through\nThese are the things that surround us through our atmosphere\nEvery day\nEvery single day the world keeps turning"},
{"year": "2000", "title": "Kill You", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "When I was just a little baby boy,\nmy momma used to tell me these crazy things\nShe used to tell me my daddy was an evil man,\nshe used to tell me he hated me\nBut then I got a little bit older\nand I realized, she was the crazy one\nBut there was nothing I could do or say to try to change it\ncause that's just the way she was\n\nThey said I can't rap about being broke no more\nThey ain't say I can't rap about coke no more\n(AH!) Slut, you think I won't choke no whore\n'til the vocal cords don't work in her throat no more?!\n(AH!) These motherfuckers are thinking I'm playing\nThinking I'm saying the shit cause I'm thinking it just to be saying it\n(AH!) Put your hands down bitch, I ain't gonna shoot you\nI'ma pull +YOU+ to this bullet, and put it through you\n(AH!) Shut up slut, you're causing too much chaos\nJust bend over and take it like a slut, OK Ma?\n\"Oh, now he's raping his own mother, abusing a whore,\nsnorting coke, and we gave him the Rolling Stone cover?\"\nYou god damn right BITCH, and now it's too late\nI'm triple platinum and tragedies happen in two states\nI invented violence, you vile venomous volatile bitches\nvain Vicadin, vrinnn Vrinnn, VRINNN! \nTexas Chainsaw, left his brains all\ndangling from his neck, while his head barely hangs on\nBlood, guts, guns, cuts\nKnives, lives, wives, nuns, sluts\n\n\n\nBitch I'ma kill you! You don't wanna fuck with me\nGirls neither - you ain't nothing but a slut to me\nBitch I'ma kill you! You ain't got the balls to beef\nWe ain't gonna never stop beefing I don't squash the beef\nYou better kill me! I'ma be another rapper dead\nfor popping off at the mouth with shit I shouldn't said\nBut when they kill me - I'm bringing the world with me\nBitches too! You ain't nothing but a girl to me\n.. I said you don't, wanna fuck with Shady (cause why?)\nCause Shady, will fucking kill you (ah-ha ha)\nI said you don't, wanna fuck with Shady (why?)\nCause Shady, will fucking kill you..\n\n\nBitch I'ma kill you! Like a murder weapon, I'ma conceal you\nin a closet with mildew, sheets, pillows and film you\nBuck with me, I been through hell, shut the hell up!\nI'm trying to develop these pictures of the Devil to sell 'em\nI ain't \"acid rap,\" but I rap on acid\nGot a new blow-up doll and just had a strap-on added\nWHOOPS! Is that a subliminal hint? NO!\nJust criminal intent to sodomize women again\nEminem offend? NO! Eminem insult\nAnd if you ever give in to him, you give him an impulse\nto do it again, THEN, if he does it again\nyou'll probably end up jumping out of something up on the 10th\n(Ah!) Bitch I'ma kill you, I ain't done this ain't the chorus\nI ain't even drug you in the woods yet to paint the forest\nA bloodstain is orange after you wash it three or four times\nin a tub but that's normal ain't it Norman?\nSerial killer hiding murder material\nin a cereal box on top of your stereo\nHere we go again, we're out of our medicine\nout of our minds, and we want in yours, let us in\n\n\n\n\nEh-heh, know why I say these things?\nCause lady's screams keep creeping in Shady's dreams\nAnd the way things seem, I shouldn't have to pay these shrinks\nthis eighty G's a week to say the same things TWEECE!\nTWICE? Whatever, I hate these things\nFuck shots! I hope the weed'll outweigh these drinks\nMotherfuckers want me to come on their radio shows\njust to argue with 'em cause their ratings stink?\nFUCK THAT! I'll choke radio announcer to bouncer\nfrom fat bitch to off seventy-thousand pounds of her\nfrom principal to the student body and counselor\nfrom in-school to before school to out of school\nI don't even believe in breathing I'm leaving air in your lungs\njust to hear you keep screaming for me to seep it\nOK, I'M READY TO GO PLAY\nI GOT THE MACHETE FROM O.J.\nI'M READY TO MAKE EVERYONE'S THROAT ACHE\nYou faggots keep egging me on\n'til I have you at knifepoint, then you beg me to stop?\nSHUT UP! Give me your hands and feet\nI said SHUT UP when I'm talking to you\nYOU HEAR ME? ANSWER ME!\n\n\n\n\n\nHa ha, I'm just playing ladies\nYou know I love you"},
{"year": "2002", "title": "White America", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "America, hahaha, we love you, how many people are proud to be citizens of this beautiful\r\nCountry of ours, the stripes and the stars for the rights that men have died for to protect,\r\nThe women and men who have broke their neck's for the freedom of speech the United States\r\nGovernment has sworn to uphold, or\r\n(Yo', I want everybody to listen to the words of this song) so we're told...\r\n\r\nI never would've dreamed in a million years I'd see,\r\nSo many motherfuckin' people who feel like me, who share the same views\r\nAnd the same exact beliefs, it's like a fuckin' army marchin' in back of me, so many lives I\r\nTouch, so much anger aimed, in no particular direction, just sprays and sprays, and straight\r\nThrough your radio waves it plays and plays, 'till it stays stuck in your head for days and\r\nDays, who would of thought, standing in this mirror bleachin' my hair, with some peroxide,\r\nReaching for a t-shirt to wear, that I would catapult to the forefront of rap like this, how\r\nCould I predict my words would have an impact like this, I must've struck a chord, with somebody\r\nUp in the office, cause congress keeps telling me I ain't causin' nuthin' but problems, and now\r\nThey're sayin' I'm in trouble with the government, I'm lovin' it, I shoveled shit all my life,\r\nAnd now I'm dumping it on...\r\n\r\n\r\nWhite America, I could be one of your kids, white America, little Eric looks just like this,\r\nWhite America, Erica loves my shit, I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get, white America, I\r\nCould be one of your kids, white America, little Eric looks just like this, white America, Erica\r\nLoves my shit, I go to TRL, look how many hugs I get...\r\n\r\nLook at these eyes, baby blue, baby just like yourself, if they were brown, Shady lose, Shady\r\nSits on the shelf, but Shady's cute, Shady knew, Shady's dimple's would help, make ladies swoon\r\nBaby, {ooh baby}, look at my sales, let's do the math, if I was black, I would've sold half, I\r\nAin't have to graduate from Lincoln high school to know that, but I could rap, so fuck school,\r\nI'm too cool to go back, gimme the mic, show me where the fuckin' studio's at, when I was\r\nUnderground, no one gave a fuck I was white, no labels wanted to sign me, almost gave up, I was\r\nLike, fuck it, until I met Dre, the only one to look past, gave me a chance, and I lit a fire up\r\nUnder his ass, helped him get back to the top, every fan black that I got, was probably his in\r\nExchange for every white fan that he's got, like damn, we just swapped, sittin' back lookin' at\r\nShit, wow, I'm like my skin is it starting to work to my benefit now, it's...\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSee the problem is, I speak to suburban kids, who otherwise would of never knew these words\r\nExist, whose mom's probably would of never gave two squirts of piss, 'till I created so much\r\nMotherfuckin' turbulence, straight out the tube, right into your living room I came, and kids\r\nFlipped when they knew I was produced by Dre, that's all it took, and they were instantly hooked\r\nRight in, and they connected with me too because I looked like them, that's why they put my\r\nLyrics up under this microscope, searchin' with a fine tooth comb, its like this rope, waitin'\r\nTo choke, tightening around my throat, watching me while I write this, like I don't like this,\r\nNope, all I hear is, lyrics, lyrics, constant controversy, sponsors working 'round the clock, to\r\nTry to stop my concerts early, surely hip-hop was never a problem in Harlem, only in Boston,\r\nAfter it bothered the fathers of daughters starting to blossom, so now I'm catchin' the flack\r\nFrom these activists when they raggin', actin' like I'm the first rapper to smack a bitch, or\r\nSay faggot, shit, just look at me like I'm your closest pal, the posterchild, the motherfuckin'\r\nSpokesman now for...\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nSo to the parents of America, I am the derringer aimed at little Erica, to attack her\r\nCharacter, the ringleader of this circus of worthless pawns, sent to lead the march right up to\r\nThe steps of congress, and piss on the lawns of the White House, to burn the casket and replace\r\nIt with a parental advisory sticker, to spit liquor in the faces of in this democracy of\r\nHypocrisy, fuck you Ms. Cheney, fuck you Tipper Gore, fuck you with the freest of speech this\r\nDivided states of embarrassment will allow me to have, fuck you, ,\r\nHe, hahaha, I'm just playin' America, you know I love you..."},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Say What You Say", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "Huh, so I'm out the game huh?\n\n\nYo Dre, we riding?\n\n\nWhatever\n\n\nWell I'm with you homie\n\n\nOK, let's handle this small shit\n\n\nI was born to brew up storms 'n stir up shit\nKick up dust, cuss 'til I slur up spit\nGrew up too quick, went through too much, knew too much shit\nCorrupt and I'm pour it on like syrup, bitch\nThick in gritz, sick and twisted Mr. Buttersworth\nDre told me to milk this shit for what it's worth\nTill the cow just tilts and tips 'n stumbles to earth\nAnd if I fumble the verse, keep going\nFirst take, I make mistakes, just keep it\nNo punches, pull no punches, that's weak shit\nFake shit if I ever take shit, I eat shit\nWasn't for him? I wouldn't be shit\n\n\nCreep with me, as we take a little trip down Memory Lane\nBeen here longer than anyone in the game\nAnd I ain't got to lie about my age\n\n\nBut what about Jermaine?\n\n\nFuck Jermaine, he don't belong speaking mine or Timbaland's name\nAnd don't think I don't read your little interviews and see what your saying\nI'm a giant, and I ain't gotta move till I'm provoked\nWhen I see you, I'ma step on you and not even know it\nYa midget, Mini-Me, with a bunch of little Mini-You's\nRunning around your backyard swimming pools\nOver 80 million records sold\nAnd I ain't have to do it with 10 or 11 year olds\n\n\nCause what you say is what you say\nSay what you say how you say it whenever you saying it\nJust remember how you said it when you was spraying it\nSo who you playing with huh huh huh huh?\n\nCause what you say is what you say\nSay what you say how you say it whenever you saying it\nJust remember how you said it when you was spraying it\nSo who you playing with huh huh huh huh?\n\n\nSecond verse, it gets worse\nIt gets no better than this\nAmateurs drink veteran piss\nFrom a Dixie cup, if you ever mix me up\nOr confuse me with a Cannabis or Dre with a Dupri\nWill rub it in, every club your in, we'll have you\nBlackballed and make sure you never rap a fucking again\nDre ain't having it as long as I'm here to play Devil's Advocate\n\n\nIf there was some magic shit I could wave\nOver the industry that could save it when I'm gone\nAnd bury to make sure the tradition carries on\nI would\n\n\nIf I could only use this power for good\nI wouldn't, not even if I could\n\n\nFrom the hood and I'm a hornet\nAnd I'ma only sting when I'm cornered\n\n\nAnd I'ma only sucker punch or swing without warning\nAnd swing to knock somebody's fucking head off\nCause I know, when they get up, I won't get a chance to let off\nAnother punch, I'm punk-rock, no one's punk\nDon't give a fuck, white Pac, so much spunk\nWhen I was little I knew I would blow up\nAnd sell a mil or grow up to be Attila\nGo nuts and be a killer\n\n\nAnd I'm something of a phenom\nOne puff of the chron\nI'm unstoppable, I'm alive, I'm on top again\nThere's no obstacle that I can't conquer\nSo come along with us (Come On)\n\n\nCause what you say is what you say\nSay what you say how you say it whenever you saying it\nJust remember how you said it when you was spraying it\nSo who you playing with huh huh huh huh?\n\nCause what you say is what you say\nSay what you say how you say it whenever you saying it\nJust remember how you said it when you was spraying it\nSo who you playing with huh huh huh huh?\n\n\nNow anybody who knows Dre\nKnows I'm about fast cars and alize, partying all day\nBut I handle my business cause it's work before play\nDon't look for trouble but I serve you gourmet\nHowever you want it, you could have it your way\nYou fuck my night up, I'ma fuck up your day\nBullet with your name, sending it your way\nThat goes for anyone who walks through that doorway\nCause this is my space, you invade it\nLive to regret it and you die trying to violate it\nFuck around and you'll get annihilated\nEyes dilated\n\n\nHa, like my old lady\nCause what you say is what you say\nSometimes what you mean is 2 different things\nDepending on your mood, if it swings, think too many things\nLittle hit of Dre's weed, I can do anything\nCatch a contact, then I'm gone and I'm back\nI speed write and my loose leaves my launch pad\n\n\nAnd I can pull any string\nDon't have to prove anything\nCatch a contract on your head\nYou headed West, talk shit about Dre?\nYou better get a vest, then invest in something\nTo protect your head and neck\n\n\nAnd it's back and forth all day like Red and Meth\nI joke when I say I'm the best in the booth\nBut a lot of truth is said in jest\nAnd if I ever do live to be a legend\nI'ma die a sudden death, 5 mics in The Source\nAin't holdin' my fucking breath\nBut I suffocate for the respect\nFore I breathe to collect the fucking check\n\n\nCause what you say is what you say\nSay what you say how you say it whenever you saying it\nJust remember how you said it when you was spraying it\nSo who you playing with huh huh huh huh?\n\nCause what you say is what you say\nSay what you say how you say it whenever you saying it\nJust remember how you said it when you was spraying it\nSo who you playing with huh huh huh huh?\n\n\nWatch your fuckin' mouth\n\n\nYo this Timbaland, tell him I said suck  my dick"},
{"year": "2005", "title": "Renegade", "album": "\"Curtain Call\" (2005)", "lyrics": "Motherfuckers say that I'm foolish, I only talk about jewels(bling bling)\nDo you fools listen to music or do you just skim through it?\nSee, I'm influenced by the ghetto you ruined\nThat same dude you gave nothing, I made something doing\nWhat I do, through and through and I gave you the news with a twist it's just his ghetto point of view\nThe renegade you been afraid\nI penetrate pop culture, bring 'em a lot closer to the block where they\npop toasters, and they live with their mums\nGot dropped roasters, from botched robberies niggas crotched over\nMummy's knocked up cause she wasn't watched over\nKnocked down by some clown when child support knocked\nNo, he's not around now how that sound to ya, jot it down\nI'll bring you through the ghetto without riding round\nhiding down ducking strays from frustrated youths stuck in their ways\nJust read a magazine that fucked up my day\nHow you rate music that thugs with nothing relate to it?\nI help them see they way through it, not you.\nCan't step in my pants, can't walk in my shoes\nBet everything you worth; you lose your tie and your shirt.\n\n\nSince I'm in a position to talk to these kids and they listen\nI ain't no politician but I'll kick it within a minute\nCause see, they call me a menace and if the shoe fits I'll wear it\nBut if it don't, then ya'll swallow the truth grin and bear it\nNow who's the king of these rude ludicrous lucrative lyrics?\nWho could inherit the title, put the youth in hysterics?\nUsing his music to steer it sharing his views and his merits\nBut there's a huge interference, they're saying, \"You shouldn't hear it.\"\nMaybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit\nMaybe it's beautiful music I made for you to just cherish\nBut I'm debated, disputed, hated and viewed in America\nas a motherfucking drug addict like you didn't experiment?\nNow now, that's when you start to stare at who's in the mirror\nand see yourself as a kid again, and you get embarrassed\nAnd I got nothing to do but make you look stupid as parents\nYou fucking do-gooders - too bad you couldn't DO-GOOD at marriage!\nAnd do you have any clue what I had to do to get here I don't\nthink you do so stay tuned and keep your ears glued to the stereo\nCause here we go, he's {Jigga durra Jigga da chk Jigga}\nAnd I'm the sinister, Mr. Kiss-My-Ass it's just the..\n\n\n\nRENEGADE! Never been afraid to say\nwhat's on my mind at, any given time of day\nCause I'm a RENEGADE! Never been afraid to talk\nabout anything (ANYTHING) anything (ANYTHING), RENEGADE!\n\n\nNever been afraid to say\nwhat's on my mind at, any given time of day\nCause I'm a (RENEGADE) Never been afraid to holler\nabout anything (ANYTHING) anything (ANYTHING)\n\n\nI had to hustle, my back to the wall, ashy knuckles\nPockets filled with a lot of lint, not a cent\nGotta vent, lot of innocent of lives lost on the project bench\nWhat you hollering? Gotta pay rent, bring dollars in\nBy the bodega, iron under my coat, feeling braver\nDoo-rag wrapping my waves up, pockets full of hope\nDo not step to me I'm awkward, I box leftier often\nMy pops left me and often my momma wasn't home\nCould not stress to me I wasn't growing, especially on nights\nI brought something home to quiet the stomach rumblings\nMy demeanor thirty years my senior\nMy childhood didn't mean much, only raisin greener\nRaising my fingers to critics, raising my head to the sky\nBig I did it multi(i) before I die (nigga)\nNo lie, just know I chose my own fate\nI drove by the fork in the road and went straight.\n\n\nSee, I'm a poet to some, a regular modern day Shakespeare\nJesus Christ the King of these Latter Day Saints here\nTo shatter the picture in which of that as they paint me\nas a monger of hate, Satan and scatter-brained atheist\nBut that ain't the case, see, it's a matter of taste\nWe as a people decide if Shady's as bad as they say he is\nOr is he the ladder, a gateway to escape?\nMedia scapegoat, they can be mad at today\nSee, it's as easy as cake, simple as whistling Dixie\nwhile I'm waving the pistol at sixty Christians against me\nGo to war with the Mormons, take a bath with the Catholics\nin holy water no wonder they try to hold me under longer\nI'm a motherfucking spiteful, delightful eyeful\nThe new Ice Cube, motherfuckers hate to like you\nWhat did I do? (huh) I'm just a kid from the gutter\nmaking his butter off these bloodsuckers, cause I'm a motherfucking\n\n\n\nRENEGADE! Never been afraid to say\nwhat's on my mind at, any given time of day\nCause I'm a RENEGADE! Never been afraid to talk\nabout anything (ANYTHING) anything (ANYTHING), RENEGADE!\n\n\nNever been afraid to say\nwhat's on my mind at, any given time of day\nCause I'm a (RENEGADE) Never been afraid to holler\nabout anything (ANYTHING) anything (ANYTHING)"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "My Mom", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Yo yo, alright, i'm gonna lay the chorus first\nHere we go now.\n\nMy mom loved valium and lots of drugs\nAnd that's why I am like I am cause I'm like her\nBecause my mom loved valium and lots of drugs\nThat's why I on what I on cause I'm my mom.\n\nMy mom my mom I know you're probably tired of hearing about my mom Oh ho! Whoa ho!\nBut this is just a story of when I was just a shorty and how I became hooked on va-al-ya-hum\nValium was in everything food that I ate, The water that I drank fucking peas on my plate,\nShe sprinkled just enough of it to season my steak, So everyday I have at least three stomach aches,\nNow tell me what kind of mother would want to see her\nSon grow up to be an under a undera-fuckin-chiever, My teacher didn't think I was going be nothing either,\nWhat the fuck you sticking gum up under the fucking seat for?\nMrs. Mathers your son has been huffing ether, Either that or the mother fuckers been puffing reefer,\nBut all this huffing and puffing wasn't what it was either,\nIt was neither I was buzzing but it wasn't what she thought, Pee in a tea cup?\nBitch you aint my keeper, i'm sleeping, What the fuck you keep on fucking with me for?\nSlut you need to leave me the fuck alone I aint playing,\nGo find you a white crayon and color a fucking zebra.\n\nMy mom love Valium and lots of drugs, That why I am like I am cause I'm like her,\nBecause my mom love Valium and lots of drugs, That why I'm on what I'm on cause I'm my mom.\n\nWait a minute this aint dinner this is paint thinner, You ate it yesterday I aint hear no complaints did I?\nNow here's a plate full of pain killers now just wait till I crush the Valium and put it in your potatoes you little mother fucker ill make you sit there and make that retarded fucking face without even tasting it, you better lick the fucking plate you aint wasting it, Put your face in it before I throw you in the basement again,\nAnd I aint giving in, your gonna just sit there in one fucking place spinning again till next thanksgiving and if you still aint finished it I use the same shit again then when I make spinach dip it will be placed into shit, you little shit want to sit there and play innocent, A rack fell and hit me at k mart and they witnessed it, child support, your father he aint sent us shit and so what if he did that aint none of your dang business kid.\n\nMy mom there's no one else quite like my mom I know I should let bygones be bygones\nBut she's the reason why I am high what I'm high on cause.\n\nMy mom love Valium and lots of drugs, That why I am like I am cause I'm like her,\nBecause my mom love Valium and lots of drugs, That why I'm on what I'm on cause I'm my mom.\n\nMy mom loved Valium now all I am Is a party animal, I am what I am\nBut I'm strong to be finished wit' me val-ium spinach But my buzz only lasts about two minutes\nBut I don't wanna swallow it without chew'in it I can't even write a rhyme without you in it\nMy Valium, my vaaa-eh-elll-liummmmm maaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnn.\n\nMan I never though that I could ever be A drug addict nah, fuck that I can't have it happen to me\nBut that's actually what has ended up happenin, a tragedy\nI'm fuckin passin it up catchin me And it's probably where I got acquainted with the taste ain't it?\nPharmaceuticals are the bomb mom, beautiful She killed the fuckin dog with the medicine she done fed it\nFeed it a fuckin aspirin and say that it has a headache\nHere want a snack, you hungry you fuckin rat Look at that, it's a Xanax, take it and take a nap\nEat it, but I don't need it, well fuck it then break it up\nTake a little piece and beat it before you wake Nathan up all right Ma you win, I don't feel like arguein\nI'll do it, pop it gobble it and start wobblin Stumble hobble tumble slip drip then I fall in bed\nWith a bottle of meds and a Heath Ledger bobblehead.\n\nMy mom love Valium and lots of drugs, That why I am like I am cause I'm like her,\nBecause my mom love Valium and lots of drugs,\nThat why I'm on what I'm on cause I'm my mom.\nMy mom i'm just like her My mom my mom my mom \nMy mom my mom my mom, my mom, my momma\nMeh mommeh, eh likah momma. Ha ha, sorry mom, still love you though Dr. dre 2010, hey this shit is hella hard homie\nYo take us on outta here."},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Never Enough", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "There's not much you could do or say to phase me\r\nPeople think I'm a little bit crazy\r\nI get it from all angles, even occasionally Doc Dre-zie'll\r\nHave to step in every once in a while to save me\r\nTo make me stop and think about it 'fore I just say things\r\nSometimes I forget what other people just may think\r\nA lot of rappers probably wouldn't know how to take me\r\nIf they heard some shit, I'd lay the tape 'fore they erase me\r\nI maybe a little too fast paced and racy\r\nSometimes the average listener rewinds and plays me twenty times\r\ncuz I say so many rhymes, it may seem like I'm goin too fast cuz my mind is racing\r\nAnd I could give a fuck what category you place me\r\nLong as when I'm pushing up daisies and gone\r\nAs long as you place me amongst one of them greats\r\nWhen I hit the heavenly gates I'll be cool beside Jay-Z\r\nFor every single die hard fan who embraced me\r\nI'm thankful for the talent in which God gave me\r\nAnd I'm thankful for the environment that he placed me\r\nBelieve it or not, I thank my mom for how she raised me\r\nIn the neighborhood daily, they jumped and chased me\r\nIt only made me what I am today, see\r\nRegardless of what anybody believes who hates me\r\nYou ain't gonna make or break me\r\nTryna strip me of my credibility and make me look fake, G\r\nYou're only gonna be in for a rude awakening\r\nCuz sooner or later you haters are all gonna face me\r\nAnd when you face me with all the shit you've been saving to say to me\r\nYou had all this time to think about it\r\nNow don't pussy out and try to about face me\r\nCuz I've been patiently waiting for the day\r\nThat we finally meet in the same place to see\r\n\r\n\r\nNo matter how many battles I been in and won\r\nNo matter how many magazines on my nuts\r\nNo matter how many MC's I eat up\r\nOoh ooh, it's never enough\r\n\r\n\r\nMy flow's untouchable now you gotta face it\r\nUh oh, it gets worse when I go back to the basics\r\nYou go say the wrong shit and get your face split\r\nThe smell of victory, love it so much I can taste it\r\nI spot my target, blaze it, direct hit\r\nGraze it, your peace talk, save it\r\nYou shit sounds dated, you're overrated\r\nI'm obligated to study your moves then crush you mutherfuckers\r\nIf I'm the best and the worst, then God's gift is a curse\r\nSoldier trained to destroy, you payin' attention boy?\r\nI spit shit, slick shit, so quick you miss it\r\nTo be specific I go ballistic as hieroglyphic\r\nMy music is a drug, press play, you ain't gotta sniff it\r\nChew it or pop it, roll a bag or chop it\r\nGet your high over and over, but you gotta cop it\r\nWhen it's hot, it's hot\r\nYour hatin' is undeniable, stop it"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Just Lose It", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down, down!\nOK..\nGuess who's back?\nBack again\nShady's back\nTell a friend\nWhaaaaaaaa\n\nNow everyone report to the dance floor\nTo the dance floor, to the dance floor\nNow everyone report to the dance floor\nAlright Stop!.....Pajama time\n\n\nCome here little kiddies, On my lap\nGuess who's back with a brand new rap?\nAnd I don't mean rap as in a new case of child molestation accusation\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nNo worries, papa's got a brand new bag of toys\nWhat else could I possibly do to make noise?\nI done touched on everything, but little boys\nThat's not a stab at Michael\nThat's just a metaphor, I'm just psycho\nI go a little bit crazy sometimes\nI get a little bit out of control with my rhymes\nGood God, dip, do a little slide\nBend down, touch your toes and just glide\nUp the center of the dance floor\nLike TP for my bunghole\nAnd it's cool if you let one go\nNobody's gonna know, who'd hear it?\nGive a little \"poot poot\", it's OK! \nOops my CD just skipped\nAnd everyone just heard you let one rip\n\n\nNow I'm gonna make you dance\nIt's your chance\nYeah boy shake that ass\nOops I mean girl,\nGirl, girl, girl,\nGirl you know you're my world\nAlright now lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nJust lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nGo crazy\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nOh baby\n(AH-AH)\nOh baby, baby\n(AH-AH)\n\n\nWell, it's Friday and it's my day\nJust to party all the way to Sunday\nMaybe 'til Monday, I dunno what day\nEveryday's just a holiday\nCrusin' on the freeway\nFeelin' kinda breezy\nGot the top down, lettin' my hair blow\nI dunno where I'm goin'\nAll I know is when I get there\nSomeone's gonna touch my body\n\nExcuse me miss, I don't mean to sound like a jerk\nBut I'm feelin' just a little stressed out from work\nCould you punch me in the stomach and pull my hair?\nSpit on me, maybe gouge my eyes out? (Yeah)\nNow, what's your name girl?\nWhat's your sign?\n \"Man, you must be up out your mind\"\nDRE! (AH-AH)\nBeer Goggles! Blind!\nI'm just tryna unwind now I'm\n\n\nNow I'm gonna make you dance\nIt's your chance\nYeah boy shake that ass\nOops I mean girl,\nGirl, girl, girl,\nGirl you know you're my world\nAlright now lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nJust lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nGo crazy\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nOh baby\n(AH-AH)\nOh baby, baby\n(AH-AH)\n\n\nIt's Tuesday and I'm locked up\nI'm in jail and I don't know what happened\nThey say I was running butt naked\nDown the street screaming\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nWell I'm sorry, I don't remember\nAll I know is this much\nI'm not guilty\nThey said, \"Save it, boy we gotcha you on tape\nyellin' at an old lady to 'Touch my body!'\"\n\nNow this is the part where the rap breaks down\nIt gets real intense, no one makes a sound\nEverything looks like it's 8 Mile now\nThe beat comes back and everybody lose themselves\nSnap back to reality\nLook it's B.Rabbit!\nYo you signed me up to battle!?\nI'm a grown man!\nChubba chubba chubba chubba chubba chubbie\nI don't have any lines to go right here so, chubba teletubbie!\nFella's (WHAT?!) Fella's (WHAT?!)\nGrab you left nut, make your right one jealous (what?)\nBlack girls\nWhite girls\nSkinny girls\nFat girls\nTall girls\nSmall girls\nI'm callin' all girls\n\nEveryone report to the dance floor\nIt's your chance for a little romance or\nButt squeezin' it's the season\nJust go (AH-AH-AH-AH)\nIt's so appeasin'\n\n\nNow I'm gonna make you dance\nIt's your chance\nYeah boy shake that ass\nOops I mean girl,\nGirl, girl, girl,\nGirl you know you're my world\nAlright now lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nJust lose it\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nGo crazy\n(AH-AH-AH-AH-AH)\nOh baby\n(AH-AH)\nOh baby, baby\n(AH-AH)\n\n\nUmMmMmm touch my body\nUmMmMmm touch my body\nOoh boy just touch my body\nI mean girl just touch my body"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "3 A.M.", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Oh oh oh oh oh ooh\n\nThere is no escaping....\nThere's no place to hide....\nYou scream, \"Someone save me?\"\nBut they don't pay no mind...\nGoodbye!\n\nYou're walkin' down a horror corridor\nIt's almost 4 in the morning and you're in a\nNightmare, it's horrible\nRight there's the coroner\nWaiting for ya to turn the corner so he can corner ya\nYou're a goner he's onto ya\nOut the corner of his cornea he just saw you run\nAll you want is to rest 'cause you can't run anymore you're done\nAll he wants is to kill you in front of an audience\nWhile everybody is watching in the party applauding it\nHere I sit while I'm caught up in deep, thought again\nContemplating my next plot again\nSwallowing a klonopin while I'm nodding in and out on the ottoman\nAt the Ramada inn, holdin' on to the pill bottle then\nLick my finger and swirl it round the bottom and make sure I got all of it\nWake up naked at McDonald's with\nBlood all over me, Dead bodies behind the counter, shit\nGuess I must have just blacked out again...\nNot again!\n\nIt's 3 A.M. in the mornin'\nPut my key in the door and\nBodies layin' all over the floor and\nI don't remember how they got there\nBut I guess I must've killed em (killed em)\nI said...\nIt's 3 A.M. in the mornin'\nPut my key in the door and\nBodies layin' all over the floor and\nI don't remember how they got there\nBut I guess I must've killed em (killed em)\n\nSitting nude in my living room, it's almost noon\nI wonder what's on the tube, maybe they'll show some boobs\nSurfin' every channel until I find Hannah Montana\nThen I reach for the Aloe and lanolin\nBust all over the wall paneling dismantlin' every candle\nOn top of the fireplace mantle and\nGrab my flannel and my bandana then\nKiss the naked mannequin man again\nYou can see him standin' in my front window if you look in\nI'm just a hooligan who's used to usin' hallucinogens\nCausin' illusions again\nBrain contusions again\nCutting and bruisin' the skin\nRazors, scissors and pins\nJesus, when does it end?\nPhases, that I go through\nDays that I'm so confused\nDays that I don't know who\nGave, these molecules to\nMe, what am I gon' do?\nHey the prodigal son\nThe diabolical one\nVery methodical when I slaughter them\n\nIt's 3 A.M. in the mornin'\nPut my key in the door and\nBodies layin' all over the floor and\nI don't remember how they got there\nBut I guess I must've killed em (killed em)\nI said...\nIt's 3 A.M. in the mornin'\nPut my key in the door and\nBodies layin' all over the floor and\nI don't remember how they got there\nBut I guess I must've killed em (killed em)\n\nShe puts the lotion in the bucket, it puts the lotion on the skin, or else it gets the hose again\nShe puts the lotion in the bucket, it puts the lotion on the skin, or else it gets the hose again\n\nI cut and I slash slice and gash\nLast night was a blast\nI can't quite remember when I had that\nMuch fun of a half pint of a jack\nMy last Vic and a half\nA flashlight up Kim Kardashian's ass\nI remember the first time I dismembered a family member\nDecember I think it was, I was havin' drinks with my cousin\nI wrapped him in Christmas lights, pushed him into the stinkin' tub\nCut him up into pieces and just when I went to drink his blood\nI thought I oughta drink his bath water that oughta be fun\nThat's when my days of serial murder manslaughter begun\nThe sight of blood excites me, that might be an artery son\nYour blood curdling screams just don't seem to bother me none\nIt's 3 A.M. and here I come so you should probably run\nA secret passageway around here man there's got to be one\nOh no there's probably none, he can scream all that he wants\nTop of his lungs, but ain't no stoppin' me from choppin' him up... up\n'Cause it's...\n\n3 A.M. in the mornin'\nPut my key in the door and\nBodies layin' all over the floor and\nI don't remember how they got there\nBut I guess I must've killed em (killed em)\nI said...\nIt's 3 A.M. in the mornin'\nPut my key in the door and\nBodies layin' all over the floor and\nI don't remember how they got there\nBut I guess I must've killed em (killed em)"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Tonya (Skit)", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Hey! hey, stop, hey. please stop, fuck stop!\r\nThank god you stopped.\r\nFuck, my fucking on star isn't working,  I left my fucking phone at home! \r\nGod, I've been standing out here for like, an hour I'n soaking wet, freezing\r\nThank you so much. really, you're a life-saver What are you doing?\r\nFucking! get away from me! what the fuck! fuckin asshole!\r\nGet away from me you motherfucker! get away!\r\nGet away you fuckin freak! get away from me! \r\nGoddamit fuck! help me!"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "Fly Away", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "Some people ask me, where I\u2019ve been lately\nThey thought I fell off, nobody could save me\nI play in the background, I don\u2019t back down\nSo don\u2019t get it twisted, tryna play me\nFirst I come out, they underate me\nThen I come back, still try to fade me\nThey say I\u2019m nasty, say I\u2019m crazy\nAsk what I think, I say maybe\nI fly away\nIt ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 in my way so I may aswell fly away\nIt ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 else to say so I may aswell fly away\nI know you wanna see me down but we aint gon die today\nCos I\u2019ve been to the top and there\u2019s nowhere else to go\nThe only way to see me is if you lookin\u2019 up from down below\nAnd there\u2019s nothin\u2019 else to say so I may aswell fly away\nAnd there\u2019s nothin\u2019 in my way so I may aswell fly away\nI\u2019m on top of this thing so i may aswell fly away\n\n\nGot my self esteem back, got my confidence up\nI\u2019ma step up on the stage now, I\u2019m gonna strut\nAnd walk around with my pants hanging over my butt\nAnd you aint gotta tell me notin\u2019 boy, get off of my nuts\nIt goes one for the money, two for the show\nMy shit don\u2019t stink, I dont think so\nWipe my ass with a tissue and roll it back up in a roll\nAre you ready now, here we go\nThe bald eagle has landed\nI\u2019m back in ya hair, sorry for leavin\u2019 you stranded\nIm twice as dread and evil and rancid\nThey cant sit, I don\u2019t think anybody understands it\nEspecially when the Worlds silly putty in ya hands, its playdough\nI aint got to play though, they say I died in a fatal\nCar crash, shows what they know\nShit if I did, it\u2019d be a trailer not a car\nThe white trash star\nI fuckin RV up like Brett Favre\nHomie you got it backwards, your dippin your soup inside ya crackers\nI can carry rap til my back hurts\nSet it down go right back to the Chiropractors\nGet my back right\nNow I\u2019m right back on you bastards\nI was chasin\u2019 the dragon, I dont know what happened\nIt was like the feelin\u2019 I had when I first started rappin\u2019\nI just could\u2019nt seem to get back and recapture that magic\nSo I went back to the lab, thats where I\u2019ve been at when...\n\n\nSome people ask me, where I\u2019ve been lately\nThey thought I fell off, nobody could save me\nI play in the background, I don\u2019t back down\nSo don\u2019t get it twisted, tryna play me\nFirst I come out, they underate me\nThen I come back, still try to fade me\nThey say I\u2019m nasty, say I\u2019m crazy\nAsk what I think, I say maybe\nI fly away\nIt ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 in my way so I may aswell fly away\nIt ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 else to say so I may aswell fly away\n\n\nI took a hiatus haters now I\u2019m back to cause trouble\nGot the fucking shape of mushroom clouds for thought bubbles\nIm the *bang* you aint fuckin sick\nThe hospital won\u2019t even give you cough drops for course cocksucker\nYou think your hot, you aint even luke warm\nMy pubes hotter than you\nYour soft I use fire to cool me off\nI told em I\u2019ll grow up one day and show \u2018em I\u2019d be able to choke clouds\nPick up lightenin\u2019 bolts and throw \u2018em\nTake the world by storm with these words I form\nGeorgie porgie kissed the girls, make the girls cry for em\nMake \u2018em swarm, make \u2018em fight over the shirts I\u2019ve worn\nSworn over my sweat towels, its mind blowin\nYes Im livin\u2019 the dream homie, cant nothin\u2019 compare\nI\u2019m so up, I\u2019m stuck in mid air I\u2019m lovin\u2019 it yeah\nIts like these people are steps now, all they do is stare\nThese haters is so pussy they\u2019re afraid to be scared\nThis is pay back, like I owe \u2018em back pay\nThey spat in my face, now I\u2019m back to do them the same exact way\nAnd leave this rap game with a bad taste,\nAnd slap it back out, before I step back out of this crap thanks\nSlap me now I\u2019m slapping \u2018em back hey! fuck it we\u2019ll slap back\nBut yeh okay now we\u2019ll talk cause I\u2019m smack ay\nAnd I aint looking back infact they can stare at my ass crack\nHow\u2019s that for hindsight, what the track say?"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Hell Breaks Loose", "album": "\"Relapse: Refill\" (2009)", "lyrics": "I want you to understand something\nThat when I come up in this bitch, I want the fans jumping\nI want them fists pumping in the air, I don't look like a millionaire\nBut I feel like a million bucks, Ladies won't you fill your cups?\nShady's come to fill you up, if you a D or a C-cup\nYou can even be a B, it's just me and D-R-E\nYou'll be in the E-R, we are strapped with so much T-N-T\nWe may blow, no, not even C-P-R from the EMT\nCan help you to resuscitate, You bustas must be flustered, wait\nYou can't cut the mustard, What's your problem, can't you bust a grape?\n(chk chk) What's my name? Shady came to crush the game\nInstantly, not even fair to them cause they pale in comparisons\nSo much they might as well wear a skin, don't you wish you could just share his pen?\nCause this shit is getting embarrassing, the fog is thick and the air is thin\nCause he won't even let them try to breathe, Dadidadidadadi\nHe makes it look so easy, Girl you just hit the lottery\n\n\nNow this would be the part of the song\nWhere they drop the needle on and hell breaks loose\nTry to restrain us, you can't contain us\nWe still gonna make it stick no matter what we do\nEverywhere we go, it seems we looking\nFor any excuse to just cut loose\n\nSo this would be the part of the song\nWhere they drop the needle on and hell breaks loose\n\n\nThis is when shit hits the fan like it just flat out don't stand\nThis is the only moment that matters, your homie rolling with Mathers\nThen chaos erupts, Em's in back, Dre's in the front\nSo do what we say and once it's over like a suance, it hums\n(It makes them stay in a trance, No choice, they have to dance)\nIt's like the playoffs, just making sure that we stay in the hunt\nTake a day off or what? Man, you better lay off the blunts\nYou must be smokin' something, think I ain't smokin' nothing, stay off my nuts\n\nNow hit the floor, baby, time to wipe away all the rust\nShake all them cobwebs loose, loosen up with a little bit of Grey Goose\nYeah, girl, shake that caboose, I don't wanna see you try to make no excuse\nD-R-E is on the loose, I'm like a goose when it comes to the Chronic use\nYou know I can't stand to lose, Me and my goons are like animals\nWake up like a pack of wolves and we came here to extract the roof\nYeah, man, ain't that the truth? Girl, your mans is like in the booth\nDefinitely back up in this bitch, You swing? All hell breaks loose\n\n\nNow this would be the part of the song\nWhere they drop the needle on and hell breaks loose\nTry to restrain us, you can't contain us\nWe still gonna make it stick no matter what we do\nEverywhere we go, it seems we looking\nFor any excuse to just cut loose\n\nSo this would be the part of the song\nWhere they drop the needle on and hell breaks loose\n\n\nNow I know you're feelin discouraged but homie just mark my words\nI'm mur-durin the flow, liquid courage I'm fin' to blow\nAs soon as we hit the do' power surges head to toe\nI'm sure to push it as far as words are meant to go\nWe're in the indigo Winnebago with tinted windows\nFerocious as we proceed to beat up the block wit yo' hoe\nWith speakers knockin it's 3 o'clock, me and Doc then proceed to drop\n\"E\" and hop out the vehicle and knock on your do'\n\n\nYeah, so let us in 'fore we huff and puff and we blow\nWe ain't bluffin for nothin, we'll knock the stuffin out you\nRevenge is so sweet, move 'til you injure your feet\nYeah, move it or lose it freak, move to the beat, lose yourself indubitably\nPass up on that little cute chick right there that'll be pretty damn stupid of me\nBorn and raised in the C-P-T, yeah Los Angeles, rules of the streets\nThem haters hatin on me, but I refuse to lose any sleep\nKeep that deuce-deuce in the seat, Dre fall off that's news to me"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "25 To Life", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "Too late for the other side\nCaught in a chase\n25 to life\nToo late for the other side\nCaught in a chase\n25 to life\n( Yeah)\nToo late\n( I can't keep chasing em\nI'm taking my life back)\nCaught in a chase\n25 to life\n\n\nI don't think she understands the sacrifices that I made\nMaybe if this bitch had acted right I would've stayed\nBut I've already wasted over half of my life I would've laid\nDown and died for you I no longer cry for you\nNo more pain bitch you\nTook me for granted took my heart and ran it straight into the planet\nInto the dirt I can no longer stand it\nNow my respect I demand it\nImma take control of this relationship\nCommand it, and imma be the boss of you now goddamnit\nAnd what I mean is that I will no longer let you control me\nSo you better hear me out this much you owe me\nI gave up my life for you, totally devoted to you while I've stayed\nFaithful all the way this is how I fucking get repaid\nLook at how I dress fucking baggy sweats, go to work a mess\nAlways in a rush to get back to you I ain't heard you yet\nNot even once say you appreciate me I deserve respect\nI've done my best to give you nothing less than perfectness\nAnd I know that if I end this I'll no longer have nothing left\nBut you keep treating me like a staircase it's time to fucking step\nAnd I wont be coming back so don't hold your fucking breath\nYou know what you've done no need to go in depth\nI told you, you'd be sorry if I fucking left\nI'd laugh while you wept\nHows it feel now, yeah, funny ain't it, you neglected me\nDid me a favor although my spirit free you've set\nBut a special place for you in my heart I have kept\nIt's unfortunate but it's,\n\n\nToo late for the other side ( Yeah)\nCaught in a chase\n25 to life\n( Can't take no more)\nToo late for the other side\nCaught in a chase\n25 to life\n\n\nI feel like when I bend over backwards for you all you do is laugh\nCause that ain't good enough you expect me to fold myself in half\nTil I snap\nDon't think I'm loyal\nAll I do is rap\nHow can I moonlight on the side\nI have no life outside of that\nDon't I give you enough of my time\nYou don't think so, do you?\nJealous when I spend time with the girls\nWhy I'm married to you still man I don't know\nBut tonight I'm serving you with papers\nI'm divorcing you\nGo marry someone else and make em famous\nAnd take away their freedom like you did to me\nTreat em like you don't need them and they ain't worthy of you\nFeed em the same shit that you made me eat\nI'm moving on forget you oh,\nNow I'm special? I didn't feel special when I was with you\nAll I ever felt was this\nHelplessness\nImprisoned by a selfish bitch\nChew me up and spit me out\nI fell for this so many times\nIt's ridiculous\nAnd still I stick with this\nI'm sick of this but in my sickness and addiction\nYou're addictive as they get\nEvil as they come vindictive as they make em\nMy friends keep asking me why I can't just walk away from\nI'm addicted\nTo the pain, the stress, the drama\nI'm drawn in so I guess imma mess\nCursed and blessed\nBut this time imma\nAin't changing my mind\nI'm climbing out this abyss\nYou screaming as I walk out that I'll be missed\nBut when you spoke of people who meant the most to you\nYou left me off your list\n\nFuck you hip-hop\nI'm leaving you, my life sentence is served bitch\nAnd it's just\n\n\nToo late for the other side\nCaught in a chase\n25 to life\n( I'm gone, man)\nToo late for the other side\nCaught in a chase\n25 to life\nToo late\nCaught in a chase\n25 to life"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "Untitled", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "(You don't own me. Don't try to change me)\nNah man\nNot quite finished yet\n\nGirl, I think,\nYou just might've tried to pull a motherfucking fast one, I'm mad\nYou just hurt my goddamn feeling, and that was the last one I had\nDoes this look like an arcade? Tryna play games?\nSee this saw blade? See the silhouette of a stalker\nin your walk-way? Better co-operate\nOr get saut\u00e9ed and rotisseried while you're hog-tied\nMC's get so quiet you can hear a motherfucking dog whistle when I walk by\n'Colt Seavers' on a mule, stunting on that ass like the fucking Fall Guy\nI don't gas my Mercedes after midnight, I treat it like a Mogwai\n'Cause it will turn into a Gremlin and run over kids, women and men\nVrinn-vrinn! Motor's so big you can fit a midget in his engine\nBitch, give me them digits, why you're cringin'\nNot by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin\nWill I spend-spend even ten cents on you, since when\nDo you think it's gonna cost me a pretty penny?\nShit, if I think a penny's pretty\njust imagine how beautiful a quarter is to me\nEenie meenie miney mo, Catch an Eskimo by his toe (you don't own me)\nWhile he's trying to roll a snowball,\nbut don't make him lose his cool\nIf he hollers better let him go ya'll, 'cause (you don't own me)\n\nNow here we go go go\n\nGet up! Baby, get a move on, like a U-Haul\nYou can rack your brain like pool balls\nYou won't ever think of this shit\nYeah, honey you called?\nWell, here I come, Havoc on the beat, I wreak it\nEvil I see, hear and speak it\nLady, put your money on Shady\nFuck that other weak shit\nPut your eggs in the same basket\nYou can count every motherfucking chicken 'fore it hatches\n'Cause, you can bet your ass that we gon' get it crackin'\nLike the Kraken and Titans when they're clashin'\nGet your brains bashed in so bad\nYou gon' have Kurt Cobain askin'\nTo autograph a bloodstained napkin\nUnfashionable and 'bout as rational\nas a rational fag's asshole\nNow let's take that line, run it up the flag pole with Elton\nSee if he's cool with it\nDon't stand there and look stupid at me, bitch\nI ain't in the mood for this shit\nGet my dick, Google it 'til it pops up\nYa'll are so motherfucking full of shit that you're stopped up\nMe, I'm always shitting diarrhea of the mouth\n'Til your speakers crap out  \"Ohp, What?\"\nGirl, you got a hot butt like a lit cigarette \"Chik-Chigarette\"\nBut you won't get a hot fudge Sundae from me\nSo do not strut my way, slut! Because..\n\nYou don't own me\n\nHere we go go go\n\nAnd now that I got your panties in a bunch\nand your bowels in an uproar\nIm'ma show you why I came\nSo you stop asking me what the fuck for\nNow look you little slut, cunt, whore I know you want more,\nbitch, it's time to put the 'Math' back in the Mathers\n'Cause I'm a fucking problem, run boy!\nEvery flow got it mastered\nSo every last word that you fucking fags heard\ncomes straight from the fish's ass, yeah\nIn other words I'm a bass-turd!\nLooking at me like I killed Kenny\nGas in the tank, yeah still plenty\nNo morals are instilled in me\nSo remorse I really don't feel any\nEat your heart out, Hannibal\nUnderstandable why you're jealous, fucking animal\nI got cannibal magnetism, can't resist him now, can ya hoe?\nShady, I don't understand your flow.\nUnderstand my flow?\nBitch, I flow like Troy Polamalu's hair, boy.\nDon't you dare try to follow or compare, boy.\nI'm raw, you ain't even medium rare\nstay the fuck outta my hair, boy!\nYou can look, you can stare and point\nBut you can't touch -- I'm too clairvoyant.\nI don't get it man, is there a void\nAll this weak shit, what am I steroids?\nWell, bitch, I'm back with some shit for that ass\nand your trunk, Elephant hemorrhoids\n\nAnd remember boys\n\nYou don't own me\n\nNow here we go go go\n\nThank you for coming out\nHope you enjoyed the show\n'Til next time\n\nha ha\n\nPeace!"},
{"year": "2011", "title": "Get Money (Freestyle)", "album": "\"Straight From The Vault\" (2011)", "lyrics": "Yeah, yeah, I get it\nI run this rap shit, now guess who\u2019s back\nYou thought I left you, now why would I do that? (1, 2, 3)\n\nThey keep on sayin\u2019 the same rappers are the best\nJay-Z and Kanye West, maybe they\u2019re just tryna distract it\nFrom the fact that I\u2019m comin\u2019 back\nOr maybe it\u2019s cause I ain\u2019t black, maybe it\u2019s because of that\nMaybe it\u2019s because I\u2019m the highest sellin\u2019 artist in rap\nWhile I\u2019m sittin\u2019 back in my office jackin\u2019 off to my plaques\nI\u2019m still sick, how can I be sick this long\nAnd I\u2019m still alive, Magic Johnson arise\nI thrive on makin\u2019 my opponents think that I\u2019ve died\nThat\u2019s when I just pop up outta nowhere, oh yeah, there we go there\nDamn I forgot how much money he got\nOn the beach of Saint-Tropez, but your man don\u2019t lay\nIn the sun cause I don\u2019t tan, I burn, blood clot\nWhen you gonna learn how much money we\u2019ve earned\nHow does it feel to know I came in this game at 25\nAnd coulda retired at 29 in my 20\u2032s still\nAnd Fif\u2019 here to lick on that Coca-Cola shit\nAnd he ain\u2019t even gotta look at coke to even hold a brick\nNo more, oh boy, goddamn did he score\nTo go from sellin\u2019 bags to bottles right out the store\nAnd Shady hit the box office man, he knocked the socks off us\nMy ex-wife is set for life, you profitless cocksuckers\nSo stay the fuck off us, we make pay\nI\u2019m just a super easy modest MC, okay?\nTil I hear the word has been, that\u2019s when I start spazzin\u2019\nSmart asses, kiss a smarter ass then\nI\u2019m the best thing that ever happened to rap, bastards\nI\u2019m a blonde Dre, now gimme Kanye\u2019s glasses!"},
{"year": "2014", "title": "Guts Over Fear", "album": "\"Shady XV\" (2014)", "lyrics": "Feels like a close, it's coming to\nFuck am I gonna do?\nIt's too late to start over\nThis is the only thing I, thing I know\n\n\nSometimes I feel like all I ever do is\nFind different ways to word the same, old song\nEver since I came a long\nFrom the day the song called \"Hi, my Name Is\" dropped\nStarted thinkin' my name was fault\nCause any time things went wrong\nI was the one who they would blame it on\nThe media made me the, equivalent of a modern-day Genghis Khan\nTried to argue it was only entertainment, dog\nGangsta? Nah, courageous balls\nHad to change my style, they said I'm way too soft\nAnd I sound like AZ & Nas, out came the claws\nAnd the fangs been out since then\nBut up until the instant that I went against it\nIt was ingrained in me that I wouldn't amount to a shitstain I thought\nNo wonder I had to unlearn everything my brain was taught\nDo I really belong in this game? I pondered\nI just wanna' play my part, should I make waves or not?\nSo back and forth in my brain, the tug-o-war wages on\nI don't wanna' seem ungrateful or disrespect the artform I was raised upon\nBut sometimes you gotta' take a loss\nAnd have people rub it in your face before you get made pissed off\nKeep pluggin', it's your only outlet\nAnd your only outfit so you know they're gonna' talk about it\nBetter find a way to counter it quick and make it, ah\nFeel like I've already said this a kabillion eighty times\nHow many times can I say the same thing different ways that rhyme?\nWhat I really wanna' say is if there's anyone else that can relate to my story\nBet 'cha feel the same way I felt when I was in the same place you are\nWhen I was afraid ta'\n\n\nI was a... afraid to make a single sound\nAfraid I would never find a way out\nAfraid I'd never be found\nI don't wanna' go another round\nAn angry man's power will shut you up\nTrip wires fill this house with tip toed love\nRun out of excuses for everyone\nSo here I am and I will not run\nGuts over fear (the time is near)\nGuts over fear (I shed a tear)\nFor all the times I let you push me round\nAnd let you keep me down\nNow I got guts over fear, guts over fear\n\n\nFeels like a close, it's coming to\nFuck am I gonna do?\nIt's too late to start over\nThis is the only thing I, thing I know\n\n\nI know what it's like, I was there once, single parents\nHate your appearance, did you struggle to find your place in this world?\nAnd the pain spawns all the anger on\nBut it wasn't until I put the pain in songs learned who to aim it on\nThat I made a spark, started to spit hard as shit\nLearned how to harness it while the reins were off\nAnd there was a lot of bizarre shit, but the crazy part\nWas soon as I stopped saying \"I gave a fuck\"\nHaters started to appreciate my art\nAnd it just breaks my heart to look at all the pain I've caused\nBut what am I gonna do when the rage is gone?\nAnd the lights go out in that trailer park?\nAnd the window is closing and there's nowhere else that I can go with flows\nAnd I'm frozen cause there's no more emotion for me to pull from\nJust a bunch of playful songs that I make for fun\nSo to the break of dawn here I go recycling the same, old song\nBut I'd rather make \"Not Afraid 2\" than make another motherfucking \"We Made You\", uh\nAnd I don't wanna' seem indulgent when I discuss my lows and my highs\nMy demise and my uprise, pray to God\nI just opened enough eyes later on\nGave you the supplies and the tools to hopefully use that'll make ya' strong\nEnough to lift yourself up when you feel like I felt\n'Cause I can't explain to y'all how dang exhausted my legs felt\nJust havin' to balance my dang self\nWhen on eggshells I was made to walk\nBut thank you, ma, 'cause that gave me the\nStrength to cause Shady-mania,\nSo when they empty that stadium\n'Least I made it out ta that house and a found a place in this world when the day was done\nSo this is for every kid who all's they ever did was dreamt of one day just getting accepted\nI represent him or her, anyone similar, you are the reason that I made this song\nAnd everything you're scared to say don't be afraid to say no more\nFrom this day forward, just let them a-holes talk,\nTake it with a grain of salt and eat their fuckin' faces off\nThe legend of the angry blonde lives on through you when I'm gone\nAnd to think I was a...\n\n\nI was a... afraid to make a single sound\nAfraid I would never find a way o-o-out\nAfraid I'd never be found\nI don't wanna go another round\nAn angry man's power will shut you up\nTrip wires fill this house with tip toed love\nRun out of excuses for everyone\nSo here I am and I will not run\nGuts over fear (the time is near)\nGuts over fear (I shed a tear)\nFor all the times I let you push me round\nAnd let you keep me down\nNow I got, guts over fear, guts over fear"},
{"year": null, "title": "Biterphobia", "album": null, "lyrics": "\"Do it!\" \n\n \nSneakin in through the back door, fruity MC's get ambushed \nRammed and squooshed, slammed and pushed, crammed and mushed \nThen I'm movin on down from the right to left \nSo bite the meth or prepare to fight to death \nTo get jacked, attacked and cracked in two \nSmackin through 'til youre black and blue for actin true \nI'm dreaded like a man whose hair is all strands \nProof that I be sniffin on aerosol cans \nI'm stompin, I'm kickin, I'm chokin, I'm stampin em \nclompin em, stickin, and pokin and clampin em \nTo electric chairs and tightenin bolts \nHit em with frightening jolts of lightning bolts \nI'm zappin, rappers, singers, and dancers \nFaster than you could snap your fingers for ransom \nCancer is in the flesh, alive and breathin \nSurvivin by connivin and theivin \n\n \"Do it!\", \"Eat em up\" \n\n \nI had a dream I was gettin jacked by biters \nIt felt like I was bein attacked by spiders \nDevelopin a fear of biterphobia \nI'm holdin a gas can and lighter over ya \nIf I detect ya, I'ma pulverize \nDissect your brain, diggin in your skull for lies \nAnd I'ma torture, with material iller \nthan a stark ravin mad serial killer \nI'm more dangerous than a loaded chamber is \nA major risk to a plagiarist \nSo beware of the aura, A terror for the horrible \nWill scare ya tomorrow, is the airbourne assault of the rappers \nHit the source to better my skills, \nI head for the border \nAnd run the Galloping Hills, the choice is yours \nCause now buddy's noises force me to scream til my voice is hoarse \nCause I'm sick of these jabber jaws and crap that grab at yours and savage yours to bite like labradors \nIn the range of my double-barrel \nAnd your life is in danger, trouble, and peril \n\n \n\n \nI trample and stamp liars, like they were campfires \nCuz vampires right on my balls like clamp pliers \nAnd swing on my big thingamajig \nSo I'm bringin my nig Proof for backup when I sing at my gig \nCause biters are fallin head over heels \nIn love with every rhyme that I've said over reels \nThat's how I became paranoid \nChewin my fingernails, pullin my hair annoyed \nCause every time you bit it was deliberate \nSo I'm forced to hit a little quicker with \nan ultimatum I assault and slayed em \nwith rhymes and it's ultimatum just to cultivate em \nEnergetic and imaginative, \npronouns and verbs, predicates and adjectives \nWill reach out and grab ya, 9 times outta 10 \nThat's why I'm spilling one of a kind rhymes out a pen \n\n \"Everybody walk out the back door\""},
{"year": null, "title": "Got Next", "album": null, "lyrics": "Shady records ain't nobody better than this\nShady records no cheddar than us \nShady records ain't nobody better than this\n\n\nYou can hate me all you want \nIt don't phase me, its so crazy\nI let these motherfuckers worry about what I'm doing\nBut they need to worry about them goddamn selves\nI just do me \nYou should be doing you not trying to copy on me\nI got this locked from the burbs to the projects\nNow none of you worry cause I got next\n\n\nThis rap shit out I map shit strategically\nTiming is everything and that seems to be the key\nTo my success it's worked for me repeatedly\nTiming is everything and that seems to be the key\nLet them diss you first respond immediately\nIn order to master art of war don't start a war shit not no more\nWe done scared them off there are no more\nVictims to sick I'm fixing the pics \nI'm a start shit ain't got no pictures to rip\nAnd shit to throw darts at \nAin't got no more targets shit Irv and Jeff   \nWe don't beat em to death benzino in dept\nJust be no one left to bully \nBush is pussy, why the fuck you think in name's bush\nPuss is bushy ain't shit going on shit I been getting so bored lately\nI'm thinking of doing some shit\nTo get you to go and hate me again\n\n\n\n\nThe game just isn't the same its changing\nShit Dre's quitting Jay's quitting\nNow its wanksta they're saying the same shit\nIt's ancient its fake \nIts making me so bored I'ma just make a new language\nFubba U cuppa cubba Uppa u Uppa Oobba\nYoubba can Susubba my dadabbadick throug the tuba\nSome other rumour lama I'm not a huma I'ma\nSupersonic new robotic suicidal Unabomber\nYou think I'm the new osama\nPress thinks I'm a new madonna\nJeffry Dahmer left me \nWith his legacy to carry on a\nLot talk and rumors on us \nWho's the hottest to be honest \nHip hop ain't been the same since tupac moved to cuba on us\n\nShady records ain't nobody better than this\nShady records no fucking more cheddar than us \nShady records ain't nobody better than this\nShady records no fucking more cheddar than us\n\n\n\nYou can hate all you want, but I don't give it a thought\nCoz you don't know about me\nIts really that simple, I can fit in a thimble whatcha\nKnow about me?\nThey ain't feeling my songs, I tell the haters be gone coz \nYou don't know about me...better het use to the fact\nThat I be doing this tracks until they know about me\n\nShady records ain't nobody better than this\nShady records no cheddar than us \nShady records ain't nobody better than this"},
{"year": null, "title": "Echo", "album": null, "lyrics": "Oh, all around the World,\nThere's an echo\nAs he takes a bow\nAnd they all know all the girls, the boys\nThey chase the noise\nThrough the highs and through the lows\nThey will follow the echo, echo, echo, echo\nThey will follow the echo, echo, echo, echo\n\n\nI can hear them calling, calling, calling, calling, calling\n\n\nI eat rappers with the rhyme, consume 'em\nThe only fucking thing that you consume is time\nI'm super human, my world is like a Rubik's cube\nIt's too complex girl, you assuming, cupids looming\nMy mentality's caveman stupid woman\nMy life is Truman show, all I have is music hoe\nI stopped chasing every chick under the sun many moons ago\nSo pretend my dick is a balloon and blow\nCause you better put a fork in it if you think I'm a lay here just spooning yo\nOh you think you the shit 'cause I just said you was beautiful\nDiabolical, till the last molecule, down to my last hair follicle and cuticle\nRotten to the core, to the bunghole all the way down to my soul, from my head to my toe...\nEver since I was thirteen I learned how to sew, so shut my own booty hole\nCause I ain't took no shit since I looked down to my nuts and saw my first pubic grow\nI told these stupid hoes when I come back I'm a set this bitch on fire\nAnd this time I don't mean I'm a pour gasoline on some chick and light her\nCause this time when I fuck this world I'm put my whole God-damn dick inside her\nI ain't even put my tip in that hoe yet\nI'm go get Nickel and try to rip it wider\n\n\nOh, all around the World,\nThere's an echo\nAs he takes a bow\nAnd they all know all the girls, the boys\nThey chase the noise\nThrough the highs and through the lows\nThey will follow the echo, echo, echo, echo\nThey will follow the echo, echo, echo, echo\n\n\nClassical poems\nBattle my own demons\nI need a glass of Patron\nBad as I need a horn\nStabbing my clavicle bone\nI'm matador prone\nFirst time I seen a desert eagle\nI was letting the 44 buss\nThe 44 pop\nFirst time you seen one, you was eating coco puffs\nLooking at Robocop\nI'm not a man, I'm a logo, I'm sustain\nIn order to clean my veins you need saline\nI'm never referring to the solution\nI'm talking about more like the mustang vroom\nGet respect from the get-go, hello\nSet to the echo, psycho\nPen got a mind of it's own, gotta write my rhymes with a timer otherwise\nI'll probably vibe out to a nine minute song\nAs the echo follows the Maserati\nAs the petrol swallows,\nI'm a thousand bodies away from a skeleton\nCheck your bible inside it, it will say this guys an elephant\nI'm fly like I'm, killing the scene like I'm a villain with wings\nI'll sleep when I'm 6 feet deep,\nRight now I'm living a dream\nThough we may be reckless\nThe ladies check us\nThey whisper \"Shady Records\"\nBaby echo\n\n\nOh, all around the World,\nThere's an echo\nAs he takes a bow\nAnd they all know all the girls, the boys\nThey chase the noise\nThrough the highs and through the lows\nThey will follow the echo, echo, echo, echo\nThey will follow the echo, echo, echo, echo"},
{"year": null, "title": "Diamond Style", "album": null, "lyrics": "Sometimes its hard to wake up in the morning\nMind full of demons, I don't wanna hear them anymore\nGot me heartbroken,fine, so many babies screaming\nCause they seeing destruction before they a see human being\nSo they start smoking weed, we'll never get our day\nUntil we learn to pray, keep our families in shape\nCause they all broke. and why do ghetto birds die\nBefore we learn to fly, some bodies else's child caught in guns\nSmoking weed, can all make a change\nSo I'm told, but I haven't seen the change unfold,\nI keep hoping please, if you prefer to breathe,\nCommunities in need of people that will lead\nKeep your eyes open, I can only say I'll try\nUntil the day I die\n\n\nNiggas don't know my style\nQuick to smile juvenile, was a problem child\nTry to put me in the courts but my force was wild\nBitchmade ass niggas don't know my style,\nThese niggas don't know my style\nQuick to smile juvenile, was a problem child\nTry to put me in the courts but my force was wild\nBitchmade ass niggas don't know my style\nI could be wrong but I never got along with cops\n\n\nPutting money on my head\nGo on and get your refund motherfucker, I ain't dead I'm the diamond in the dirt,\nThat ain't been found I'm the underground king and\nI ain't been crowned When I rhyme, something special happen every time\nI'm the greatest, something like\nAli in his prime\nI walk the block with the bundles I've been knocked on the humble\nSwing the ox when I rumble Show your ass what my gun do\nGot a temper nigga, go ahead, lose your head\nTurn your back on me, get clapped and lose your legs\nI walk around gun on my waist, chip on my shoulder\nTill I bust a clip in your face, pussy, this beef ain't over\nIf it wasn't for rain Joy wouldn't feel so good, if it wasn't for pain\n\n\nNiggas don't know my style\nQuick to smile juvenile, was a problem child\nTry to put me in the courts but my force was wild\nBitchmade ass niggas don't know my style,\nThese niggas don't know my style\nQuick to smile juvenile, was a problem child\nTry to put me in the courts but my force was wild\nBitchmade ass niggas don't know my style\nI could be wrong but I never got along with cops\n\n\nLet's pretend Marshall Mathers never picked up a pen\nLet's pretend things would have been no different\nPretend he procrastinated, had no motivation\nPretend he just made excuses that were so paper thin they could blow away with the wind\nMarshall, you're never gonna make it makes no sense to play the game there ain't no way that you'll win\nPretend he just stayed outside all day and played with his friends\nPretend he even had a friend to say was his friend\nAnd it wasn't time to move and schools weren't changing again\nHe wasn't socially awkward and just strange as a kid\nHe had a father and his mother wasn't crazy as shit\nAnd he never dreamed he could rip stadiums and just lazy as shit\nFuck a talent show in a gymnasium, bitch, you won't amount to shit quit daydreaming kid\nYou need to get your cranium checked you thinking like an alien and just ain't realistic\nNow pretend they ain't just make him angry with this shit\nAnd there was no one he could even aim when he's pissed it\nAnd his alarm went off to wake him but he didn't make it to the Rap Olympics\nSlept through his plane and he missed it\nHe's gon' have a hard time explaining to Hailie and Lainie these food stamps and this WIC shit\nCause he never risked shit he hoped and he wished it but it didn't fall in his lap so he ain't even here\nHe pretends that"},
{"year": null, "title": "Listen To Your Heart", "album": null, "lyrics": "I know there\u2019s something in the wake of your smile\nI get a notion from the look in your eyes, yeah\nWe\u2019ve built a love but that love falls apart\nA little piece of heaven turns to dark\nListen to your heart\n\nThere's a certain mystique when I speak,\nthat you notice that it's sorta unique,\ncause you know it's me, my poetry's deep,\nand I'm still matic the way I flow to this beat,\nyou can't sit still, it's like tryin to smoke crack\nand go to sleep, I'm strapped,\njust knowing any minute I could snap,\nI'm the equivalent of what would happen if Bush rapped,\nI bully these rappers so bad lyrically,\nit ain't even funny, I ain't even hungry,\nit ain't even money, you can't pay me enough\nfor you to play me, it's cockamamie,\nyou just ain't zany enough to rock with Shady,\nmy noodle is cockadoodle, my clocks cuckoo,\nI got screws loose, yeahhh, the whole kitten-kaboodle,\nI'm just brutal. It's no rumor, I'm numero uno, assume it,\nthere's no humor in it no more, you know\nI'm rollin with a swollen bowling ball in my bag,\nyou need a fag to come and tear a new hole in my ass\n\n\n\nThere used to be a time when, you could just say a rhyme and\nWouldn't have to worry about one of your people dying\nBut now it's elevated, cause once you put someone's kids in it\nThe shit gets escalated, it ain't just words no more is it?\nIt's a different ball game, you call names and you ain't just rapping\nWe actually tried to stop the 50 and Ja beef from happening\nMe and Dre had sat with him, kicked it and had a chat with him\nAnd asked him not to start it, he wasn't going to go after him\nUntil Ja started yapping in magazines how he stabbed him\nFuck it, 50 smash him, mash him and let him have it\nMeanwhile my attention's pulled in another direction\nSome receptionist at the Source who answers phones at his desk\nHas an erection for me and thinks that I'll be his resurrection\nTries to blow the dust off his mic and make a new record\nBut now he's fucked the game up, cause one of the ways I came up\nWas through that publication, the same one that made me famous\nNow the owner of it has got a grudge against me for nothing?\n\n\n\nI remember back one year when daddy had no money\nMommy wrapped the Christmas presents up\nAnd stuck 'em under the tree and said some of 'em were from me\nCause daddy couldn't buy 'em\nI'll never forget that Christmas I sat up the whole night crying\nCause daddy felt like a bum, see daddy had a job\nBut his job was to keep the food on the table for you and mom\nAnd at the time every house that we lived in\nEither kept getting broken into and robbed\nOr shot up on the block and your mom was saving money for you in a jar\nTryna start a piggy bank for you so you could go to college\nAlmost had a thousand dollars til someone broke in and stole it\nAnd I know it hurt so bad it broke your momma's heart\nAnd it seemed like everything was just startin' to fall apart"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Guilty Conscience", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "Meet Eddie, twenty-three years old.\nFed up with life and the way things are going,\nhe decides to rob a liquor store.\n(\"I can't take this no more, I can't take it no more homes\")\nBut on his way in, he has a sudden change of heart.\nAnd suddenly, his conscience comes into play...\n(\"Shit is mine, I gotta do this.. gotta do this\")\n\n\nAlright, stop! (Huh?)\nNow before you walk in the door of this liquor store\nand try to get money out the drawer\nYou better think of the consequence (But who are you?)\nI'm your motherfuckin conscience\n\n\nThat's nonsense!\nGo in and gaffle the money and run to one of your aunt's cribs\nAnd borrow a damn dress, and one of her blonde wigs\nTell her you need a place to stay \nYou'll be safe for days if you shave your legs with Renee's razor blade\n\n\nYeah but if it all goes through like it's supposed to\nThe whole neighborhood knows you and they'll expose you\nThink about it before you walk in the door first\nLook at the store clerk, she's older than George Burns\n\n\nFuck that! Do that shit! Shoot that bitch!\nCan you afford to blow this shit? Are you that rich?\nWhy you give a fuck if she dies? Are you that bitch?\nDo you really think she gives a fuck if you have kids?\n\n\nMan, don't do it, it's not worth it to risk it! (You're right!)\nNot over this shit (Stop!) Drop the biscuit (I will!)\nDon't even listen to Slim yo, he's bad for you\n(You know what Dre? I don't like your attitude..)\n\n\n\n(\"It's alright c'mon, just come in here for a minute\")\n(\"Mmm, I don't know!\")\n(\"Look baby..\")\n(\"Damn!\")\n(\"Yo, it's gonna be alright, right?\")\n(\"Well OK..\")\n\n\nMeet Stan, twenty-one years old. (\"Give me a kiss!\")\nAfter meeting a young girl at a rave party,\nthings start getting hot and heavy in an upstairs bedroom.\nOnce again, his conscience comes into play... (\"Shit!\")\n\n\nNow listen to me, while you're kissin her cheek\nand smearin her lipstick, I slipped this in her drink\nNow all you gotta do is nibble on this little bitch's earlobe..\n(Yo! This girl's only fifteen years old\nYou shouldn't take advantage of her, that's not fair)\nYo, look at her bush.. does it got hair? (Uh huh!)\nFuck this bitch right here on the spot bare\nTil she passes out and she forgot how she got there\n(Man, ain't you ever seen that one movie _Kids_?)\nNo, but I seen the porno with SunDoobiest!\n(Shit, you wanna get hauled off to jail?)\nMan fuck that, hit that shit raw dawg and bail..\n\n\n\n\n\nMeet Grady, a twenty-nine year old construction worker.\nAfter coming home from a hard day's work,\nhe walks in the door of his trailer park home\nto find his wife in bed with another man.\n(\"WHAT THE FUCK?!?!\")\n(\"Grady!!\")\n\n\nAlright calm down, relax, start breathin..\n\n\nFuck that shit, you just caught this bitch cheatin\nWhile you at work she's with some dude tryin to get off?!\nFUCK slittin her throat, CUT THIS BITCH'S HEAD OFF!!!\n\n\nWait! What if there's an explanation for this shit?\n(What? She tripped? Fell? Landed on his dick?!)\nAlright Shady, maybe he's right Grady\nBut think about the baby before you get all crazy\n\n\nOkay! Thought about it, still wanna stab her?\nGrab her by the throat, get your daughter and kidnap her?\nThat's what I did, be smart, don't be a retard\nYou gonna take advice from somebody who slapped DEE BARNES??!\n\n\nWhat'chu say? (What's wrong? Didn't think I'd remember?)\nI'ma kill you motherfucker!\n\n\nUhhh-aahh! Temper temper!\nMr. Dre? Mr. N.W.A.?\nMr. AK comin' straight outta Compton y'all better make way?\nHow in the fuck you gonna tell this man not to be violent?\n\n\nCause he don't need to go the same route that I went\nBeen there, done that.. aw fuck it...\nWhat am I sayin? Shoot em both Grady, where's your gun at?"},
{"year": null, "title": "My Name Is (Bootleg Version)", "album": null, "lyrics": "Hi! My name is.. (what?) My name is.. (who?)\nMy name is.. {scratches} Slim Shady\nHi! My name is.. (huh?) My name is.. (what?)\nMy name is.. {scratches} Slim Shady\n\nAhem.. excuse me!\nCan I have the attention of the class for one second?\n\n\nHi kids! Do you like violence? (Yeah yeah yeah!)\nWanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails through each one of my eyelids? (Uh-huh!)\nWanna copy me and do exactly like I did? (Yeah yeah!)\nTry 'cid and get fucked up worse that my life is? (Huh?)\nMy brain's dead weight, I'm tryin to get my head straight\nbut I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate (Ummmm..)\nAnd Dr. Dre said, \"Slim Shady you a basehead!\"\nUh-uhhh! \"So why's your face red? Man you wasted!\"\nWell since age twelve, I've felt like I'm someone else\nCause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt\nGot pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off\nAnd smacked her so hard I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross\nI smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass\nfaster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast\nC'mere slut! (Shady, wait a minute, that's my girl dog!)\nI don't give a fuck, God sent me to piss the world off!\n\n\n\n\nMy English teacher wanted to have sex in junior high\nThe only problem was my English teacher was a guy\nI smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler\nand stapled his nuts to a stack of paper (Owwwwwwww!)\nWalked in the strip club, had my jacket zipped up\nFlashed the bartender, then stuck my dick in the tip cup (Wsssshhhhh...)\nExtraterrestrial, killin pedestrians\nRapin lesbians while they screamin: \"LET'S JUST BE FRIENDS!\"\nNinety-nine percent of my life I was lied to\nI just found out my mom does more dope than I do\nI told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper\nMake a record about doin drugs and name it after her (Oh thank you!)\nYou know you blew up when the women rush your stands\nand try to touch your hands like some screamin Usher fans (Aaahhhhhh!)\nThis guy at White Castle asked for my autograph (Dude, can I get your autograph?)\nSo I signed it: 'Dear Dave, thanks for the support, ASSHOLE!'\n\n\n\n\nStop the tape! This kid needs to be locked away! (Get him!)\nDr. Dre, don't just stand there, OPERATE!\nI'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die\nI'll have to be carried inside the cemetery and buried alive\nAm I comin or goin? I can barely decide\nI just drank a fifth of vodka -- dare me to drive? (Go ahead)\nAll my life I was very deprived\nI ain't had a woman in years, and my palms are too hairy to hide\nClothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk (hachhh-too)\nI spit when I talk, I'll fuck anything that walks (C'mere)\nWhen I was little I used to get so hungry I would throw fits\nHOW YOU GONNA BREAST FEED ME MOM? (WAH!) YOU AIN'T GOT NO TITS! (WAH!)\nI lay awake and strap myself in the bed\nPut a bulleproof vest on and shoot myself in the head (BANG!)\nI'm steamin mad (Arrrggghhh!)\nAnd by the way when you see my dad? (Yeah?)\nTell him that I slit his throat, in this dream I had"},
{"year": null, "title": "Nail In The Coffin", "album": null, "lyrics": "This motherfucker man, just won't shut up will you?\nTalk about I owe you, bitch you owe me\nI'm promoting you right now\nMan lets put the nail in his coffin\n\n\nI dont want to be like this\nI dont really want to hurt no feelins\nBut Im only bein real when I say nobody wants to hear their grandfather rap\nOld men have heart attacks\nand I dont want to be responsible for that so\nPut the mic down and walk away\nYou can still have a little bit of dignity\n\n\nI would never claim to be no Ray Benzino\nan 83 year old fake Pachino\nSo how can he hold me over some balcony\nwithout throwin his lower back out as soon as he goes to lift me\nPlease dont, youl probably fall with me\nand our asses will both be history\nBut then again youl'll finally get your wish\ncuz youl be all over the street like 50 Cent\nFuckin punk pussy fuck you chump\ngimme a one-on-one see if I dont fuck you up\nTryin to jump the Ruff Ryders and they cut you up\nAnd you put Jada on a track thats how much you suck\ndick in the industry, swear that you in the streets hustlin\nYou sit behind a fuckin desk at The Source butt-kissin\nand beggin motherfuckers for guest appearences\nand you can even get the clearances cuz real lyricists\ndont even respect you or take you serious\nIts not that we dont like you, we hate you - period\nTalk about a mid-life crisis damn\nlast week you was shakin Obie Trice's hand\nNow hes a busta? What the fucks with that?\nGet on a track dissin us kissin 50's ass\nand askin me what I know about inditements-bite me\nbitch I got two cases, and probation - fight me!\nWhat do I know about standin in front of a judge like a man\nready to take whatever sentence he hands\nWhat you know about your wife slicin her wrists\nright in front of the only thing you have in this world - a little girl?\nAnd I put that on her, when this is all over\nI would never try to make her a star and eat off her\nI dont know shit about no shoppin rocks\nBut what you know about hip-hop shops rockin spots?\nWhen your the only white boy in that bitch just rippin\npressin up your own flyers and your stickers stickin\nthem bitches up after spendin six hours at Kinkos\nJust makin copys of your covers of cassette singles\nand sell them out the trunk of your Tracer\nSpendin your whole paycheck at Disc Makers\nWhat you know about bein bullied over half your life?\nOh thats right, you know what thats like, your half white\nVanilla Ice,spill the beans and rice, I'm eating you alive inside\nJesus Christ, if your that much of a gangster, put the mic down\nYou should be out killin motherfuckers right now\nKill a motherfucker dead, kill'em dead bitch\nShoot'em in the fuckin head, go ahead bitch\nSlap my mom, slap the f*ck outa her!\nShe cant sue you, she wouldnt get a buck out of you\nCuz your broke as fuck you suck your a fuckin joke\nIf you was really sellin coke, well then what the fuck\nyou stop for dummy? If you slew some crack\nyou'd make alot more money than you do from rap\nYou never had no security, you'll never be famous\nYou'l never now what its like to be rich, lifes a bitch aint it?\nRaymond, here, let me break this shit down in lamens\nterms for you just to make sure that you can understand this\nand Canibus they usin too many complicated fuckin words for you\nHere then let me slow it down for you\nso you can understand if I say it slower:\nLet it go dawg it's over\n\n\n\n\nHaha\nTalkin bout I have motherfuckers callin your crib\nbitch you aint even got a fuckin crib\nYou aint even got a fuckin phone, fuckin Bum\nThreatened to shut me down at your little fuckin Source magazine\nif I come back then you would attack me, bitch you attacked me first\ntake it like a man and shut the fuck up\nand fuck your little magazine too\nI dont need your fuckin magazine, I got XXL number anywayz\nAnd yall cant stand it cuz there gettin bigger than yall\noh, and by the way, howed I look on the VMAs?\nWhen you was watchin me from whatever fuckin TV you was watchin me from in Boston\nThe mean streets of Boston, fuckin sissy\nLike you got us scared in the motherfucker, suck our motherfuckin dicks\nOh, and for those thats dont know, dont get it twisted yo, the Source has a white owner"},
{"year": null, "title": "Kings Never Die", "album": null, "lyrics": "Here to stay\nEven when I'm gone\nWhen I close my eyes\nThrough the passage of time\nKings never die\n\n\nI can hear the drummer drumming\nAnd the trumpets, someone's tryna summon someone, I know somethin's coming\nBut I'm runnin' from it to be standing at the summit\nAnd plummet, how come it wasn't what I thought it was\nWas it, too good to be true?\nHave nothin', get it all but too much of it\nThen lose it again, did I swallow hallucinogens\nCause if not, where the hell did it go?\nCause here I sit in Lucifer\u2019s den by the dutch oven\nJust choosing to sin\nEven if it means I'm sellin' my soul, just to be the undisputed again\nDo whatever I gotta do just to win\nCause I got this motherfuckin' cloud over my head\nCrown around it, thorns on it\nCracks in it, bet you morons didn't think I'd be back, did ya?\nHow 'bout that, I\u2019m somehow now back to the underdog\nBut no matter how loud that I bark, this sport is somethin' I never bow-out at\nI complain about the game, I shout and I pout, it's a love-hate\nBut I found out that I can move a mountain of doubt\nEven when you bitches are countin' me out, and I appear to be down for the count\nOnly time I ever been out and about\nIs drivin' around town with my fuckin' whereabouts in a doubt\nCause I been lost tryna think of what I did to get here but I'm not a quitter\nGotta get up, give it all I got or give up\nSpit on, shit on, stepped on, but kept goin'\nI'm tryna be headstrong but it feels like I slept on my neck wrong\nCause you're moving onto the next, but is the respect gone?\nCause someone told me that\n(Kings never die)\n\n\nDon't give me that sob story liar, don't preach to the choir\nYou ain't never even had to reach in the fire to dig deep\nNobody ever handed me shit in life, not even a flyer\nWouldn't even take shit into consideration\nObliterate anyone in the way\nI think I see why a lot of rappers get on these features and try to show out on a track with me\nBut it'd actually have to be a fuckin' blow-out to get me to re-tire\nTell these new artists that kings never die\nI know shit has changed in this age, fuck a Twitter page\nDid it just say I've been upstaged?\nWhy am I online? It's driving me crazy\nI'm ridin' shotgun tryna get a gauge\nOn what's hot, but I'm not one to conform\nBut as days pass in this shit\nAnd opinions sway, I can hear 'em say\nIf I stay passionate maybe I can stage a miraculous\nComeback as if I went away\nBut detractors just say so much for the Renegade\nSomeone's gonna make me blow my composure\nHere I go again, center stage and I feel like I'm in a cage\nThey so want a champion to fall\nIt's no wonder why I laugh at 'em, cause why can't we win 'em all?\nSo fuck what these cynics say\n(It) just goes ta show that when my back's against the wall\nAnd I'm under a tack again, that I'll act as if I'm 'posed ta\nWith this pent up rage, cause all these plaques in my office\nOn the floor stacked against the door\nAre they just metaphors for the odds of me comin' back again?\nCause all the accomplishments, accolades, awards\nAnd trophies just don't mean jack anymore\nIf I'm here today and gone tomorrow\nAnd I'm not gonna be\n\n\nHere to stay\nEven when I'm gone\nWhen I close my eyes\nThrough the passage of time\nKings never die\n\n\nI want it, I'm comin' to get it\nSo you son of a bitches don't duck you\u2019re gonna get Riddick Bowe\u2019d\nCritics'll end up in critical, think your shit is dope all you're gonna get is smoked\nAnd I'm not stopping 'til I'm on top again, all alone and on a throne\nLike a token of respect, or a homage poem, or an ode I've been owed\nTossed in the air by my own arm, and launched so hard it broke my collarbone\nAnd when it's my time to go, I'm still not leaving\nStop for no one, I don't know but I've been told an obstacle that\nBlocks your road, knock it over, time to go for that pot of gold, cause\n\n\nThey say kings never die\nJust ask Jam Master Jay\nThey just grow wings and they fly\nSo, hands up, reach for the sky\nTry to hold and prolong these moments\nCause in a blink of an eye\nThey'll be over\n\n\nTryna secure your legacy like Shakur\nAnd ensure nobody's ever gonna be what you were\nSo before you're leavin' this Earth\nYou want people to feel the fury of a pure evil cerebral, berserk\nDeacon of words, syllable genius at work\nPlus I'm thinkin' that they're mistakin' my kindness for weakness, kill 'em with meanness\nI went from powdered milk and Farina\nTo flippin' burgers on the grill for some peanuts\nFrom Gilbert's to arenas, call me Gilbert Arenas, still appeal to the dreamers\nI made it to the silverscreen but Rocky's still what the theme is\nKhalil on the beat cause makin' the beat ain\u2019t the same feelin' to me as killin' the beat is\nOr fulfillin' to me is what fillin' a seat is\nIt's that \"Sound Bombing\" Thirstin' Howl\nCommon, underground, Diamond D, Outsidaz\nStomach growl, throbbin' hunger, out-rhymin' everyone\nGod just give me one shot, I swear that I won't let you down\nI'mma be around forever-and-a-day, even in the ground\nYou ain't never ever gonna hear 'em say I ain't\n\n\nHere to stay\nEven when I'm gone\nWhen I close my eyes\nThrough the passage of time\nKings never die"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "My Name Is", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "Hi! My name is... (what?) My name is... (who?)\nMy name is...  Slim Shady\nHi! My name is... (huh?) My name is... (what?)\nMy name is...  Slim Shady\n\nAhem... excuse me!\nCan I have the attention of the class for one second?\n\n\nHi kids! Do you like violence? (Yeah yeah yeah!)\nWanna see me stick Nine Inch Nails through each one of my eyelids? (Uh-huh!)\nWanna copy me and do exactly like I did? (Yeah yeah!)\nTry 'cid and get fucked up worse that my life is? (Huh?)\nMy brain's dead weight, I'm trying to get my head straight\nBut I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate (Ummmm...)\nAnd Dr. Dre said, \"Slim Shady you a basehead!\"\nUh-uhhh! \"So why's your face red? Man you wasted!\"\nWell since age twelve, I've felt like I'm someone else\nCause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt\nGot pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off\nAnd smacked her so hard I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross\nI smoke a fat pound of grass and fall on my ass\nFaster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast\nC'mere slut! (Shady, wait a minute, that's my girl dog!)\nI don't give a fuck, God sent me to piss the world off!\n\n\n\n\nMy English teacher wanted to flunk me in Junior High\nThanks a lot, next semester I'll be thirty-five\nI smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler\nAnd stapled his nuts to a stack of papers (Owwwwwwww!)\nWalked in the strip club, had my jacket zipped up\nFlashed the bartender, then stuck my dick in her tip cup\nExtraterrestrial runnin' over pedestrians\nIn a space ship while they screaming at me: \"LET'S JUST BE FRIENDS!\"\nNinety-nine percent of my life I was lied to\nI just found out my mom does more dope than I do (Damn!)\nI told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper\nMake a record about doing drugs and name it after her (Oh thank you!)\nYou know you blew up when the women rush your stands\nAnd try to touch your hands like some screaming Usher fans (Aaahhhhhh!)\nThis guy at White Castle asked for my autograph\n(Dude, can I get your autograph?)\nSo I signed it: 'Dear Dave, thanks for the support, ASSHOLE!'\n\n\n\n\nStop the tape! This kid needs to be locked away! (Get him!)\nDr. Dre, don't just stand there, OPERATE!\nI'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die (Fuck that!)\nI'll have to be carried inside the cemetery and buried alive (Huh yup!)\nAm I coming or going? I can barely decide\nI just drank a fifth of vodka - dare me to drive? (Go ahead)\nAll my life I was very deprived\nI ain't had a woman in years, and my palms are too hairy to hide (Whoops!)\nClothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk (hachhh-too)\nI spit when I talk, I'll fuck anything that walks (C'mere)\nWhen I was little I used to get so hungry I would throw fits\nHow you gonna breast feed me mom? (Wah!)\nYou ain't got no tits! (Wahhh!)\nI lay awake and strap myself in the bed\nWith a bulletproof vest on and shoot myself in the head (BANG!)\nI'm steaming mad (Arrrggghhh!)\nAnd by the way when you see my dad? (Yeah?)\nTell him that I slit his throat, in this dream I had"},
{"year": null, "title": "Thru The Fire", "album": null, "lyrics": "I am going up\nI am going all the way through the fire\nI get up and go higher \nSo please don\u2019t bring me down\nAnd nothing is gonna bring me down\nI am going all the way thru the fire\nI will get up and then go higher\nSo please don\u2019t knock me down\nAnd nothing is gonna knock me down\n \n\nNow I ain\u2019t got no kids yet,\nBut this one here is for practice\nI hate to get the seats in Benz wet.\nBut that\u2019s how good your ass is.\nMake an old man get his glasses.\nMake Wesley pay his taxes\nThen follow ur moves all weak on Twitter\nProbably make a gay nigga consider.\nYou rocking now with the best Mayne. (man)\nDress game down to the sex game\nWon\u2019t brag but the boy has been blessed with the blessed mayne\nLet you play with the stick ovechkayne.\nShe\u2019s calling, she\u2019s texting\nShe\u2019s falling but let me explain\nGotta tell your old boyfriend \nSkate girl\nCauz a nigga don\u2019t play them ex games.\nNo! Straight sexing\nNo handcuffs or arresting\nAnd I ain\u2019t coming off my last name.\nCauz I really can\u2019t take no stressing\nBout where I done been\nWho I done hit\nYour home girl saying \nHe\u2019s a bad boy\nBout where I done been\nWho I done hit\nYour home girl saying \nHe\u2019s a bad boy\n\nShe said\nI heard you got a main chick\nA mistress and some hoes\nYou be up to no good\nAnd every body knows\n\nI can\u2019t get enough of what you got\nGood god\nYou hit the spot\nTried to let go but I just could not\nSo don\u2019t you stop I need that\n\nHey globetrotter,\nCole hotter\nEither way\nOut in London town\nHoes holla Cauz they love my sound\nAnd I got love for the underground.\nKweli pimp C hot town\nWhere bun gets down\nMet a bad bitch \nThat\u2019ll cut all night\nThat\u2019ll suck all night\nYou just, cut off lights\nNever fuss or fight \nAlmost missed my flight\nTryna give my last girl a nut\nAll Right?\nShe be down for whatever \nWhenever I wanna get up in the guts\nAll Right?\n\nOn the grynd tryna find\nThis lettuce\nI love it when you give me head\nI hate it when you give me headaches\n\n\nI am going up\nI am going all the way through the fire\nI get up and go higher \nSo please don\u2019t bring me down\nAnd nothing is gonna bring me down\nI am going all the way thru the fire\nI will get up and still get higher\nSo please don\u2019t knock me down\nAnd nothing is gonna knock me down \n  \n\nNobody asked for life to deal us\nWith these bullshit hands we are dealt\nWe have to take these cards ourselves\nAnd flip them. Don\u2019t expect no help\nNow I could have \nEither just\nSat on my ass\nAnd pissed and moaned\nOr take this situation in which I am placed in\nAnd get up and get my own\nI was never the type of kid\nTo wait by the door and pack his bags\nWho sat on the posch hoped and prayed \nFor a dad to show who never did\nI just wanted to fit in\nAt every single place\nEvery school I went\nI dreamed of being that cool kid\nEven if it means acting stupid\nAunt Edna always told me\nKeep making\nThat face it\u2019ll get stuck like that\nMeanwhile I am just standing\nThere holding\nMy tongue tryna talk like this\nTill I stuck my tongue \nOn that\nFrozen stop sign pole at 8 years old\nI learned my lesson then\nCauz I wasn\u2019t tryna impress my friends no more\nBut I already told you my whole life story\nNot just based on my description\nCauz where you see it from where you are sitting\nIts probably 110% different\nI guess we would have to walk a mile\nIn each others shoes\nAt least \nWhat size you wear??\nI wear tens\nLet\u2019s see if you can fit your feet\n\n\nI am going up\nI am going all the way through the fire\nI get up and go higher \nSo please don\u2019t bring me down\nAnd nothing is gonna bring me down\nI am going all the way thru the fire\nI will get up and then go higher\nSo please don\u2019t knock me down\nAnd nothing is gonna knock me down"},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Brain Damage", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "Scalpel\n Here\n Sponge\n Here\n Wait.. he's convulsing, he's convulsing!\n Ah!\n We're gonna have to shock him!\n Oh my! Oh my God!\n We're gonna have to shock him!\n Oh my God!\n\n\nThese are the results of a thousand electric volts\nA neck with bolts, \"Nurse we're losin him, check the pulse!\"\nA kid who refused to respect adults\nWore spectacles with taped frames and a freckled nose\nA corny lookin white boy, scrawny and always ornery\nCause I was always sick of brawny bullies pickin on me\nAnd I might snap, one day just like that\nI decided to strike back and flatten every tire on the bike rack\n(Whosssssh) My first day in junior high, this kid said,\n\"It's you and I, three o'clock sharp this afternoon you die\"\nI looked at my watch it was one twenty\n\"I already gave you my lunch money what more do you want from me?!?\"\nHe said, \"Don't try to run from me, you'll just make it worse...\"\nMy palms were sweaty, and I started to shake at first\nSomething told me, \"Try to fake a stomach ache it works\"\nI screamed, \"Owww! My appendix feels like they could burst!\nTeacher, teacher, quick I need a naked nurse!\"\n \"What's the matter?\"\n \"I don't know, my leg, it hurts!\"\n \"Leg?!? I thought you said it was your tummy?!?\"\n \"Oh, I mean it is, but I also got a bum knee!\"\n \"Mr. Mathers, the fun and games are over.\nAnd just for that stunt, you're gonna get some extra homework.\"\n \"But don't you wanna give me after school detention?\"\n \"Nah, that bully wants to beat your ass and I'ma let him.\"\n\n\n\nBrain damage, ever since the day I was born\nDrugs is what they used to say I was on\nThey say I never knew which way I was goin\nBut everywhere I go they keep playin my song\n\n\nBrain damage..\nWay before my baby daughter Hailey\nI was harassed daily by this fat kid named D'Angelo Bailey\nAn eighth grader who acted obnoxious, cause his father boxes\nso everyday he'd shove me in the lockers\nOne day he came in the bathroom while I was pissin\nAnd had me in the position to beat me into submission\nHe banged my head against the urinal til he broke my nose,\nSoaked my clothes in blood, grabbed me and choked my throat\nI tried to plead and tell him, \"We shouldn't beef\"\nBut he just wouldn't leave, he kept chokin me and I couldn't breathe\nHe looked at me and said, \"You gonna die honkey!\"\nThe principal walked in (What's going on in here?)\nand started helpin him stomp me\nI made them think they beat me to death\nHoldin my breath for like five minutes before they finally left\nThen I got up and ran to the janitor's storage booth\nKicked the door hinge loose and ripped out the four inch screws\nGrabbed some sharp objects, brooms, and foreign tools\n\"This is for every time you took my orange juice,\nor stole my seat in the lunchroom and drank my chocolate milk.\nEvery time you tipped my tray and it dropped and spilt.\nI'm gettin you back bully! Now once and for good.\"\nI cocked the broomstick back and swung hard as I could\nand beat him over the head with it til I broke the wood\nKnocked him down, stood on his chest with one foot..\n.. Made it home, later that same day\nStarted reading a comic, and suddenly everything became gray\nI couldn't even see what I was tryin to read\nI went deaf, and my left ear started to bleed\nMy mother started screamin, \"What are you on, drugs?!?\nLook at you, you're gettin blood all over my rug!\" (Sorry!)\nShe beat me over the head with the remote control\nopened a hole, and my whole brain fell out of my skull\nI picked it up and screamed, \"Look bitch, what have you done?!?\"\n \"Oh my God, I'm sorry son\"\n \"Shut up you cunt!\" I said, \"Fuck it!\"\nTook it and stuck it back up in my head\nthen I sewed it shut and put a couple of screws in my neck\n\n\n\n\nBrain damage..\nIt's brain damage..\nI got brain damage..\nIt's brain damage..\nIt's probably brain damage..\nIt's brain damage..\nBrain damage..\nI got brain damage.."},
{"year": null, "title": "The Sauce", "album": null, "lyrics": "Its all bad now man, its all bad\r\nBut yal done fucked up now\r\nYeah ha ha, new shit, hey yo\r\nI just want the whole world to know:\r\nThat I did not start this, but I will finish it\r\n\r\n\r\nComin up it never mattered what color you was\r\nIf you could spit then you could spit, thats it, thats what it was\r\nBack when, motherf*ckers was straight back packin\r\nCypherin, fightin for life in this rap\r\nfor the mic to get past and you psyched and you gasped\r\nand you hyped cuz you last and you might whoop some ass\r\nIf you lost then you lost shake hands like a man\r\nand you swallowed it, when the unsigned hype column\r\nat The Source was like, the only source of light\r\nWhen the mics used to mean somethin, a four was like\r\nyou were the shit, now its like the least you get\r\nthree and a half now just means you a piece of shit\r\nfour and a half or five, means you Biggie, Jigga, Nas,\r\nor Benzino I dont think you even realize\r\nyou playin with motherf*ckers lives, I done watched Dre\r\nget ****ed on The Chronic, probably cuz I was on it\r\nNow you fucked me outa my mics twice I let it slide\r\nI said I wouldnt hold my f*cken breath to get a five\r\nSh*t I was right, Ida f*ckin died already tryin\r\nI swear to God I never lie I bet thats why\r\nyou let that b*tch give me that bullsh*t review\r\nI sat and took it, I aint look at the sh*t we knew\r\nYou'd probly try to f*ck us with Obie and 50 too\r\nF*ck a relationship we through\r\nNo more Source with street cred, them days is dead\r\nDre's got A-Ks to Dave May's head\r\nEvery issue there's an eight page Made-Mens spread\r\nWill somebody please tell whoever braids his head\r\nThat I am not afraid, hes just a f*ckin waste of lead\r\non my pencil, for me to write some sh*t this simple\r\nSo listen closely, as I break it down and proceed\r\nThis old Gs bout to get smoked like rolled weed\r\nYou dont know me or my motherf*ckin mother you motherf*ckin punk\r\nPut me on your fuckin cover just to sell your little sell out mag\r\nI aint mad I feel bad, heres an ad, heres a poster of Ray-Ray and his dad\r\nYou wanna talk about some sh*t that you dont know about? ya\r\nLets talk about how your puttin you own son out there\r\nTo try to eat off him, cuz you missed your boat\r\nYour never gonna blow b*tch your just too old\r\nNo wonder your sore now lordy your bored now\r\nIm pushin thirty your kickin fourty's door down\r\nB*tch this is war now, and youl never beat me\r\nall you do is cheat me out of QUATABLES but you know\r\nthat youl always see me on your TV\r\nCuz you gotta stay up till three in the mornin\r\nTo see your video played once on bet\r\nSo he-he-he who has the last laugh?\r\nAftermath ya so on behalf on our whole staff\r\nkiss our ass-hole cracks we'll never fold or hold back\r\nJust know that Benzinos wack\r\nno matter how many times I say his name, hell never blow jack\r\nYour better off tryin to bring R-S-O back\r\nLook at your track record thats how far it goes back\r\nIts extortion n Ray own's a proportion\r\nso half of the staff up there is fresh outta jail from boston\r\nBullyin and bossin, Dave like a slave they've completely brainwashed him\r\nAnd forced him to stay locked in his own office afraid of the softest\r\nfakest, wannabe gangster in New York\r\nAnd its pitiful, cuz I would have never said sh*t to you if you'd have kept your mouth shut\r\nB*tch now what? Hit it Clue, spit it Slay\r\nNew sh*t, exclusive, yo Lantern, Whoo Kid\r\nYou know what to do with this: use it\r\nIm through, this is stupid, I cant believe I stooped to this\r\nbullsh*t to do this...\r\n\r\nAnd who you callin a b*tch? B*tch. You owe me."},
{"year": null, "title": "No Love (Remix)", "album": null, "lyrics": "Yeah\nI'm in a different space in my life you know\nIt's a real good space too\nAyo Eminem I like this song man\nBy the time y'all hear this, Weezy probably be home\nWelcome home Weezy\nReek Da Villain what up\nAyo\nLet me tell y'all niggers about one of the little tough guy dreams i had the other night\n\nLook\nFirst I stop and then I drop and then cock another heater, pop another litre from another clip\nHe thought he was a creature that could never never ever ever ever ever ever get his shit popped off (Get his block knocked off)\nWhen a nigger come and when a nigger front, gotta give it to him good, give a nigger what he wants\nAnd if a nigger act up, shoot him in the head, in the face, in the stomach, in the foot or the heart\nYou don't want it homie, you don't wanna start especially when mo'fucker see the gun fire spark\nWhen I got the gun up in ya mouth, I'll make a nigger gun talk \nBush Rhymes Reek (black)\nImma hit him in the front homie hit him in the back\nKeep on hitting that nigger in the chest cavity till the motherfucker layng down flat\nFreeze motherfucker look\nTrust me Imma make a nigger sit still\nAnytime I gotta defend a fool nigger, it don't matter what it is, homie I will\nBeat a nigger til you probably can't figure it out, I identify the mo'fucker on the reel\nWord on everything a nigger really love, it don't matter who it is, homie I kill\nBut now I'm finally waking up out of the dream and I realise that life is so beautiful\nAnd I ain't gotta put my hand on a nigger, unless it's definitely necessary otherwise it's unsuitable\nHa, going through a lot of different little things that make a nigger want to go and wanna get and wanna bring a couple goons out to handle a couple situations and let em elimination all the bullshit so I can sing\nRun through every city, run through every state\nThough we get a lot of love, I love to get a lot of hate\nThough the ones who will try to hate will start to love cause it's undeniable that everything I do is great, even when I do it wrong Imma share it in a song and I'm questioning the words in the end all along\nI guess I gotta die first return re-incarnated just to really see any other form\nUntil that time Imma sit and shine while I sit here with the grime, give me credit when it's mine 'fore I dent it with a 9 millimeter see the sign and the heater then I'm giving all my people get in line now \nYeah\nFor the one's that hated, tried to stop my growth from the light from a ball Imma fight homie grudge, it's a Kanye song see the way I make a mother fucker don't know love\n\nIt's a little too late to say that you're sorry now\nYou kicked me when I was down\nBut what you say, just (don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more)\nThat's right bitch: and I don't need you, don't want to see you\nBitch you get (no love)\nYou showed me nothing but hate\nYou ran me into the ground\nBut what comes around goes around\nI don't need you (don't hurt me)\nYou (don't hurt me no more)\nThat's right, and I don't need you, don't want to see you\nYou get (no love)\nBitch you get (no love)\nAnd I don't need you\nGet em\n\nI'm alive again\nMore alive than I have been in my whole entire life\nI can see these people's ears perk up as I begin\nTo spaz with the pen, I'm a little bit sicker than most\nShit's gonna get thick again\nThey say the competition is stiff\nBut I get a hard dick from this shit, now stick it in\nI ain't never giving in again\nCaution to the wind, complete freedom\nLook at these rappers, how I treat them\nSo why the fuck would I join them when I beat them\nThey call me a freak because\nI like to spit on these pussies 'fore I eat them\nMan get these whack cocksuckers off stage\nWhere the fuck is Kanye when you need him?\nSnatch the mic from him, bitch I'mma let you finish in a minute\nYeah that rap was tight\nBut I'm 'bout to spit the greatest verse of all time\nSo you might want to go back to the lab tonight and um\nScribble out them rhymes you were going to spit\nAnd start over from scratch and write new ones\nBut I'm afraid that it ain't gonna make no difference\nWhen I rip this stage and tear it in half tonight\nIt's an adrenaline rush to feel the bass thump\nIn the place all the way to the parking lot, fellow\nSet fire to the mic and ignite the crowd\nYou can see the sparks from hot metal\nCold-hearted from the day I Bogarted the game\nI so started to rock fellow\nWhen I'm not even in my harshest\nYou can still get roasted 'cause Marsh is not mellow\nTil I'm toppling from the top I'm not going to stop\nI'm standing on my Monopoly board\nThat means I'm on top of my game and it don't stop\nTil my hip don't hop anymore\nWhen you so good that you can't say it\nBecause it ain't even cool for you to sound cocky anymore\nPeople just get sick cause you spit\nThese fools can't drool or dribble a drop anymore\nAnd you can never break my stride\nYou never slow the momentum at any moment I'm about to blow\nYou'll never take my pride\nKilling the flow, slow venom and the opponent\nIs getting no mercy, mark my words\nAin't letting up, relentless\nI smell blood, I don't give a fuck: keep giving them hell\nWhere was you when I fell and needed help up?\nYou get no love\n\nIt's a little too late to say that you're sorry now\nYou kicked me when I was down\nBut what you say just (don't hurt me)\nThat's right, it (don't hurt me)\nI don't need ya (no more)\nDon't wanna see ya (no more)\nBitch you get no (love)\nYou showed me nothin' but hate\nYou ran me into the ground\nBut what comes around goes around (around)\nDon't hurt me (that's right)\nYou don't hurt me (and I don't need ya) no more\n(Don't wanna see ya) no more\nBitch you get no love (no), no love (no), no love (no)\nNo love\nBitch you get no love (no), no love (no), no love\nAnd I don't need ya (no more)\nBitch you get no (love)"},
{"year": null, "title": "Move On", "album": null, "lyrics": "They ask me am I ok\nThey ask me if I'm happy\nAre they asking me that because of the shit that's been thrown at me\nOr am I just a little snappy\nAnd they genuinely care\nDoody, most of my life its just been me and you there\nAnd I continuosly stare at pictures of you\nI never got to say I love you as much as I wanted to but I do\nYeah I say it now and you can't hear me\nWhat the fuck good does that do me now\nBut somehow I know you're near me in presence\nOh I went and drop some presents off to ease it to them\nTwo little beautiful boys of yours to try to ease their minds a little\nAnd dawg you'll never believe this\nBut Sharonda actually talks to me now\nJesus and everyone else is just tryna pick up the pieces\nMan how you touch so many fucking lives and just leave us\nThey say grievance has a way of affecting everyone different\nIf it's true, how the fuck am I supposed to get over you\nDifficult as it sounds...\n\n\nI See No Man Left In Them Mirror\nLife Seems So Hard\nI Feel Just To Give Up\nI Just Wanna Get On With My Life\nBut Its To Difficult\nI Just Spend My Day Drowning\nIn Sorrow\nAlone With My Thoughts\nI Ain't Got Time To Borrow\nI Just Wanna Get On With My Life\nBut Its To Difficult\n\n\nDoody, that's what we call each other\nI don't know where it came from but it just stuck with us\nWe was always brothers\nNever thought about each others' skin colours\nTil one day we was walking up the block in the summer\nIt was like 90 degrees, I was catching a sun burn\nTryna walk under the trees\nJust to give me some comfort\nI'm moaning I just wanna get home\nWhen I look over and your shirt is off\nI'm like you gonna fry and like\n\"No I won't, I'm black stupid\nAnd black people they got melatonin\nIn their skin, we don't burn\"\nMeanwhile, my face is glowing and I felt\nLike I'm on fire\nAnd the entire time you're just laughing at me\nAnd snapping at me with your shirt, bastard\nAnd I still have to get you back for that shit\nAnd by the way them playboy rings\nMy mother stole from you\nWell Nate finally got em back\nShit it must have been at least 16 years ago\nWell I put em in your cask-ahhh\nMoving past it, it still ain't registered yet\nBut you can bet your legacy they'll never forget\nThe motor city motown\nHip hop vet, hip hop shop, dreads\nIt don't stop there\nYeah, as difficult as it sounds...\n\n\nI See No Man Left In Them Mirror\nLife Seems So Hard\nI Feel Just To Give Up\nI Just Wanna Get On With My Life\nBut Its To Difficult\nI Just Spend My Day Drowning\nIn Sorrow\nAlone With My Thoughts\nI Ain't Got Time To Borrow\nI Just Wanna Get On With My Life\nBut Its To Difficult\n\n\nAnd this may sound a little strange but I'mma tell it\nI found that jacket that you left at my wedding\nAnd I picked it up to smell it\nI wrapped it up in plastic until I put it in glass\nAnd hang it up in the hallway so I can always look at it\nAnd as for all of me and D12 we feel like fuck rap\nIt feels like our General just fucking died in our lap\nWe shut off all our pages\nAll our cell numbers has changed\nOur two-ways are in the trash\nSo some cats will have to find a new way\nAnd I know that it feels like the dreams will die with you today\nBut the truth is there all still here and you ain't\nPurple Gang, you gotta keep pressing on\nDon't ever give up the dream dawg\nI got love for you all\nAnd Doody, it's true you bought people together who never\nWoulda been in the same room if it wasn't for you\nYou were the peacemaker Doody\nI know sometimes you were moody\nBut you hated confrontation\nAnd truly hated the feuding\nBut you were down for yours whenever it came to scrapping\nIf it had to happen, it had to happen\nBelieve me, I know you're the one who taught me to\nThrow them balls back on Dresden\nFrom making cars to paintballing\nGetting arrested\nTo sitting across from each other in cells laughing and jesting\nThey tried to hit us for 5 years for that, no question\nI guess them hookers and bums that we shot up\nDidn't show up for court\nSo we got off on a technicality, left sweating\nMe, you and what's his face\nI forgot his fucking name\nShame he even came to your funeral\nHe betrayed our team\nAnd if I see him again I'mma punch him in the fucking face\nAnd that's on Hallie Jade, Whitney Lane and Alaina's name\nI let the pistol bang once just to leak a shot in the air\nFor you and pour some liquor out for you with Obie in the parking lot of 54\nJust before we were supposed to get in cars\nTo come and see you once more\nDifficult as it sounds\n\n\nI See No Man Left In Them Mirror\nLife Seems So Hard\nI Feel Just To Give Up\nI Just Wanna Get On With My Life\nBut Its To Difficult\nI Just Spend My Day Drowning\nIn Sorrow\nAlone With My Thoughts\nI Ain't Got Time To Borrow\nI Just Wanna Get On With My Life\nBut Its To Difficult"},
{"year": null, "title": "Gone Again Pt. 2", "album": null, "lyrics": "Shut up and sing\nListen Gone Again.....\n\n \nHave you ever loved someone so much, you'd give an arm for?\nNot the expression, no, literally give an arm for?\nWhen they know they're your heart\nAnd you know you were their armour\nAnd you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her\nBut what happens when karma, turns right around and bites you?\nAnd everything you stand for, turns on you to spite you?\nWhat happens when you become the main source of her pain?\n\"Daddy look what I made\", Dad's gotta go catch a plane\n\"Daddy where's Mommy? I can't find Mommy where is she?\"\nI don't know go play Hailie, baby, your Daddy's busy\nDaddy's writing a song, this song ain't gonna write itself\nI'll give you one underdog then you gotta swing by yourself\nThen turn right around in that song and tell her you love her\nAnd put hands on her mother, who's a spitting image of her\nThat's Slim Shady, yeah baby, Slim Shady's crazy\nShady made me, but tonight Shady's rocka-by-baby...\n\n\nListen Gone Again\nStory of my life\nSearching for the right\nBut it keeps avoiding me\nListen Gone Again\nSorrow in my soul\nCause it seems that wrong\nReally loves my company\n\n\n\nThey say \"they never really miss you til you dead or you gone\"\nSo on that note I'm leaving after the song\nSo you ain't gotta feel no way about Jay so long\nAtleast let me tell you why I'm this way, Hold on\nI was conceived by Gloria Carter and Adaness Revees\nWho made love under the Siccamore tree \nWhich makes me\nA more sicker M.C. and my momma would claim\nAt 10 pounds when I was born I didn't give her no pain\nAlthough through the years I gave her her fair share\nI gave her her first real scare\nI made it from birth and I got here\nShe knows my purpose wasn't purpose\nI ain't perfect I care\nBut I feel worthless cause my shirts wasn't matchin my gear\nNow I'm just scratchin the surface cause what's burried under there\nWas a kid torn apart once his pop disappeared\nI went to school got good grades could behave when I wanted\nBut I had demons deep inside that would raise when confronted\nHold on\n\n\nListen Gone Again\nStory of my life\nSearching for the right\nBut it keeps avoiding me\nListen Gone Again\nSorrow in my soul\nCause it seems that wrong\nReally loves my company\n\n\n\nI keep having this dream, I'm pushin' Hailie on the swing\nShe keeps screaming, she don't want me to sing\n\"You're making Mommy cry, why? Why is Mommy crying?\"\nBaby, Daddy ain't leaving no more, \"Daddy you're lying\n\"You always say that, you always say this is the last time\n\"But you ain't leaving no more, Daddy you're mine\"\nShe's piling boxes in front of the door trying to block it\n\"Daddy please, Daddy don't leave, Daddy - no stop it!\"\nGoes in her pocket, pulls out a tiny necklace locket\nIt's got a picture, \"this'll keep you safe Daddy, take it withcha'\"\nI look up, it's just me standing in the mirror\nThese fuckin' walls must be talking, cuz man I can hear 'em\nThey're saying \"You've got one more chance to do right\" - and it's tonight\nNow go out there and show that you love 'em before it's too late\nAnd just as I go to walk out of my bedroom door\nIt turns to a stage, they're gone, and this spotlight is on\nAnd I'm singing...\n\n\nListen Gone Again\nStory of my life\nSearching for the right\nBut it keeps avoiding me\nListen Gone Again\nSorrow in my soul\nCause it seems that wrong\nReally loves my company\n\n\nListen Gone Again..."},
{"year": null, "title": "Till I Collapse (Remix)", "album": null, "lyrics": "Sometimes you just feel tired, feel weak\nWhen you feel weak, you feel like you just wanna just give up\nBut you gotta search within you, try and find that inner strength\nAnd just pull that shit out of you, and get that motivation not to give up\nAnd not be a quitter no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face.\n\n\nTill I collapse I'm spillin' these raps long as you feel 'em\nTill the day that I drop you'll never say that I'm not killin' 'em\nCause when I am not, then I'm a stop pinnin' 'em and\nI am not hip-hop and I'm just not Eminem\nSubliminal thoughts, when I'm a stop sendin'\n'em, women are caught in webs, spin 'em and hock venom\nAdrenaline shots of penicillin could not\nGet the illin' to stop, amoxacillin's just not real enough\n\n\nNow don't think I won't hit you, cause I'm popular\nI got a P-90-Roog that'll pop at ya\nCatch you slippin' I'm a give ya what I got for ya\nMy clip loaded for 16 shots for ya\nYa'never had a hot gun on ya waist or blood on ya shoes\nCause a nigga went and said the wrong shit to you\nHomie you ain't been through\nWhat I been through\nYou not like me\nAnd I'm not like you\nI'm like a animal when I spit it's crazy\nGot semi-autos that put wholes in niggas tryna play me\nOne shot is not enough, you need at least an oozie to move me\nAfter 4 bottles of don\nThe kid start feelin' woozie\nI write my life\nYou write what you've seen in gangsta movies\nI'm gangsta to the core, nigga you can't move me\nI find my space at the top\nI got this rap shit locked\nI've never heard of you\nYou've heard of me, I'll murder you\nSpit shells at your convertable\nAs long as you notice\nRichard Poor hallows still go through ya door\nThis is war\nYou scared of me\nYour not prepared for me\nThe Kid is back\n50 Cent I know you like that\n\n\nThe criminal cop killin' hip-hop villiana\nMinimal swap to cop millions of Pac listeners\nYour comin' with me, feel it or not you're gonna fear it\nLike I showed ya the spirit of God lives in us\nYou hear it a lot lyrics to shock,\nIs it a miracle\nOr am I just a product of pop fizzin' up?\nFa shizzel my wizzel, this is the plot\nListen up,\nYou bizzels forgot slizzel does not give a fuck\n\n\nTill the roof comes off,\nTill the lights go out\nTill my legs give out\nCan't shut my mouth\nTill the smoke clears out\nAnd my high burn out\nI'm a rip this shit till my bones collapse\nTill the roof comes off\nTill the lights go out\nTill my legs give out\nCan't shut my mouth\nTill the smoke clears out\nAm I high, perhaps?\nI'm a rip this shit till my bones collapse\n\n\nMusic is like magic, there's a certain feelin'\nYou get when you're real, and you spit and people are feelin' ya shit\nThis is your moment,\nAnd every single minute you get try'n hold on to it\n'cause you may never get it again\nSo while you're in it try to get as much shit as you can\nAnd when your run is over\nJust admit when it's at it's end\n'Cause I'm at the end of my wits with half the shit gets in\nI got a list\nHere's the order of my list that it's in -\nIt goes Reggie, Jay-Z, Tupac... \n\n\nWhere my thugs at\nHuh, increase the doses, bustin whoever closest\nThug livin, hell or prison, never losin my focus\nI'm makin money moves manditory\nIn a discussion my past records tell a story\nPicture niggaz we rushin and still bustin\nTil the cops come runnin, duck in abandoned buildings\nDitchin my gun, homeboy the motherfuckin villain\nI live the lifestyles of drug dealers, but now legit list\nSo I laugh til I cry, when the law come get me\nNo baby momma drama, nigga miss me, why plant seeds\nIn a dirty bitch, waitin to trick me, not the life for me\nLivin carefree, til I'm buried - and if they dare me\nI'm bustin on niggaz until they scurry, I'm clearly\nA man of military means in my artillery\nWatchin over me through every murder scene\nFrom adolescence, to my early teens, thought we was gonna die\nSellin dope to all the fiends, at times I wanna cry\nAnd still, we try to change the past, in vain\nNever knowin if this game'll last, feelin ashamed\nOf cocaine, the product of the devil, am I sellin my soul?\nGot tired of small time livin, niggaz tellin me no\nI got MINE, FUCK THEM OTHER SUCKERS, that's the mentality\nJealous-ass bustaz \nI know you niggas been waiting for this shit for a long time\nWell here it is nigga here it is\n\n\n\n\nNo insanity plea for me, I ride the beef til I burn\nSensimilla bar your kids from the lessons I learned\nAnd in turn I'm hostile guess you could call me anti-social\nNiggaz shakin like they caught the holy ghost when I approach em\nTry to politic, before I smoke em, like Sun Zu\nNiggaz do unto these snitches, before it's done to you\nAnd if the cops come arrest me in the evening\nBest believe they comin for my dogs in the mornin\nAnd if I die by a slug, the death of a true thug\nTell me will my niggaz mourn me? Gettin blowed out\nHigh, watch me murder the bird, before he testify\nStrikes, walkin close to my third, I live a trouble life\nAnd if you dream be a part of my team\nFrom Long Beach to Queens, drug dealers to ex-fiends\nKeep yo' eyes on the prize, nigga watch for bustaz\n\n\n\n\nSoon as a verse starts I eat at an MCs heart, what is he thinkin'\nAbout to go against me?, smart\nAnd it's absurd how people hang on every word\nI'll probably never get the props I feel I ever deserve\nBut I'll never be served, my\nSpot is forever reserved\nIf I ever leave Earth\nThat would be the death of me first\n'cause in my heart of hearts I know nothin' could\nEver be worse that's why I'm\nClever when I put together every verse\nMy thoughts are sporadic, I act like\nI'm an addict\nI rap like I'm addicted to smack,\nLike I'm Kim Mathers\nBut I don't wanna go forth and back in constant battles\nThe fact is I would rather sit back and bomb some rappers\nSo this is like a full blown attack I'm launchin'\nAt them, the track is on some\nBattlin' rap who wants some static\n'Cause I don't really think that the fact that\nI'm Slim matters\nA plaque and platinum status is wack if I'm not the baddest\n\n\n\n\nUntil the roof, (Until the roof)\nThe roof comes off (The roof comes off)\nUntil my legs, (Until my legs)\nGive out from underneath me,\nI, I will not fall,\nI will stand tall\nFeels like no one can\nBeat me"},
{"year": null, "title": "8 Mile", "album": null, "lyrics": "It's alright, it's OK, I'm gonna make it anyway,\nI'ma make it, I'ma make it, I'ma make it.., somehow...\n\n\nSometimes I just feel like, quitting I still might\nWhy do I put up this fight, why do I still write\nSometimes it's hard enough just dealing with real life\nSometimes I wanna jump on stage and just kill mics\nAnd show these people what my level of skill's like\nBut I'm still white, sometimes I just hate life\nSomething ain't right, hit the brake lights\nCase of the stage fright, drawing a blank like\nDa-duh-duh-da-da, it ain't my fault\nBreaking eye balls, my insides crawl\nand I clam up (wham) I just slam shut\nI just can't do it, my whole manhood's\njust been stripped, I have just been vicked\nSo I must then get off the bus then split\nMan fuck this shit yo, I'm going the fuck home\nWorld on my shoulders as I run back to this 8 Mile Road\n\n\nI'm a man, I'ma make a new plan\nTime for me to just stand up, and travel new land\nTime for me to just take matters into my own hands\nOnce I'm over these tracks man I'ma never look back\n(8 Mile Road) And I'm gone, I know right where I'm going\nSorry momma I'm grown, I must travel alone\nain't gon' follow the footsteps I'm making my own\nOnly way that I know how to escape from this 8 Mile Road\n\n\nI'm walking these train tracks, trying to regain back\nthe spirit I had 'fore I go back to the same crap\nTo the same plant, and the same pants\nTrying to chase rap, gotta move ASAP\nAnd get a new plan, momma's got a new man\nPoor little baby sister, she don't understand\nSits in front of the TV, buries her nose in the pad\nAnd just colors until the crayon gets dull in her hand\nWhile she colors her big brother and mother and dad\nAin't no telling what really goes on in her little head\nWish I could be the daddy that neither one of us had\nBut I keep running from something I never wanted so bad!\nSometimes I get upset, cause I ain't blew up yet\nIt's like I grew up, but I ain't grow me two nuts yet\nDon't gotta rep my step, don't got enough pep\nThe pressure's too much man, I'm just trying to do what's best\nAnd I try, sit alone and I cry\nYo I won't tell no lie, not a moment goes by\nThat I don't pray to the sky, please I'm begging you God\nPlease don't let me be pigeon holed in no regular job\nYo I hope you can hear me homey wherever you are\nYo I'm telling you dawg I'm balling this trailer tomorrow\nTell my mother I love her, kiss baby sister goodbye\nSay whenever you need me baby, I'm never too far\nBut yo I gotta get out there, the only way I know\nAnd I'ma be back for you, the second that I blow\nOn everything I own, I'll make it on my own\nOff to work I go, back to this 8 Mile Road\n\n\n\n\nYou gotta live it to feel it, you didn't you wouldn't get it\nOr see what the big deal is, why it wasn't the skillest\nTo be walking this borderline of Detroit city limits\nIt's different, it's a certain significance,\nA certificate of authenticity, you'd never even see\nBut it's everything to me, it's my credibility\nYou never seen heard smelled or met a real MC\nwho's incredible upon the same pedestal as me\nBut yet I'm still unsigned, having a rough time\nSit on the porch with all my friends and kick dumb rhymes\nGo to work and serve MC's in the lunchline\nBut when it comes crunch time, where do my punchlines go\nWho must I show, to bust my flow\nWhere must I go, who must I know\nOr am I just another crab in the bucket\nCause I ain't having no luck with this little rabbit's foot, fuck it\nMaybe I need a new outlet, I'm starting to doubt shit\nI'm feeling a little skeptical who I hang out with\nI look like a bum, yo my clothes ain't about shit\nAt the Salvation Army trying to salvage an outfit\nAnd it's cold, trying to travel this road\nPlus I feel like I'm on stuck in this battling mode\nMy defenses are so up, but one thing I don't want\nIs pity from no one, the city is no fun\nThere is no sun, and it's so dark\nSometimes I feel like I'm just being pulled apart\nFrom each one of my limbs, by each one of my friends\nIt's enough to just make me wanna jump out of my skin\nSometimes I feel like a robot, sometimes I just know not\nWhat I'm doing I just blow, my head is a stove top\nI just explode, the kettle gets so hot\nSometimes my mouth just overloads the acid I don't got\nBut I've learned, it's time for me to U-turn\nYo it only takes one time for me to get burned\nAin't no calling her next time I need a new girl\nI can no longer play stupid or be immature\nI got every ingredient, all I need is the courage\nLike I already got the beat, all I need is the words\nGot the urge, suddenly it's a surge\nSuddenly a new burst of energy has occurred\nTime to show these free world leaders the three and a third\nI am no longer scared now, I'm free as a bird\nThen I turn and cross over the median curve\nHit the 'burbs and all you see is a blur from 8 Mile Road"},
{"year": null, "title": "50 Ways", "album": null, "lyrics": "You probably gonna think that I'm talking about you and you goddamn right I am\nlook at you, this is the minimal I could diss you\nsubliminally, but I think criminal instinct\nhas pushed me to the brink, my pussy does it stink\nhe still loves me cause he puts me in his ink\nhe does, doesn't he, still is, isn't he?\nNah, I'm just playing tug of war with his heart cause he misses me\nI can still fuck him and leave him whenever I feel frisky\nand there's no risk of disease cause he ain't with anyone is he?\nthis bitch really thinks she can get me\nif she still wants me, driving across country\nstrapped him to the front seat, missing all the front teeth\nthinking to herself when's the next time he's gonna punch me?\nI told this cunt she's gonna over-do it once\nand once she does, she'll  be stuffed up in a trunk\ncrunch, he scrunched her up in a ball\nbunched up nice and comfy\nfuck around get dumped up in a lake 'fore you dump me\nyou cunning little cunt, deceitful witch\nyou thought you had me, 'till my shrink told me this\n\n\nThe problem is all inside your head she said to me\nThe answer is easy if you take it logically\nI'd like to help you in your struggle to be free\nThere must be 50 ways to leave your lover\n\n\nI feel like a serial killer\nI keep dumping bodies in the lake, Imma get caught and sent up the river\nI shiver when I think of the company I keep\nhow do I know she ain't gonna kill me when I sleep?\nI shriek, every time she hands me something to drink\nsex kept us together, when we slept together everything\nwas all better, she made me feel like a king\nslowly, she began lowering my self-esteem\nshe go to the club and not answer the phone when I call her\nand I just bought her a truck for 50,000 dollars\naccused me of doing drugs and screaming \"holla\"\nthen I find a bag of coke on her, some marijuana\nand all I know is every time I go\nto them hiding spots, wherever she hides her blow\nthe little bags of dope, there was a pile of coke\nthat's growing smaller, and that was just a while ago\nand I wouldn't even let on like I know\nwhat was I supposed to do, call her out on it? we just argue\nsay she put it down on purpose and flipped the whole script\nooh she's a manipulative evil bitch\na cunning little cunt, little deceitful witch\nshe thought she had me, 'till my shrink told me this\n\n\nThe problem is all inside your head she said to me\nThe answer is easy if you take it logically\nI'd like to help you in your struggle to be free\nThere must be 50 ways to leave your lover"},
{"year": "2014", "title": "Right For Me", "album": "\"Shady XV\" (2014)", "lyrics": "I feel phenomenal as usual\nPharmaceuticals, glue stick to crucify me at Bonnaroo\nBut I don't know if I'm in Tennessee, Chicago, or Houston\nIn the corner trying to seek solitude\nShallow but such a hollow dude\nI won't even swallow solid food\nAlcoholic too, plus I'm on lean like the Tower of Pisa\nTop it off I'm on mushrooms so fuck all of you\nRoses to violet mollies are blue\nLost in a ball of confusion\nIts all an illusion\nIt's probably the shrooms I'm on\nCause I think I started hallucinating\nCause I just thought I just heard Jay Electronica and Odd Future's new shit\nAnd all I can do is follow the music\nAnd end up with Paula Abdul at Lollapalooza\nFillin' water balloons with nail polish remover\nJust a problem in wallowing fumes\nI feel uptight I gotta get looser\nAfter I finish polishing off this bottle of booze I got a solution\nConcentrated like orange juice so I'm not as diluted\nCause all this delusion got me seein' shit\nExcusez-moi but that coochie that passed\nYou see her ass? Wouldn't make her my main squeeze\nBut juicier ass, it belongs in a juicer\nIt's mouth waterin' too so I walked up to it like I'm Marshall\nWanna try to meet my standards? I'll Introduce ya\nOh I'm a misogynist too but I'm not a masseuse\nBut my attitude is rubbin' off on the youth\nA chronic abuser, not only user of marijuana\nI mean verbal assault that I use to smoke all of you losers\nGot a bazooka, a shotgun, a ruger, a Glock, and a nuke\nAnd a Rottweiler too, I'm not in the mood so\nWhen I say I'm bringing the TEC out\nI'm not coming to repair your fuckin' electronic computers\nGod, I'm gonna puke\nI'm so gone off the hookah\nI think I swallowed a loofah\nI'm tore up, demolished, a fuckin' stone like Oliver\nLike I looked Medusa in the eyeball to seduce her\nThe thoughts I produce are loony tunes\nThe box of usable latex gloves and the socks and the shoes\nTo replace next up Veronica's boobs\nAnd a paychecks that were stuffed in a glove box\nIn a blue Honda with used condoms were clues\nThe girl was just not the one suitable for him\n\n\nRight For Me will change me rearrange my head to be\nJust right for you and me don\u2019t laugh, please listen\nDon\u2019t laugh, please listen\n\nThought I could endure the pressure\nCollapse and crumble perhaps\nRelapsing under that\nWell that's a bunch of crap\nIn the clutch, I'm the Captain Crunch of rap\nAnd I'm sick of acting humble thats enough of that\nFuck that shit, cut the sack\nLike its a natural reaction\nThat's why I'm actually trapped in this shoving match\nCause push keeps coming to that\nI can keep getting my ass kicked, keep it coming back\nLike a sarcastic crumpled sack of shit so mad\nDisgruntled had some struggles yeah\nBut that passionate hunger's back\nThe fantastic juggling act\nAnd the way I flip my tongue on the track\nIt's like verbal acrobatics\nBut in fact\nLast time I tried to pull off a dramatic stunt as drastic\nI fuckin' crashed my hovercraft\nAfter I strapped the duffel bag to my back\nAnd stuck the massive punchin' bag in it\nAn elastic bungee strap, proper plaster, a thumb tack\nAnd a piece of plastic bubble wrap\nWent spastic and fuckin' snapped\nJumped and splashed in a puddle of battery acid\nStumbled back, recovered, back flipped\nAnd landed on a gymnastic tumble mat\nAnd for my last trick, lunge on back lash\nOn a NASA shuttle flap, fuckin' snapped the rudder in half\nChuckled and laughed, buttaled my last rebuttal\nAnd just asked him to come crash\nAnd I go grab my go-go-gadget inflatable gigantic humongous mattress\nAnd ceramic construction hat\nRubbed my magic mushroom tat\nFell off then splat, get up from that\nFace taped to a waste paper basket\nThrow up then gas, lungs collapse\nAnd that's more likely than finding someone that's\n\n\n\nCouple of shots of J\u00e4ger\nPublic intoxication, dis-fuckin'-combobulation\nFlooded with thoughts of anger\nWhile I was away I know probably some of you got to thinkin'\n\"You're top ten ain't cha?\" stop cause you fuckers are talkin' crazy\nAnd stop interrupting you're not even up in the conversation\nWhether you're punchin' a clock or famous\nUnderground, pop, or nameless, whatever your job is\nI came to fuck with your occupation\nYou're thinkin' just cause you came in with scrubs\nAnd you brought the scalpel and sponge\nThe oxygen tank and the suction and shot the brain surgeon\nStuck in the operating room\nOnce you done, swapped your name with him\nSmuggled in Ronald Reagan\nIf you duck him up Donald Fagen\nWhile juggling waffles baking\nFuckin' McDonalds egg and cheese sausage bagel finagle\nThey flung it across the table\nThen bump it and knock it shake it\nJumped and got in the way then disrupted my concentration\nI said fuck it and lost my patience\nSince they all woke up from sedation\nAin't none of you Doctor Dre\nSo then what does it got you thinkin'\nThat you can fuck with this operation\nAftermath, still running hip-hop amazing\nI'm still pluggin' along\nNo need for an assumption\nHere's confirmation\nI'm up for the long duration\nI'm just looking for something to walk away with\nSome pocket change and a little integrity\nThough I'll probably be jumpin' across the stage\nTill I'm fuckin' Madonna's age and\nStuck in an awkward place in my life\nBut I shit you not like I'm fucked up with constipation\nThat day will come before I stumble upon some ladies"},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Groundhog Day", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "What is a nightmare? The dictionary tells us it is a terrifying dream, a nightmare\n\n\nI used to think I had bad luck, but I wasn't superstitious\nTill one day I grew suspicious, when I stepped on a crack on Aunt Edna's stoop\nAnd got pooped on by a group of stupid pigeons\nThen we flew the coop to Michigan to start a new be-ditching\nMissouri from Michigan didn't work\nSo we moved back to Missouri from Michigan, from Missouri back to Michigan\nSomeone put me out my misery, I can't do this again\nMom please stick to a decision\nDiscipline, last thing I wanna' do is listen she's like\nLex Luthor, bitch, her rules are kryptonite\nSo the walls and I done lost my power to see through them bitches\nBut I run into them, running through the kitchen\nPretending to be blind, Superman\nCause I had no supervision\nBut I did have a super power though\nI could turn into invisible kid\nDisappear out of sight, like a true magician\nAnd one day uncle Ronnie brought over this new, but different\nMusic into the picture and it became my new religion\n\"I remember it clearly, even today.\"\nMove back to Michigan again, to live with my Grandma Ned\nAlways itchin' for something to do, was flipping\nThrough the radio stations one day\nAnd discovered this DJ who was mixing\nI say it to this day, if you ain't listened to the wizard\nYou ain't have a fucking clue what you was missing\nI'd zone out with my headphones, all I remember doing's wishing\nFor shoes, fuck them stupid pumas bitch, it's all about them new edition troops\nYou get the new LL Cool J cooling system\nMade that final maneuver to 8 Mile and Hoover and somehow I saw my future is in this\nThat's how I knew my mission\nLittle boom box boomin', spitting\nPracticing numerous rhythms\nWhen I sit in my room envisioning my dreams come true for wishin'\nI remember Proof would visit\nCouldn't wait to play him my new shit, he'd go coocoo ballistic\nGo through the roof for his shit\nIt's like we knew the instant\nWe touched a mic that both of us two existed to do this shit\nNever quit, too persistent\n\"We are a rap empire\"\n\n\nStarted a group of misfits\nProof had a proposition\nIf we all band together, there ain't no stopping this shit\nCome up with aliases, bipolar opposites and\nBe ready to come off the top as sharp position\nIf you got dissed at the shop cause if they caught you slippin'\nThey'd take your spot if someone got to rippin' you\nAnd you forgot your written\nOpportunity knocks once, it ain't knocking again\nThey tried ding-dong ditching shit\nI fucking got that bitch in a headlock\nCut off his oxygen Slim snot gourgin\nCock sucking cynder block in the wind\nNow I got my pot to piss in\nSpot in that top position\nCopping over the opposition\nLooking like a dog that's pissing\nLeg up on the competition\nPromising complete dominance, Sugar Ray Robinson\nI'm in a league Muhammad's in\nAli's my colleague bombing them\nProbably end up on top of them\nStomping them like Ndamukong\nI'm rushing like a Urkanian Ladanian Tomlinson\nFlow vomits in your face\nCompetitors fall at my waist\nYou spit a rhyme, I spit in a rhyme's face\nSo name the time, place to battle\nBitch I'm still in that mind state\nDon't make me step on you and make you wine grapes\nCry babies, maybe my way that I use words is loose\nBut you turds better be careful how you choose yours\nCause feelings scar but egos bruise worse\nAnd the truth hurts, shit no wonder you're sore losers\nNow where's your poop birds?\nOoh, no more tripping in bird shit, songs of self empowerment surgeon\nWords of encouragement but this discouraging the rappers\nThe rap games God, but the name's not James Todd?, I'm just a wordsmith\nSo let these words lift\nCause all I got is bars for you dumbbells since yours ain't working out\nEach verse is more merciless than the first is\nAnd you ain't got to wear no shoes and shirt in this beast? to get served\nBlood thirst, Revenge of the Nerds\nChickit\n\n\"And it's true you shall not escape my vengeance.\"\n\nAnd I'm the kid with them ears like Dumbo's gone\nWord to Uncle Ron\nI'm turning into a non-humble Don\nYou blonde dumb hoes, all I got is dick for you to come blow on\nSo stop the show, but I need a drum roll 'fore I go on\nBetter back away from the front row, get gone\nChomp your arm?\nBigger than Dikembe Mutumbo\nI'm the fucking jumbo tron\nI'm a juggernaut, you do not wanna crumble, you bambacluts\nI'll leave you stretched out, like a fucking yawn\nSo mow the fucking lawn, your asses are blades of grass\nAnd I'm fucking up this whole landscape of rap\nThe GOAT just ate eight acres, and ate the vet\nWho's just to make a path and take you straight to your favorite rapper\nOh look, my notebook looks smoke cooked\nLike the flow stood a foot over the flame on the stove, soot\nCharred debris floating\nLike oak wood was burning\nReturn of the no good\nAnd I won't quit\n\n\n\"And the next thing I know something came crawling up from below\nSomething that made Godzilla look like a plane.\"\n\nAnd I don't quit, won't change,\nIt's like a groundhog's day\nSo grab a hand ya'll cause you may see if I popped your head\n\n\"I'm a heartless monster\"\nTurn me into\n\"I'm a heartless monster\"\n\"With my dick in your mouth all day\"\n\nI'm not so sure I want to know from whence it came\nBut the white flesh creature's trail is easily followed\nThere, before that shimmering veil of light, the ivory skin slug thing"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "W.T.P.", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "Yeah! Oh! Get Up! I said get up! Let's go!\nBetter watch out, now\nHere we come (come)\nAnd we ain't stoppin' until\nWe see the mornin' sun (sun)\nSo give us room to do our thing\nCause we ain't come to hurt no one (one)\nSo everybody come on get up on the floor\nRight now and grab someone (one)\n\n\nNow first of all I'm the boss\nI just wanna get that across\nMan even my Dentist hates when I floss\nPull up to the club in a Pinto likes it's a Porsche\nGarbage bag for one of the windows\nSpray-painted doors with the flames on 'em\nMichigan plates and my name's on 'em\nBaby, Shady's here come on get him\nIf you dames want 'em\nBut he ain't stupid so quit tryin' to run them games on him\nHe's immune to Cupid, why you tryin' to put your claims on him?\nCause you won't do to me what you did to the last man\nNow climb in back try not to kick over the gas can\nThere's a half a gallon in it, that could be our last chance\nWe have of just gettin' home, now could I get that lap dance?\nShe's got a tattoo of me right above her ass man\nIn the streets of Warren, Michigan we call 'em tramp stamps\nThat means she belongs to me, time to put the damn clamps\nDown and show this hussy who's the man\nNow, get in, dance!\n\n\nNow you can do this on your own\nBut everyone knows that no one likes to be alone\nSo get on the floor and grab somebody!\nAin't nothin' but a White Trash Party!\nSo let's have us a little bash\nAnd if anyone asks\nIt ain't no one but us trash\nYou dunno, you better ask somebody\nCause we're havin' a White Trash Party!\n\n\nPull a fifth of Bacardi from outta my underwear\nAnd walk around the party without a care\nLike a body without a head\nLookin' like a zombie from Night of the Livin' Dead\nAnd tomorrow I probably still be too high to get outta bed\nTil I feel like I been hit wit the sharp part'a the hammer\nMixin' Hennessey and Fanta with Pepto and Mylanta\nI shoot the gift like I'm hollerin' \"Die Santa!\"\nMissed the tree and hit Rudolph and two innocent bystanders\nSo quit tryin' ta play the wall like you balling\nGet on the floor when the beat drops and stop stallin'\nThey call me the Stephon Marbury of rap, darlin'\nCause as soon as they throw on some R-Kelly I start ballin'\nMakin' it rain for the ladies in the mini's\nBut I'm not throwin' ones, fives, tens, or even twenties\nI'm throwin' quarters, nickels, dimes, pennies up at skinnies\nMan I do this for them bunnies up at Denny's\nFrom the north, east and west, but when\nIt comes to them trailers in them South Parks\nMuffle it, cause homie that hood's tighter than Kenny's\nSo ladies if your belly button's not an innie then I'm outie\nNow hop in my minivan, let's get rowdy\nC'mon\n\n\nNow you can do this on your own\nBut everyone knows that no one likes to be alone\nSo get on the floor and grab somebody!\nAin't nothin' but a White Trash Party!\nSo let's have us a little bash\nAnd if anyone asks\nIf there ain't no one but us trash\nYou dunno, you better ask somebody\nCause we're havin' a White Trash Party!\n\n\nNow whether you're black, white or purple\nIf you're misunderstood\nBut you don't give a fuck\nYou ain't doin' shit that you should\nLong as you know you're up to evil\nAnd you're no damn good\nGet on the floor, man, and rep your 'hood\nNow honey, don't let them pricks trip\nWe should make a quick dip\nAnd go do some donuts in the hospital parkin' lot\nCause girl I got a sick wip\nKick the back window outta my Gremlin\nPut two milk crates in the trunk\nRip out the stick shift and\nMake a five seater\nI'll be damned if I feed a chick\nIt ain't like me to split a piece 'a dry pita\nI'll be the S-L to the I-M to the S-H-A-D-Y\nAnd I don't need a tank top to be a wife beater\nI'll rip a tree out the ground\nAnd flip it upside down\n'Fore I turn over a new leaf, clown\nI'll tell ya now\nI'm so raw I still need to un-thaw\nYou feel me, yall?\nI shut the club down like Drake in the mall\nBut baby, a body like that's against the law\nYou the baddest little chain with the blades I ever saw\nCold slaw containers, empty straw wrappers and all\nYou got more junk in your trunk than I do in my car\nNow get up!\n\n\nNow you can do this on your own\nBut everyone knows that no one likes to be alone\nSo get on the floor and grab somebody!\nAin't nothin' but a White Trash Party!\nSo let's have us a little bash\nAnd if anyone asks\nIf there ain't no one but us trash\nYou dunno, you better ask somebody\nCause we're havin' a White Trash Party!"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Taking My Ball", "album": "\"Relapse: Refill\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Yo...Dre Man..Make my vocals sound sexy,\nCome on man, come on man, okaaaay,\n\n\nIt feels so wrong cause it feels so right,\nBut its all right, its ok with me,\nI'll do my steps all by myself,\nI don't need nobody to play with me,\nBut if you just give me a chance,\nI can put you in a trance the way I dance,\nBut don't nobody wanna play with me so I'm\nTaking My Ball and going home, hooome,\n\n\nI'm that guy man,\nShove a diamond up my hind end,\nAnd crush it with my butt muscles while I cut vocals,\nSlut poke holes in ya shirt, jump in mud puddles,\nWhile I stomp mudholes in ya ass girl,\nNow lets cuddle,\nBlood curdling your gurgling on your blood,\nWhat I do for my next trick,\nIm feeling won-der-ful,\nI think I might just do something a little less subtle,\nShove a fucking tonka truck up a little kids butthole,\nFeel the wrath of a psychopath slash ambassador of the valentines day massacre slash assassin\nI slash her in the ass with a icicle\nAnd leave her laying a blood bath\nWhile I put a catheter in\nAnd jump in the bath with her,\nIn my spiderman mask man\nJust imagine the fun I can have with a strap on,\nStick it up Kim Kardashian's ass and make the bitch run a triathlon,\nAre those pistachio's damn, I'd like to have some,\nLaying on the patio man, rolling a fat one,\nShady drop the magic marker, put the cap on,\nGod damn man are you that much of an asshole,\n\n\n\n\nI'm like houdini,\nTuck my teenie eenie weenie between each\nOne of my thighs and make it disappear like a genie,\nMake the shit disappear like tara reid in a bikini, believe me homie,\nYou don't know the meaning of a meanie,\nThey call me the fruit loop from jupiter,\nI'm trying to maneuver the hoover up in your poop shoot,\nDont move or ya might get it stuck so fucking far up in your uvula\nYou aint gonna know what he was tryna do to ya gluteus,\nTotally tubular sniffing glue through a tube in the studio\nNow who do ya think is more fruitier,\nWeenier smoothered in peanut butter putting on a tube of ya eye shadow and man it look nice,\nYou should've seen it mother,\nI think I'll put a piece of art on my visa card,\nThen I'll go meet Mischa Barton with a Cuisinart\nThen mosy on over to Rosie-o-Donnell's\nWith McDonald's jump on her lap and watch the Sopranos..\n\n\n\n\nShady what are you doing chewing on a human,\nGrab an aluminum bat hit Heidi Klum in the back, BOOM!\nAssuming the fact that dudes in the back room\nUsing the bathroom vacuum and a racoon,\nSkewing a rat a cat screwing a baboon,\nYou shouldn't ask what is he doing with that broom,\nYou should be glad he ain't leave you full of stab wounds,\nYou in a trance, I'm back doing my dance ooh,\nBut there afraid I might get Sarah Palin by the hair\nAnd make her wear a bathing suit and take her para sailing\nShady why you gotta pick on the lady for,\nWhy you make her read 84 bed time stories to you in baby talk?\nCause I'm scared there's monster's under my bed,\nKelly Pickler hid my juice box under my bassinet,\nNo wonder my ass is wet my diaper needs to be changed,\nYou like graffiti dike, well I can pee pee and write your name,\n\n\n\nFine nobody wants to play with me \nFuck you then bitch!\nYou guys are always mean to me anyways \nAll you ever do is rub gum in my hair and stuff\nYou guys are gonna make me...make me sad I'm sad\nI'm gonna cry...I'm crying\nI'm going' tell my mom....mom..."},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Careful What You Wish For", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "So this is it...\r\nThis is what I wished for\r\nJust isn't how I envisioned it\r\nFamed to the point of imprisonment\r\nI just thought the shit'd be different\r\nBut something changed\r\nThe minute that I got a whiff of it\r\nI started to inhale it\r\nSmell it\r\nStarted sniffin' it\r\nAnd it became my cocaine\r\nI just couldn't quit\r\nI just wanted a little bit\r\nThen it turned me (in) to a monster\r\nI became a hypocrite\r\nConcert after concert\r\n\r\nI was raking in the dough\r\nRolling in green\r\nHad the game hemmed up\r\nLike a sewing machine\r\nBut I was losing my freedom\r\nThere was no where for me\r\nTo not go and be seen\r\nAnd just go and be me\r\nAnd there was no in-between\r\nYou either loved it or hate it\r\n\r\nEvery CD critics gave it a 3, then 3\r\nYears later, they'd go back and re-rate it\r\nAnd call the Slim Shady LP the greatest\r\nThe Marshall Mathers was a classic\r\nThe Eminem Show was fantastic\r\nBut Encore just didn't have the caliber to match it\r\nI guess enough time just ain't passed, yet\r\nA couple more years, that shit'll be ill-matic\r\nAnd eight years later, I'm still at it\r\nDivorce, re-married\r\nA felon\r\nA father\r\nSleeping pill addict\r\nAnd this is real talk\r\nI feel like the Incredible Hulk\r\nMy back has been broke, and I can still walk\r\n\r\n\r\nSo be careful what you wish for\r\n'Cause you just might get it\r\nAnd if you get it then you just might not know\r\nWhat to do wit' it, 'cause it might just\r\nCome back on you ten-fold\r\n\r\nI said\r\n\r\nBe careful what you wish for\r\n'Cause you just might get it\r\nAnd if you get it then you just might not know\r\nWhat to do wit' it, 'cause it might just\r\nCome back on you ten-fold\r\n\r\n\r\nI got a letter from a fan, that said\r\nHe's been praying for me\r\nEvery day and for some reason\r\nIt's been weighing on my mind heavy\r\n'Cause I don't read every\r\nLetter I get, but something told me to go ahead and open it, but\r\nWhy would someone pray for you when they don't know you?\r\nYou didn't pray for me when I was local\r\nAnd as I lay these vocals\r\nI think of all the shit I had to go through\r\nJust to get to where I'm at\r\nI've already told you at least\r\n\r\nA thousand times in these rhymes\r\nI appreciate the prayer, but I've already got\r\nGod on my side\r\nAnd it's been one hell of a ride, hasn't it?\r\nJust watchin' it from an opposite standpoint\r\nMan, boy's got to look\r\nNuts\r\nAnd that's the only word I can think of right now\r\nOn how\r\nTo describe the shit\r\nThis is like a vibe you get\r\nGo ahead and bob to it\r\nJust watch what you wish for, 'cause I got the shit\r\n\r\n\r\nSo be careful what you wish for\r\n'Cause you just might get it\r\nAnd if you get it then you just might not know\r\nWhat to do wit' it, 'cause it might just\r\nCome back on you ten-fold\r\n\r\nI said\r\n\r\nBe careful what you wish for\r\n'Cause you just might get it\r\nAnd if you get it then you just might not know\r\nWhat to do wit' it, 'cause it might just\r\nCome back on you ten-fold"},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Steve Berman (Skit)", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Mr. Berman? What?!\r\nWe have Eminem here to see you \r\n\r\nabout fuckin' time!\r\nSend him in (Steve! Good to see ya man) \r\nLook who decided to show his face!\r\nI hope you've had fun in the last 4 years. \r\n(Look man, I apologise again for-) \r\nFor shooting me?! Do you know I lost the use of my right arm?\r\n(Again, it was a mistake,) (a terrible mist- are you wearing a bulletproof vest?) \r\nand then you go and you do what? hide out? stay in Detroit from us 5 years while the music industry melts the fuck down?\r\nDo you know how many people lost their jobs because of your fuckin vacation?\r\n(Well that's actually why I'm here, I was gonna, put out some new music and I wanted to play it for you, and get your opinion) \r\nDo I really need to hear it?\r\nLet me guess, another album about poor me, I'm so famous that it's ruined my rich little life, and I'm such a tortured artist.\r\nLet me make music about it and my tragic love life, am I on to something here? (Come on man it's not like that yo-) \r\nYou know what? Just hand the fuckin thing over I'm done talkin to you. Think you can just come and go as you please.\r\nBig selfish superstar (Steve, I had a drug problem) \r\nOh poor me, I had a drug problem.\r\nWho hasn't had a drug problem in this town? You know what? \r\n\r\n(Hey! hey!) Just lay the shit down on my desk and get the fuck out (Woah, woah, woah. Jesus Christ man!)\r\n(Alright alright here, fine) What's this shit? Two CD's? \r\n(That's what I've been tryin to tell you man, there's 2 albums)\r\nJust get out! (Alright!) \r\nGet the fuck out (Alright man, see you later)"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Yellow Brick Road", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "What we have to do is deal with it when these individuals are young enough. If you wish to be\r\nsaved, not in a religious sense but not to constitute what this country at times calls if or\r\nwhich over. We seem to be approaching an age of the gross. We all have this idea that we should\r\nmove up from our parents station and each generation should do a little bit better.\r\n\r\n\r\nCome on, let's cut the bullshit enough\r\nLet's get it started, let's start addressing this issue and open it up\r\nLet's take this shit back to basement\r\nAnd we can discuss statements thats made on this tape\r\nAnd its whole origin of the music that we all know and love\r\nThe music that we all enjoy the music you all accuse me of tryna destroy\r\nLet's rewind it to 89 when I was a boy on the east side of Detroit\r\nCrossing 8 Mile into Warren, into hick territory\r\nI'd like to share a story, this is my story and cant no body tell it for me\r\nYou will well inform me, I am well aware that I don't belong here\r\nYou've made that perfectly clear, I get my ass kicked damn near everywhere\r\nFrom Bel-Air shopping center just for stopping in there\r\nFrom the black side all the way to the white side\r\nOK there's a bright side a day that I might slide\r\nYou may call it a past I call it hauling my ass\r\nThrough that patch of grass over them railroad tracks\r\nOh them railroad tracks, them old railroad tracks\r\nThem good old notorious oh well known tracks\r\n\r\n\r\nSo lets go back\r\nFollow the yellow brick road as we go on another episode\r\nJourney with me as I take you through this nifty little place\r\nI once used to call home sweet home\r\n\r\n\r\nI roam the streets so much they call me a drifter\r\nSometimes I stick up a thumb just to hitch hike\r\nJust to get picked up to get me a lift to 8 mile and Van Dyke\r\nAnd steal a god damn bike from somebody's backyard\r\nAnd drop it off at the park that was the half way mark\r\nTo meet Kim had to walk back to her mama's on Chalmers after dark\r\nTo sneak me in the house when I'm kicked out my mom's\r\nThats about the time I first met Proof with Goofy Gary on the steps\r\nAt Osbourne handing out some flyers, he was doing some talent shows\r\nAt Centerline High, I had told him to stop by and check this out sometime\r\nHe looked at me like I'm out my mind shook his head like white boys don't know how to rhyme\r\nI spit out a line and rhymed birthday with first place\r\nAnd we both had the same rhymes that sound alike\r\nWe was on the same shit that Big Daddy Kane shit with compound syllables sound combined\r\nFrom that day we was down to ride somehow we knew we'd meet again somewhere down the line\r\n\r\n\r\nSo lets go back\r\nFollow the yellow brick road as we go on another episode\r\nJourney with me as I take you through this nifty little place\r\nI once used to call home sweet home\r\n\r\n\r\nMy first year in 9th grade, can't forget that day at school\r\nIt was cool till your man MC Shan came through\r\nAnd said that Puma's The Brand 'cause the clan makes troops\r\nIt was rumors but man, god damn, they flew\r\nMust've been true because man we done banned they shoes\r\nI had the new ones the Cool J, Ice land swayed too\r\nAnd we just through them in the trash like they yesterday's news\r\nGuess who came through next, X-clan debut\r\nProfessor X vanglorious exists in a state of red, black, and green\r\nWith a key sissies now with this being a new trend\r\nWe don't fit in crackers is out with Cactus albums\r\nBlackness is in, African symbols and medallions\r\nRepresents black power and we ain't know what it meant\r\nMe and my man Howard and Butter, we would go to the mall with 'em\r\nAll over our necks like we're showing 'em off not knowing at all\r\nWe was being laughed at you ain't even half black\r\nYou ain't supposed to have that homie let me grab that\r\nAnd that Flavor Flave clock we gonna have to snatch that\r\nAll I remember is meeting back at Manix's basement\r\nsaying how we hate this, how racist but dope the x clan's tape is...\r\nWhich reminds me back in 89 me and Kim broke up for the first time\r\nShe was tryna two time me and there was this black girl\r\nAt our school who thought I was cool cause I rapped so she was kinda eyeing me\r\nAnd oh the irony guess what her name was ain't even gonna say it plus\r\nThe same color hair as hers was and blue contacts and a pair of jugs\r\nThe bombest god damn girl in our whole school if I could pull it\r\nNot only would I become more popular but I would be able to piss Kim off at the same time\r\nBut it backfired I was supposed to dump her but she dumped me for this black guy\r\nAnd thats the last I ever seen or heard or spoke to the oh foolish pride girl\r\nBut I've heard people say they heard the tape and it ain't that bad\r\nBut it was I singled out a whole race and for that apologize\r\nI was wrong cause no matter what color a girl is she's still a hoe\r\n\r\n\r\nSo lets go back\r\nFollow the yellow brick road as we go on another episode\r\nJourney with me as I take you through this nifty little place\r\nI once used to call home sweet home"},
{"year": "2006", "title": "Shake That (Remix)", "album": "\"Eminem Presents The Re-Up\" (2006)", "lyrics": "Shady, Aftermath\r\nBTOV\r\n\r\nThere she goes shaking that ass on the floor\r\nBumpin and grindin that pole\r\nThe way she's grindin that pole\r\nI think I'm losing control\r\nBobby Creek\r\n\r\n\r\nI'm on the patron\r\nIn the end I'm gone\r\nMy eyes ain't clear\r\nI'm gone\r\nSo she hear me wrong\r\nI'm kinda in the zone\r\nCause the DJ playin' my song\r\nJust another opportunity for sayin' I'm known\r\nI'm from Atlanta\r\nSo southern ain't just part of my grammar\r\nI can up and cock the hammer\r\nFor any nigga\r\nBut I came here to get on goose and tropicana\r\nGet loose put some more of my juice\r\nIn your caboose\r\nSippin everything from white grain\r\nTo deuce juice\r\nWith nothin' to gain\r\nBut my grace and loose tooths\r\nEminem came Obie stat and proof too\r\nBobby creek is in the place\r\nThe name is snoop too\r\nMy drinks is 10 around\r\nI can make her spin around\r\nIf she keep her dinner down\r\nSimmer down\r\nWe can hit the telly when the fun stops\r\nAnd I hit you in ya ?\r\nCome sip on my gumdrops\r\n\r\n\r\nI met a bad bitch last night in the D\r\nLet me tell you how I made her leave with me\r\nConversation and Hennessey\r\nI've been to the muthafuckin mountain top\r\nHeard muthafuckers talk, seen 'em drop\r\nIf I ain't got a weapon I'ma pick up a rock\r\nAnd when I bust yo ass I'm gonna continue to rock\r\nGetcha ass of the wall with your two left feet\r\nIt's real easy just follow the beat\r\nDon't let that fine girl pass you by\r\nLook real close cause strobe lights lie\r\nWe bout to have a party (turn the music up)\r\nLet's get it started (Go head shake your butt)\r\nI'm lookin for a girl with a body and a sexy strut\r\nWanna get it poppin baby step right up\r\nSome girls they act retarded\r\nSome girls are bout it bout it\r\nI'm lookin for a girl\r\nThat will do whatever the fuck\r\nI say everyday she be givin it up\r\n\r\n\r\nShake that ass for me,\r\nShake that ass for me\r\nCome on girl, shake that ass for me,\r\nShake that ass for me\r\nOhh girl, shake that ass for me,\r\nShake that ass for me\r\nCome on girl, shake that ass for me,\r\nShake that ass for me\r\n\r\n\r\nObie Trice!\r\n\r\n\r\nOne slug\r\nCouldn't snuff young cuz\r\nGoodness gracious\r\nHaters stay on these nuts\r\nJust like a hood rat chick who was curious\r\nSerious\r\nFull breast, ready to touch\r\nWho's that in the cool blue back\r\nWith a new rag\r\nGivin' head while he poppin' the clutch\r\nTrue I had a few\r\nObie rollin' with brews\r\nAnnually knockin' the boots\r\nIt's on manual\r\nThe way I knock em outta they shoes\r\nTalk a little shit\r\nThen they anus'll ooze\r\nTalk a little spit on my ding-a-lang\r\nWho\r\nIt's shady\r\nYou know the name of the crew\r\nYou know the aim is to bang you\r\nIn the mansion\r\nWith a magnum\r\nWith a night pass to the matinee\r\nObie\r\nCame to party\r\nYou better ask somebody\r\n\r\n\r\nShake that ass for me, shake that ass for me\r\nCome on girl, shake that ass for me,\r\nShake that ass for me\r\nOhh girl, shake that ass for me,\r\nShake that ass for me\r\nCome on girl, shake that ass for me,\r\nShake that ass for me"},
{"year": "2006", "title": "Public Enemy #1", "album": "\"Eminem Presents The Re-Up\" (2006)", "lyrics": "I sense someones tapping into my phones why do\r\nI got this feeling in my bones I might die soon\r\nThe F.B.I might be tryin to pull my file soon\r\nI might be walking blind fold into a typhoon\r\nI might be seeing rockets light up the night sky\r\nRight outside of the window of my living room\r\nAnd if they do you can say goodnight and bye bye to them itunes\r\nIf I don't try to record as much before I do\r\nThe plan is to have as many in the can as I can\r\nAs I stand before you in this booth a walking deadman\r\nBlank stare dead pan look as my face as I gaze into space\r\nAs I wait to be scooped up in that van\r\nMysteriously disappear into thin air\r\nAnd they gon' say a sniper just appeared out of no where\r\nAnd I'll go down in the history as the blood sucking leech\r\nWho hid behind the freedom of speech\r\nTryed to take the fifth amendment use it, twist it and bend it\r\nAnd ended up dying to fill out in the heros splinters (?)\r\nThe business way to end this I can feel the tremors tremendous\r\nIn remembrance of september 11\r\nFlash back to september 7th\r\nWhen Tupac was murdered in Vegas\r\nHe said that he predicted his own death\r\nLet us never forget it or should we ever live to regret it\r\nLike the day John F Kennedy was assasinated in broad day\r\nBy a craze lunatic with a gun\r\nWho just happened to work on the same block in a library book depository\r\nWhere the President would go for a little friday stroll\r\nShots fired from the grassy knoll\r\nBut they don't know or do they?\r\nWhos they for them to say Touch\u00a9\r\nWhere all vunerable and it's spooky\r\nThis is about as cookey as I've ever felt now\r\nCount down to Nuclear Meltdown\r\n7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1\r\nYou can run you can do what you want to\r\nBut you know you aint gonna do nuttin\r\nWhen its time its your time\r\nYou are the prime target\r\nYou have become Public Enemy Number 1"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "My First Single", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Ohh!\r\nYeah!\r\nSo much for first single on this one\r\n\r\n\r\nShady's the label\r\nAftermath is the stable\r\nThat the horses come out erra\r\nOf course we're about to stir up\r\nSome shit thick as Mrs Buttersworth's syrup\r\nIt's the Mr. picked on Christopher Reeves\r\nJust for no reason other than the just to tease him\r\nCause he was was his biggest fan, he used to be Superman\r\nNow we're pouring liquor on the curb in his name for him\r\nEminem you wait till' we meet up again\r\nFucker I'm kicking your ass for everything you've ever said\r\nIt's one for the money two for the fucking show\r\nReady get set, let's go\r\nHere comes the bucking bronco stomping and stampeding up the damn street\r\nLike them buffalo soldiers, I told ya I'm bout' to blow\r\nSo look out below, Geronimo, motherfuckers is dominos\r\nI'm on a roll, around and around I go\r\nWhen will I stop? I don't know\r\nTryna pick up where the Eminem Show left off\r\nBut I know anything's possible\r\nThough I'm not gonna top what I sold\r\nI'm at the top of my game\r\nThat shit is not gonna change\r\nLong as I got Dr. Dre on my team\r\nI'll get away with murder\r\nI'm like O.J. he's like my Cochran today\r\nWe keep the Mark Fuhrman tapes\r\nIn a safe, locked them away\r\nBetter watch what you say\r\nJust when you thought you were safe\r\nThem fuckers got you on tape\r\nYou swear to god you was playing\r\nWhether or not you was little Joshua\r\nGosh I wish I could've told you to not do the same\r\nCause one day it could cost you your name\r\n\r\n\r\nAnd this was supposed to be my first single\r\nBut I just fucked that up so,\r\nFuck it, let's all have fun let's mingle\r\nSlap a bitch and smack a ho\r\nThis was supposed to be my catchy little jingle\r\nThat you hear on your radio\r\nBut shit's about to hit the shingle\r\nOh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh No\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Oh Ah Ah\r\nOh Ah Oh Ah\r\nOh Ah Oh Ah\r\nPoo Poo Ca Ca\r\n\r\n\r\nErra Erra Eric swallowed some generic sleeping pills\r\nAnd woke up in bed next to his best friend Derick bare naked\r\nchicka chicka chicka ..\r\nJanean just turned 16 and used a fake id\r\nTo sneak in V.I.P. to see R. Kelly\r\nHehehehehe, to be so young and naive\r\nOh what I wouldn't give to live so Kim and care free\r\nParis and Nikki's parents must be so tickled to cherish\r\nEvery picture with their kids with hickeys all over their necks\r\nHickory Dickory Dirk Diggler\r\nLook at me work wizardry with these words\r\nAm I a jerk or just jerk chicken\r\nOr Chicka chicka chicka chicka jer jer jerkin the chain\r\n22 jerks and a jerk circle\r\nOr is it a circle jerk or wait a minute\r\nWhat am I saying, allow me to run it back and rewind it\r\nrrrbb lemme ask you again\r\nAm I just jerkin the chain\r\nAm I bizerk or insane\r\nOr am I just one of them damn amateurs\r\nWorking the damn camera filming one of them\r\nParis Hilton home made pornos\r\nWho keeps tilting the lens at an angle\r\nChicka Chicka\r\nJust recently somebody just discovered\r\nBritney and Justin videotapes of them fucking\r\nWhen they were just musketeers in the Mickey Mouse club\r\nAnd dusted them and went straight to The Source with them\r\nCause they could've sworn someone said Nuh-\r\nAnd then tried to erase and record over it\r\nBut if you listen close enough to it you can hear the\r\nGa-Uh and then the come to find out it was Justin\r\nSaying \"I'm gonna come!\"\r\nAnd this was suppose to be\r\n\r\n\r\nsupposed to be my first single\r\nBut I just fucked that up so,\r\nFuck it, let's all have fun let's mingle\r\nSlap a bitch and smack a ho\r\nThis was supposed to be my catchy little jingle\r\nThat you hear on your radio\r\nBut shit's about to hit the shingle\r\nOh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh No\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Oh Ah Ah\r\nOh Ah Oh Ah\r\nOh Ah Oh Ah\r\nPoo Poo Ca Ca\r\n\r\n\r\nAny opinions or somethin you just wanna get off your chest\r\nAnd address it about my lyrics I'd love to hear it\r\nAll you gotta do is pick up the phone and just dial up this number\r\nIt's 1-800-I'm a dick sucker I love to suck a dick\r\nAnd if someone picks up you can talk all the shit you want about me\r\nJust type in your number back and follow it by the pound key\r\nAnd I'll be sure to get back\r\nAs soon as there comes a day that I fall out with Dre\r\nWake up gay, make up with Ray (Hey!)\r\nSo fuck a chicken, lick a chicken, suck a chicken,\r\nBeat a chicken, eat a chicken like it's a big cock(?) bawka-bi-kaw\r\nOr suck a dick, and lick a dick and eat a dick\r\nAnd stick a dick in your mouth\r\nI'm done you can fuck off\r\nfucka-fucka-fuck off!\r\n\r\n\r\nAnd this was supposed to be my first single\r\nBut I just fucked that up so,\r\nFuck it, let's all have fun let's mingle\r\nSlap a bitch and smack a ho\r\nThis was supposed to be my catchy little jingle\r\nThat you hear on your radio\r\nBut shit's about to hit the shingle\r\nOh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh No\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Ah\r\nerra Oh Oh Ah Ah\r\nOh Ah Oh Ah\r\nOh Ah Oh Ah\r\nPoo Poo Ca Ca"},
{"year": "2000", "title": "Drug Ballad", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "Yeah, hahahaha...whooooo, shit!\n (aight)\n Guess what? I ain't coming in yet...\nI'll come in a minute\n Ayo...This is my love song...it goes like this\n\n\nBack when Mark Walhberg was Marky Mark\nThis is how we used to make the party start\nWe used to mix Hen' with Bacardi Dark\nAnd when it, kicks in you can hardly talk\nAnd by the, sixth gin you're gonna probably crawl\nAnd you'll be, sick then and you'll probably barf\nAnd my pre-diction is you're gonna probably fall\nEither somewhere in the lobby or the hallway wall\nAnd everything's spinning\nYou're beginin' to think women\nare swimming in pink linen again in the sink\nThen in a couple of minutes that bottle of Guinness is finished\nYou are now allowed to officially slap bitches\nYou have the right to remain violent and start wilin'\nStart a fight with the same guy that was smart eyin' you\nGet in your car, start it, and start drivin'\nOver the island and cause a 42 car pile-up\nEarth calling, pilot to co-pilot\nLooking at the life on this planet, sir, no sign of it\nAll I can see is a bunch of smoke flyin'\nAnd I'm so high that I might die if I go by it\nLet me out of this place\nI'm outta place\nI'm in outer space\nI've just vanished without a trace\nI'm going to a pretty place now where the flowers grow\nI'll be back in an hour or so\n\n\n\n\n'Cause every time I go to try to leave\nSomeone keeps pullin' on my sleeve\nI don't wanna, but I gotta stay\nThese drugs really got a hold of me\n\n'Cause every time I try to tell them \"no\"\nThey won't let me ever let them go\nI'm a sucker all I gotta say\nThese drugs really got a hold of me\n\n\nIn third grade, all I used to do\nWas sniff glue through a tube and play Rubic's cube\n17 years later I'm as Rude as Jude\nScheming on the first chick with the hugest boobs\nI've got no game\nAnd every face looks the same\nThey've got no name\nSo I don't need game to play\nI just say whatever I want to whoever I want\nWhenever I want, wherever I want, however I want\nHowever, I do show some respect to few\nAs ecstasy got me standing next to you\nGetting sentimental as fuck spillin' guts to you\nWe just met\nBut I think I'm in love with you\nBut you're on it too\nSo you tell me you love me too\nWake up in the morning like \"yo, what the fuck we do?\"\nI gotta go bitch\nYou know I have stuff to do\n'Cause if I get caught cheatin' then I'm stuck with you\nBut in the long run\nThese drugs are probably going to catch up sooner or later\nBut fuck it, I'm on one\nSo let's enjoy\nLet the X destroy your spinal cord\nSo it's not a straight line no more\n'Til we walk around looking like some wind-up dolls\nShit's sticking out of our backs like a dinosaur\nShit, six hits won't even get me high no more\nSo bye for now\nI'm going to try to find some more\n\n\n\n\nThat's the sound of a bottle when it's hollow\nWhen you swallow it all wallow and drown in your sorrow\nAnd tomorrow you're probably going to want to do it again\nWhat's a little spinal fluid between you and a friend? Screw it\nAnd what's a little bit of alcohol poisoning?\nAnd what's a little fight?\nTomorrow you'll be boys again\nIt's your life\nLive it however you wanna\nMarijuana is everywhere\nWhere was you brought up?\nIt don't matter as long as you get where you're going\n'Cause none of the shit is going to mean shit where we're going\nThey tell you to stop, but you just sit there ignoring\nEven though you wake up feeling like shit every morning\nBut you're young\nYou've got a lot of drugs to do\nGirls to screw\nParties to crash\nSucks to be you\nIf I could take it all back now, I wouldn't\nI would have did more shit that people said that I shouldn't\nBut I'm all grown up now and upgraded and graduated\nDid better drugs and updated\nBut I've still got a lot of growing up to do\nI've still got a whole lot of throwing up to spew\nBut when it's all said and done I'll be 40\nBefore I know it with a 40 on the porch telling stories\nWith a bottle of Jack\nTwo grandkids in my lap\nBabysitting for Hailie while Hailie's out getting smashed\n\n\n\n\nDrugs really got a hold of me\nThey really got a hold of me\n'Cause drugs really got a hold of me\nThey really got a hold of me"},
{"year": "2000", "title": "Steve Berman (Skit)", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP\" (2000)", "lyrics": "'eyyy!\n Hey Em, what's up?\n Steve Berman. What's goin' on, man, how you doin'? \nGood to see you again. What's up?\n Em, could you come in here and have a seat, please?\n Umm, yeah, what's...\n Vanessa? Shut the door\n Okay \n So what's up? How's orders looking for the first week?\n It would be better if you gave me nothing at all\n Wh...\n This album is less than nothing. I can't sell this fucking record\n Wha...\n Do you know what's happening to me out there?\n Wh-wha-what's the problem?\n Violent Ground told me to go fuck myself!\n Who's Violent...?\n Tower Records told me to shove this record up my ass! \nDo you know what it feels like \nto be told to have a record shoved up your ass?\n But, I...\n I'm gonna lose my fuckin' job over this \nYou know why Dre's record was so successful? \nHe's rappin' about big-screen T.V.s, blunts, 40's and bitches. \nYou're rappin' about homosexuals and Vicadin\n I mean-\n I can't sell this shit!\n What...\n Either change the record or it's not coming out!\n What, I...\n Now get the fuck out of my office!\n What am I supposed...\n NOW!\n Alright man...."},
{"year": "1998", "title": "Just Don't Give A Fuck", "album": "\"Slim Shady EP\" (1998)", "lyrics": "Whoa!\nA get your hands in the air, and get to clapping 'em\nAnd like, back and forth because ah\nThis is what you thought it wasn't\nIt beez the brothers representin' the Dirty Dozen\nI be the F-R-O the double G \nAnd check out the man he goes by the name of er...\n\n\nSlim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady\nI'm a M80, you Lil' like that Kim lady\nI'm buzzing, Dirty Dozen, naughty rotten rhymer\nCursing at you players worse than Marty Schottenheimer\nYou wacker than the motherfucker you bit your style from\nYou ain't gonna sell two copies if you press a double album\nAdmit it, fuck it, while we coming out in the open\nI'm doing acid, crack, smack, coke and smoking dope then\nMy name is Marshall Mathers, I'm an alcoholic (Hi Marshall)\nI have a disease and they don't know what to call it\nBetter hide your wallet 'cause I'm coming up quick to strip your cash\nBought a ticket to your concert just to come and whip your ass\nBitch, I'm coming out swinging, so fast it'll make your eyes spin\nYou getting knocked the fuck out like Mike Tyson\nThe +Proof+ is in the pudding, just ask the Deshaun Holton\nI'll slit your motherfucking throat worse than Ron Goldman\n\n\nSo when you see me on your block with two glocks\nScreaming \"Fuck the World\" like Tupac\nI just don't give a fuck!\nTalking that shit behind my back, dirty mackin\nTelling your boys that I'm on crack\nI just don't give a fuck!\nSo put my tape back on the rack\nGo run and tell your friends my shit is wack\nI just don't give a fuck!\nBut see me on the street and duck\n'Cause you gon' get stuck, stoned and snuffed\n'Cause I just don't give a fuck!\n\n\nI'm nicer than Pete, but I'm on a Search to crush a Milkbone\nI'm everlasting, I melt Vanilla Ice like silicone\nI'm ill enough to just straight up diss you for no reason\nI'm colder than snow season when it's twenty below freezing\nFlavor with no seasoning, this is the sneak preview\nI'll diss your magazine and still won't get a weak review\nI'll make your freak leave you, smell the Folgers crystals\nThis is a lyrical combat, gentlemen hold your pistols\nBut I form like Voltron and blast you with my shoulder missiles\nSlim Shady, Eminem was the old initials (Bye-bye!)\nExtortion, snorting, supporting abortion\nPathological liar, blowing shit out of proportion\nThe looniest, zaniest, spontaneous, sporadic\nImpulsive thinker, compulsive drinker, addict\nHalf animal, half man\nDumping your dead body inside of a fucking trash can\nWith more holes than an Afghan\n\n\n\n\nSomebody let me out this limousine (hey, let me out!)\nI'm a caged demon, on stage screaming like Rage Against The Machine\nI'm convinced I'm a fiend, shooting up while this record is spinning\nClinically brain dead, I don't need a second opinion\nFuck dropping the jewel, I'm flipping the sacred treasure\nI'll bite your motherfucking style, just to make it fresher\nI can't take the pressure, I'm sick of bitches\nSick of nagging bosses bitching while I'm washing dishes\nIn school I never said much, too busy having a headrush\nDoing too much rush had my face flushed like red blush\nThen I went to Jim Beam, that's when my face grayed\nWent to gym in eighth grade, raped the women's swim team\nDon't take me for a joke I'm no comedian\nToo many mental problems got me snorting coke and smoking weed again\nI'm going up over the curb, driving on the median\nFinally made it home, but I don't got the key to get in\n\n\n\n\nShit, fuck everything...\nOutsiders, Pace One, Young Zee.\nFuck the entire world..."},
{"year": "1996", "title": "W.E.G.O. (Interlude)", "album": "\"Infinite\" (1996)", "lyrics": "Yeah soul intent, checking it number one baby this week\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\nThis is MC Proof\n\n\nAnd DJ Head\n\n\nCheckin' in on W.E.G.O.\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\nAy yo we got the number one requested song, of the DAY coming up next.\nIt's a local thing wants retilin'\nIt goes by the name of Eminem\nAnd it's called \"It's OK\""},
{"year": "1999", "title": "Ken Kaniff (Skit)", "album": "\"Slim Shady LP\" (1999)", "lyrics": "Call this motherfucker \nOhh fuck yeah\nGive 'im a piece of my mind....\nA piece of my ass\n\n\nThanks for waiting\nThis is \nMay I help you?\n\n\nOh thank you\nI need to make a collect call\n\n\nWhat number?\n\n\nOhhh\nThe number's  62 \n\n\nAt the tone, please say your name (beep)\n\n\nKennith Kaniff....from Connecticut\nAutomated piece of shit\n\n\n\n Yo\n Hey there cockboy\n Who's this?\n This is Ken Kannif\n Who?\n Ken Kannif from Connecticut, ya little bitch\n From Connecticut?\n Yean you wanna get a...\n I don't know nobody in Connecticut\n You wanna get a hotel room with me?\n A hotel room?\n Yeah, you want me to lick your ass, EMINEM!?\n Ha.. Yo, wh, who is this? Cage?\n Hey, pa ha..\nYou want me ta fuckin melt in your mouth and not in your hand? \nMelt in your ass, ya little cockboy\n He k-k-k-k\nYo shut up you little bitch\n Oh you think I'm lyin huh?\nHa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha"},
{"year": "2002", "title": "Cleanin Out My Closet", "album": "\"The Eminem Show\" (2002)", "lyrics": "Where's my snare?\nI have no snare in my headphones - there you go\nYeah... yo, yo\n\nHave you ever been hated or discriminated against?\nI have; I've been protested and demonstrated against\nPicket signs for my wicked rhymes, look at the times\nSick as the mind of the motherfucking kid that's behind\nAll this commotion emotions run deep as ocean's exploding\nTempers flaring from parents just blow 'em off and keep going\nNot taking nothing from no one give 'em hell long as I'm breathing\nKeep kicking ass in the morning and taking names in the evening\nLeave 'em with a taste as sour as vinegar in they mouth\nSee they can trigger me, but they'll never figure me out\nLook at me now; I bet ya probably sick of me now ain't you mama?\nI'mma make you look so ridiculous now\n\nI'm sorry mama!\nI never meant to hurt you!\nI never meant to make you cry; but tonight\nI'm cleaning out my closet (one more time)\nI said I'm sorry mama!\nI never meant to hurt you!\nI never meant to make you cry, but tonight\nI'm cleaning out my closet\n\nHa! I got some skeletons in my closet\nAnd I don't know if no one knows it\nSo before they thrown me inside my coffin and close it\nI'mma expose it; I'll take you back to '73\nBefore I ever had a multi-platinum selling CD\nI was a baby, maybe I was just a couple of months\nMy faggot father must have had his panties up in a bunch\n'Cause he split, I wonder if he even kissed me goodbye\nNo I don't. On second thought I just fucking wished he would die\nI look at Hailie, and I couldn't picture leaving her side\nEven if I hated Kim, I grit my teeth and I'd try\nTo make it work with her at least for Hailie's sake\nI maybe made some mistakes\nBut I'm only human, but I'm man enough to face them today\nWhat I did was stupid, no doubt it was dumb\nBut the smartest shit I did was take them bullets outta that gun\n'Cause I'da killed him; shit I would've shot Kim and him both\nIt's my life, I'd like to welcome y'all to \"The Eminem Show\"\n\nI'm sorry mama!\nI never meant to hurt you!\nI never meant to make you cry; but tonight\nI'm cleaning out my closet (one more time)\nI said I'm sorry mama!\nI never meant to hurt you!\nI never meant to make you cry, but tonight\nI'm cleaning out my closet\n\nNow I would never diss my own mama just to get recognition\nTake a second to listen 'fore you think this record is dissing\nBut put yourself in my position; just try to envision\nWitnessing your mama popping prescription pills in the kitchen\nBitching that someone's always going through her purse and shit's missing\nGoing through public housing systems, victim of Munchhausen's Syndrome\nMy whole life I was made to believe I was sick when I wasn't\n'Til I grew up, now I blew up, it makes you sick to ya stomach\nDoesn't it? Wasn't it the reason you made that CD for me Ma?\nSo you could try to justify the way you treated me Ma?\nBut guess what? You're getting older now and it's cold when you're lonely\nAnd Nathan's growing up so quick he's gonna know that you're phony\nAnd Hailie's getting so big now; you should see her, she's beautiful\nBut you'll never see her - she won't even be at your funeral!\nSee what hurts me the most is you won't admit you was wrong\nBitch do your song - keep telling yourself that you was a mom!\nBut how dare you try to take what you didn't help me to get\nYou selfish bitch; I hope you fucking burn in hell for this shit\nRemember when Ronnie died and you said you wished it was me?\nWell guess what, I am dead - dead to you as can be!\n\nI'm sorry mama!\nI never meant to hurt you!\nI never meant to make you cry; but tonight\nI'm cleaning out my closet (one more time)\nI said I'm sorry mama!\nI never meant to hurt you!\nI never meant to make you cry, but tonight\nI'm cleaning out my closet\n\nI'm sorry mama!\nI never meant to hurt you!\nI never meant to make you cry; but tonight\nI'm cleaning out my closet (one more time)\nI said I'm sorry mama!\nI never meant to hurt you!\nI never meant to make you cry, but tonight\nI'm cleaning out my closet"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Mockingbird", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "Yeah\nI know sometimes things may not always make sense to you right now\nBut hey, what daddy always tell you?\nStraighten up little soldier\nStiffen up that upper lip\nWhat you crying about?\nYou got me.\n\nHailie, I know you miss your mom, and I know you miss your dad\nWhen I'm gone but I'm trying to give you the life that I never had\nI can see you're sad, even when you smile, even when you laugh\nI can see it in your eyes, deep inside you want to cry\n'Cause you're scared, I ain't there?\nDaddy's with you in your prayers\nNo more crying, wipe them tears\nDaddy's here, no more nightmares\nWe gon' pull together through it, we gon' do it\nLainie Uncle's crazy, ain't he?\nYeah, but he loves you girl and you better know it\nWe're all we got in this world\nWhen it spins, when it swirls\nWhen it whirls, when it twirls\nTwo little beautiful girls\nLookin' puzzled, in a daze\nI know it's confusing you\nDaddy's always on the move, mamma's always on the news\nI try to keep you sheltered from it but somehow it seems\nThe harder that I try to do that, the more it backfires on me\nAll the things growing up as daddy, that he had to see\nDaddy don't want you to see but you see just as much as he did\nWe did not plan it to be this way, your mother and me\nBut things have got so bad between us\nI don't see us ever being together ever again\nLike we used to be when we was teenagers\nBut then of course everything always happens for a reason\nI guess it was never meant to be\nBut it's just something we have no control over and that's what destiny is\nBut no more worries, rest your head and go to sleep\nMaybe one day we'll wake up and this will all just be a dream\n\n\nNow hush little baby, don't you cry\nEverything's gonna be alright\nStiffen that upper lip up, little lady, I told ya\nDaddy's here to hold ya through the night\nI know mommy's not here right now and we don't know why\nWe feel how we feel inside\nIt may seem a little crazy, pretty baby\nBut I promise mama's gon' be alright\n\n(Ha)\nIt's funny\nI remember back one year when daddy had no money\nMommy wrapped the Christmas presents up\nAnd stuck 'em under the tree and said some of 'em were from me\n'Cause daddy couldn't buy 'em\nI'll never forget that Christmas I sat up the whole night crying\n'Cause daddy felt like a bum, see daddy had a job\nBut his job was to keep the food on the table for you and mom\nAnd at the time every house that we lived in\nEither kept getting broken into and robbed\nOr shot up on the block and your mom was saving money for you in a jar\nTryna start a piggy bank for you so you could go to college\nAlmost had a thousand dollars 'til someone broke in and stole it\nAnd I know it hurt so bad it broke your mamma's heart\nAnd it seemed like everything was just startin' to fall apart\nMom and dad was arguin' a lot so momma moved back\nOn the Chalmers in the flat one bedroom apartment\nAnd dad moved back to the other side of 8 Mile on Novara\nAnd that's when daddy went to California with his CD and met Dr. Dre\nAnd flew you and momma out to see me\nBut daddy had to work, you and momma had to leave me\nThen you started seeing daddy on the T.V. and momma didn't like it\nAnd you and Lainnie were too young to understand it\nPapa was a rollin' stone, momma developed a habit\nAnd it all happened too fast for either one of us to grab it\nI'm just sorry you were there and had to witness it first hand\n'Cause all I ever wanted to do was just make you proud\nNow I'm sitting in this empty house, just reminiscing\nLookin' at your baby pictures, it just trips me out\nTo see how much you both have grown, it's almost like you're sisters now\nWow, I guess you pretty much are and daddy's still here\nLainnie I'm talkin' to you too, daddy's still here\nI like the sound of that, yeah\nIt's got a ring to it don't it?\nShh, mama's only gone for the moment\n\n\n\nAnd if you ask me to\nDaddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird\nI'mma give you the world\nI'mma buy a diamond ring for you\nI'mma sing for you\nI'll do anything for you to see you smile\nAnd if that mockingbird don't sing and that ring don't shine\nI'mma break that birdie's neck\nI'll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya\nAnd make him eat every carat don't fuck with dad (ha ha)"},
{"year": "2004", "title": "Crazy In Love", "album": "\"Encore\" (2004)", "lyrics": "I Tell myself that I'm doing alright\r\nNothing else to do tonight but\r\nTo go Crazy, Crazy On You\r\nLemme go Crazy, Crazy on you\r\nyouuuuuuuuu\r\n\r\n\r\nCan't you see what you do to me baby?\r\nYou make me crazy, you make me act like a maniac.\r\nI'm like a lunatic, you make me sick\r\nYou truly are the only one who can do this to me\r\nYou just make me get so crazy.\r\nI go skitzo, I get so insane I just go skitzophrenic\r\nOne minute I want to slit your throat\r\nThe next I want to sex.\r\nYou make me crazy,\r\nthe way we act like 2 maniacs in the sac\r\nWe fuck like 2 jackrabbits\r\nAnd maybe that's a bad habit.\r\nCuz the next day we're right back at it\r\nIn the same exact pattern\r\nWhat the fuck is the matter with us\r\nWe can't figure out if it's\r\nLust or it's love\r\nWhat's sad is what's attracting us to each other\r\nThey say that every man grows up to marry his own mother.\r\nWhich would explain why you're such a motherfucking bitch\r\nBut I stay and still stick it out with you even though I just hit you today\r\nBut you deserve it you hit me first and provoked me to choke you\r\nJust cuz I came home late last night crawled in bed and I woke you.\r\nBut if there's one thing about you I admire its, baby,\r\nBecause you stay with me, maybe, because you're as crazy as I am\r\nCuz when I look at you I can see an angel in your eyes\r\nBut if I look deeper inside I see your freakish little side.\r\nLike a devil in disguise,\r\nYou're always full of surprises\r\nAlways pullin' devises\r\nOut your purse, little vibrators and dildos\r\nYou fucked yourself so much\r\nYou barely feel those anymore\r\nYou're only 24 but you're plenty more mature\r\nThan those other little hoes\r\nWho just act like little girls\r\nLike they're in middle school still\r\nYou're crazy sexy cool, chillin\r\nYou play your position\r\nYou never step out of line\r\nEven though I stay in your business\r\nYou've always kept out of mine.\r\nI wonder whats on your mind\r\nSometimes they say love is blind\r\nMaybe that's why the first time I dotted your eye\r\nYou ain't see a sign.\r\n\r\n\r\nOr maybe you did Maybe you like being shoved\r\nMaybe cuz we're crazy in loooove\r\n\r\n\r\nCrazy on you\r\nCrazy on you\r\nLet me go crazy crazy on youuuuuuuuu\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nYou're the ink to my paper\r\nWhere my pen is to my pad\r\nThe moral, the very fiber\r\nThe whole substance to my rap.\r\nYou are my reason for being\r\nThe meaning of my existence\r\nIf it wasn't for you\r\nI would never be able to spit this\r\nAs intense I do and the irony\r\nIs you rely on me as much\r\nas I rely on you to inspire me like you do.\r\nYou provide me the lighter fluid to fuel my fire\r\nYou're my entire supply\r\nGas, the match, the igniter.\r\nThe only way that I am able to stay so stable\r\nIs you're the legs to my table\r\nIf you were to break I'd fall on my face.\r\nBut I'm always going to make you feel\r\nI don't need you as much as I really need you\r\nSo you don't use it to your advantage.\r\nBut you're essential to me\r\nYou're the air I breathe\r\nI believe if you ever leave me\r\nI'd probably have no reason to be.\r\nYou are the Kim to my Marshall\r\nYou're the Slim to my Shady\r\nThe Dre to my Eminem\r\nThe Elaina to my Hailey.\r\nYou are the word I am looking for when\r\nI'm trying to describe how I feel inside\r\nAnd the right one just won't come to my mind.\r\nYou're like the pillar that props me up\r\nThe beam that supports me\r\nThe bitch who never took half,\r\nThe wife who never divorced me.\r\nYou're like the root to my evil\r\nYou let my devil come out me\r\nYou let me beat the shit out you\r\nBefore you beat the shit out me.\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nAnd no matter how much\r\nToo much is never enough\r\nMaybe cuz we're crazy in loooove\r\n\r\n\r\nI'm crazy on you\r\nCrazy on you\r\nLet me go crazy crazy on youuuuuuuuu"},
{"year": "2005", "title": "Fack", "album": "\"Curtain Call\" (2005)", "lyrics": "Ow ow oww\nOh God damn\nI'm gonna fackin' cum\nOh shit, oh yeah\nFack fack faaaack\nFack I am\nI am,\nI'm going to cum\nI'm cumming\n\nI never seen no shit like this\nThis bitch can twist like a damn contortionist\nCondom on my dick\nOf course it is\nThis bitch don't know what abortion is\nSo I can't cum in her\nFucks like a porn star\nLooks like Jenna\nFack I'm gonna\nCum\nI think my rubbers coming off\nBut oh it's so fuckin' wet and soft\nFuck I'm gonna start letting off\nI'm squirting and she's not getting off\nAnd she's on top\nI'm gonna fucking, oh God\nOh don't do that\nDon't stop\nStop, don't, I don't mean don't stop\nAh Wait a minute\nOh ohh fack\nI'm gonna fucking cum\n\nOw ow oww\nOh God damn\nI'm gonna fackin' cum\nOh shit, oh yeah\nFack fack fack\nFack I am\nI am,\nI'm going to cum\nI'm cumming\n\nOh wow oh aww\nI need a cigarette now\nOh I'm so fucking hot and you're so fuckin' hot\nOh my God\nI wanna facking fack\nNo, not fuck\nI said fack\nF A C K F A C K\nFack fack fack facking freak me\nOh yeah girl see baby\nThey call me Mr. Freaky\nLet's call your sister threeway\nHave some threesome\nMe so horny\nAnd you're such a fuckin' babe\nI wanna go down on you\nFack you shave\nOh God damn\nHere I go again\nI'm gonna cum, I am\n\nOw ow oww\nOh God damn\nI'm gonna fackin' cum\nOh shit, oh yeah\nFack fack fack\nFack I am\nI am,\nI'm going to cum\nI'm cumming\n\nOkay I'm done\nI already came twice\nYou ain't gonna make me cum\nI'm all out of gas\nNot so fast\nAh Your finger just went in my ass\nAhh that hurts take it out now\nOh wait a minute put it back in\nIn in in\nThis don't mean I'm gay, I don't like men\nI like boobs\nBoobs boobs\nNow See that gerbil\nGrab that tube\nShove it up my butt\nLet that little rascal nibble on my asshole\nOh yeah right there, right there\nUhhh I'm cumming\nOh yeah\nFack I just came again\nOk pull it out now\nOh fuck yeah\nWait he's not out\nHe's still crawling around up there\nOh fack I think it's stuck\nOh but it feels so fucking good\n\nOw ow oww\nOh God damn\nI'm gonna fackin'cum\nOh shit, oh yeah\nFack fack fack\nFack I am\nI am,\nI'm going to cum\nI'm cumming\n\nShove a gerbil in your ass\nThrough a tube\nShove a gerbil in your ass\nThrough a tube\nShove a gerbil in your ass\nThrough a tube\nShove a gerbil in your ass\nThrough a tube\nEwww\nEww ewww ewww"},
{"year": "2006", "title": "You Don't Know", "album": "\"Eminem Presents The Re-Up\" (2006)", "lyrics": "Yeah...\r\n\r\n\r\nWho run it?\r\nYou know, you acting like you don't know\r\nWe run it\r\nYou know but you acting like you don't know\r\nWho run it?\r\nYou know, you acting like you don't know\r\nWe run it\r\nYou know but you acting like you don't know\r\n\r\nYou know, you acting like you don't know\r\nI tear the club up fo' sho'\r\nThis flow is gon' bring mo dough\r\nAnd you know but you acting like you don't know\r\n\r\n\r\nNow homie I say I run it (run it) cause I'm in control\r\nHypnotic, Hennessey, a couple shots of Patron\r\nI have you feeling aight, I get you high as a kite\r\nParty popping shawty says she coming with me tonight\r\nI ain't shoulder leaning, I ain't snapping and popping\r\nEither I'm bobbin ma head or I'm just standing their watching\r\nI'm a hustler I hustle, you can tell that I'm paid\r\nAnd I protect what I got, I'm in the house with my blade\r\nNigga you front you gone get it, OK now maybe I said it\r\nCause I want you to triddy, yeah I be on that shitty\r\nYou should see when I'm stunting, I flash the stones to be wanting\r\nPush the whip, see me rolling, you can tell that I'm holding\r\nI'm just doing ma thang, you know the Units the game\r\nI got my grimy Shady with me you front you gonna have to get me off your ass\r\nI pay the lawsuit and laugh (haha)\r\nIt's not a big deal it's nothing but some cash (let's go)\r\n\r\n\r\nWho run it?\r\nYou know, you acting like you don't know\r\nI tear the club up fo' sho'\r\nThis flow is gon' bring mo dough\r\nAnd you know but you acting like you don't know\r\nWho run it?\r\nYou know, you acting like you don't know\r\nI tear the club up fo' sho'\r\nThis flow is gon' bring mo dough\r\nAnd you know but you acting like you don't know\r\n\r\n\r\nWhen me and Fif got together to do this music\r\nThe more we became enveloped we just developed a fellowship through it\r\nIt's no pretend shit, it's friendship, me nemesis is su nemesis\r\nAin't for him, it's just media, see to them it's just images\r\nBut this shit is no gimmicks, this is blood in and blood out\r\nWhen there's beef you jus' gotta know when to butt in and butt out\r\nIf there's a problem we solve it, if we don't resolve it\r\nIt usually just evolves into one big brawl and we all get involved in it\r\nWe should all get a merit, this much beef we inherit\r\nAnd wear it like a badge with honor, pass it around and share it\r\nAnd let it go to whoever's holding the most current beef on their shoulders\r\nAnd their soldiers got their backs 'til it's over\r\nBut tonight, we ain't coming here to beef with nobody\r\nWe came to party, Banks, Cashis and Mr. Ferrari\r\nSo it's Shady Aftermizat back in that ass, you wizzass\r\nCome hizzon what kinda fuzukin quizition is that\r\n\r\n\r\nWho run it?\r\nYou know, you acting like you don't know\r\nI tear the club up fo' sho'\r\nThis flow is gon' bring mo dough\r\nAnd you know but you acting like you don't know\r\nWho run it?\r\nI say you know, you acting like you don't know\r\nI tear the club up fo' sho'\r\nThis flow is gon' bring mo dough\r\nAnd you know but you acting like you don't know\r\n\r\n\r\nPistol play ricochet, see where the victim lay\r\nSlumped over bleeding J.F.K\r\nHays K to your chest plate cave\r\nI ride to the death, do you rep that way?\r\nForever ima be a Shady 7-4 gangsta\r\nPlus I survive everything you got in that chamber\r\nI thrive off of danger, jumping in all beef\r\nYou keep talking shit now the squad called me\r\n\r\n\r\nEnough holding back the steam, Em let off a magazine\r\nDappadon Cappa queen mixed in with Cashis creams\r\nStarted off with half a dream, developed into what you see\r\nTelling ain't my cup of tea, can't tell I'm a fucking G\r\nI'm on automatic when I'm at it, start static\r\nAnd you splattered, shit shattered, I'm a walking bitch magnet\r\nSpit it how I live it, live it all the way to the limit\r\nAnd I'm always on my pivot for my digits, you dig it?\r\n\r\n\r\nWho run it?\r\nYou know, you acting like you don't know\r\nI tear the club up fo sho\r\nThis flow is gon' bring mo dough\r\nAnd you know but you acting like you don't know\r\nWho run it?\r\nYou know, you acting like you don't know\r\nI tear the club up fo sho\r\nThis flow is gon' bring mo dough\r\nAnd you know but you acting like you don't know\r\nWho run it?\r\n\r\n\r\nYou know who this is\r\nShady, G-Unit, Aftermath\r\nLloyd Bands, Cashis, Marshall Mathers, Ferrari F-50\r\nIt's a movement, you can't stop it\r\nTalk of New York, Tony Yayo..."},
{"year": "2009", "title": "Paul (Skit)", "album": "\"Relapse\" (2009)", "lyrics": "Paul Em its Paul...ummm I just listened the entire album..\r\nand you gotta be fuckin kidding me I mean with this Christopher Reeves\r\nShit You know the guys dead right? \r\nand then the whole gay step father incest rape thing I don't have your back on this one I cant even fuckin handle it I'm done"},
{"year": "2010", "title": "Cinderella Man", "album": "\"Recovery\" (2010)", "lyrics": "Yeah,\nYou know, technically, I'm not even really supposed to be here right now,\nSo fuck it, might as well make the most of it.\n\n(Amen!)\nYeah, haha\n(Amen!)\nFeels good,\n(Amen!)\nWhooo,\n(Amen!)\nGuess I'm lucky,\n(Amen!)\nSome of us don't get a second chance.\n(Amen!)\nBut I ain't blowing this one.\n(Amen!)\nNaw man, haha\n(Amen!)\nShit I feel like I can do anything now.\n\nWho can catch lightning in a bottle? Set fire to water?\nComin' out the nozzle on the fire hose, flier than swatters?\n\nCinderella man, Cinderella man, Cinderella man, Cinderella man.\n\nSmash an hourglass, grab the sand, take his hands and cup 'em,\nSpit a rhyme to freeze the clock, take the hands of time and cuff 'em.\n\nCinderella man, Cinderella man, Cinderella man, Cinderella man.\n\nThere's a storm comin' that the weather man couldn't predict,\nI start the bug prick, you better flee cause I get ticked\nIt's a rap, I was down, when I was down I was kicked.\nI got up I'm back to punch ya to the ground, ya trick,\nIt's a trap, fuck my last CD that shits in my trash,\nI be goddamned if another rapper gets in my ass,\nI hit the gas and I spit every rap as if it's my last.\nYou can die in the blink of an eye, so bat ya eyelashes,\nAnd keep winking and blowin' kisses 'cause you're flirting with death\nI'm destroying your livelihood. I ain't just hurtin' your rep',\nI catch a flow and get goin',\nNo remorse I'm showin', ain't slowin' for no one,\nKnowin' there is nothin' you can do about it\nZeroin' on the target like a marksman,\nThe target is you.\nI shut ya lane down,\nTook ya spot, parked in it too,\nArsenic flow, lighter fluid, saliva what can ya do?\nGo get ya crew to hype you up stand behind you like whoooo!\n\nThat boy's hot enough to melt Hell, burn Satan too:\nFry his ass, and put his ashes back together with glue,\nSee you can hate 'em, he don't blame you frankly he would too,\nThis game could ill-afford to lose him, how bout you?\n\nNow guess who (hey),\nHere's a clue (hey),\nHe came to the ball in a wife beater, lost his Nike shoe,\nIt's in ya ass (hey),\nHe's in ya ass, he's all up in your psyche too,\nNow what's his name?\n\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man, (hey, hey)\n\nIf I had a time machine\nI'd be\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nMusic is my time machine, so call me\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\n\nFuck catching lightnin'\nHe struck it\nScreamed \"Shut up!\" at thunder,\nAnd flipped the world upside down and made it rain upward\n\nCinderella man, Cinderella man, Cinderella man, Cinderella man.\n\nRewound the future to the present, paused it don't ask how,\nFuck the past motherfucker he's the shit right now\nHe's\n\nCinderella man, Cinderella man, Cinderella man, Cinderella man.\n\nCinderella man\nSend the fellow Shady dane came to wrap the game up in cellophane,\nRaise up from hell he came,\nBut didn't come to bore you with the Cinderella story,\nNor did he come to do the same,\nOr can't afford to be a label in this day and age,\nAnd at this stage of the game\nMediocrity can no longer be allowed to fly,\nSo say bye,\nTo the old H.I.\nTo the new, Que Sera\nConsider it his last hurrah\nCoup de grace\nRaise 'em high in the sky,\nKeep 'em up\nTime to bring the place alive,\nThanks for being patient\nI will make no more mistakes,\nShit my potato's baked,\nHomie the veggies on my plate can fly,\nMy fillet is smoking weed,\nYea faggot the stakes are high\nShit I ain't even suppose to be here\nBy the grace of God,\nThe skin on my teeth\nAnd the hair on my nuts I skated by,\nNow y'all are on thin ice\nWith ankle weights I hate to lie,\nHow fuckin' irritated are you?\nHow much in your face am I?\nAnd ain't shit you can do but fear it\nProof is here in spirit and\nAnd I'm the spittin' image\nI'll mirror it\nWhen I stand near it,\nYour pussy lyric,\nI cunt hear it,\nWho forms pyramids and raps circles around square lyricists?\n\nWho?\nHere's a clue.\nHe came to the ball in his wife beater,\nLost his Nike shoe,\nIt's in ya ass, he's in ya ass, he's all up in ya psyche too.\nNow, what's his name?\n\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man, (hey, hey)\n\nIf I had a time machine\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\n\nMusic is my time machine\nSo call me\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man,\nCinderella man."},
{"year": "2013", "title": "Legacy", "album": "\"The Marshall Mathers LP 2\" (2013)", "lyrics": "Tell me where to go, tell me what to do\nI'll be right there for you\nTell me what to say, no matter if it's true\nI'll say it all for you\n\n\nI used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky is falling\nWhy am I so differently wired? Am I a martian?\nWhat kind of twisted experiment am I involved in?\n'Cause I don't belong in this world\nThat's why I'm scoffing at authority, defiant often\nFlying off at the handle at my mom, no dad\nSo I am non-compliant at home, at school I'm just shy and awkward\nAnd I don't need no goddamn psychologist\nTryna diagnose why I have all these underlying problems\nThinking he can try and solve them\nI'm outside chalking up drawings on the sidewalk\nAnd in the front drive talking to myself\nEither that or inside hiding off in the corner somewhere quiet\nTrying not to be noticed 'cause I'm crying and sobbing\nI had a bad day at school so I ain't talking\nSome cocksucker shoved me into a fucking locker\n'Cause he said that I eyeballed him\n\nAnd if you fall, I'll get you there\nI'll be your savior from all the wars that are fought\nInside your world\nPlease have faith in my words\n\n'Cause this is my legacy, legacy, eh\nThis is my legacy, legacy, eh\nThere's no guarantee,\nIt's not up to me,\nWe can only see\nThis is my legacy, legacy\nLegacy, legacy\n\n\nI used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky is falling\nWhy am I so differently wired in my noggin?\n'Cause sporadic as my thoughts come, it's mind boggling\n'Cause I obsess on everything in my mind small shit\nBothers me but not my father, he said Sayonara then split\nBut I don't give a shit I'm fine long as\nThere's batteries in my Walkman nothing's the matter with me\nShit look on the bright side at least I ain't walking\nI bike ride through the neighborhood of my apartment\nComplex on a ten speed which I've acquired parts that I\nFind in the garbage, a frame, then put tires on it\nHeadphones on look straight ahead if kids try and start shit\nBut if this is all there is for me life offers\nWhy bother even try and put up a fight, it's nonsense\nBut I think a light bulb just lit up in my conscience\nWhat about them rhymes I've been jottin'\nThey're kinda giving me confidence\nInstead of tryna escape through my comics,\nWhy don't I just blast a little something like Onyx\nTo put me in the mood to wanna fight and write songs that\nSay what I wanna say to the kid that said that I eyeballed him\nGrab hold of my balls like that's right fight's on bitch\nWho would've knew from the moment I turned the mic on that\nI could be iconic, and my conquest\nIs word to Phife Dawg from a tribe called Quest\n\nThis is my legacy, legacy, eh\nThis is my legacy, legacy, eh\nThere's no guarantee,\nIt's not up to me,\nWe can only see\nThis is my legacy, legacy\nLegacy, legacy\n\n\nI used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky is falling\nNow I think the fact that I'm differently wired's awesome\n'Cause if I wasn't I wouldn't be able to work\nWords like this and connect lines like crosswords\nAnd use my enemy's words as strength\nTo try and draw from, and get inspired off em\n'Cause all my life I was told and taught I am not shit\nBy you wack fucking giant sacks of lying dog shit\nNow you shut up bitch, I am talking\nThought I was full of horseshit and now\nYou fucking worship the ground in which I am walking\nMe against the world so what? I'm Brian Dawkins\nVersus the whole 0 and 16 Lions offense\nSo bring on the Giants Falcons and Miami Dolphins\nIt's the body bag game bitch I'm supplying coffins\n'Cause you dicks, butt kiss, a bunch of Brian Baldingers\nYou gon' die a ball licker I've been diabolical\nWith this dialogue since 99 Rawkus\nYou don't respect the legacy I leave behind y'all can\nSuck a dick, the day you beat me pigs'll fly out my ass\nIn a flying saucer full of Italian sausage\nThe most high exalting and I ain't halting\nTill I die of exhaustion inhale my exhaust fumes\nThe best part about me is I am not you\nI'm me and I'm the Fire Marshall and this is my\n\nLegacy, legacy, eh\nThis is my legacy, legacy, eh\nThere's no guarantee, it's not up to me, we can only see\nThis is my legacy, legacy\nLegacy, legacy"},
{"year": null, "title": "Vegas", "album": null, "lyrics": "Got a shitty grin, bitch show me them itty-bitty titties again\nWe're in Sin City, since when did we begin to get addicted to dope\nDiggity, bitch, you need to run and go get your friggidy-friends\nI'm looking at your bum-stickidy-bum hun\nThe migidy mac's, bigidy back\nDon't act wigidy-wack, you can get the figidy-finger, the middle\nYou little dizzy bitch, sit spiggidy spin\nGot a 6 o' clock craving, stop get Ciroc\nIt's about to be an unbelievable night\nI call it surreal, Sir Mix a Lot tape in\nHit the spot, spot my next victim up\nPicky like I missed a spot shaving\nCame to sip vodka, shit yeah, that little chick is hot but if she got rabies\nI wouldn't give the bitch a shot, I poke her in the rear\nBut I bet if I lick her, she'll try to chase me (Haha)\nWhat are you pit, rott, mixed oh, you just got fixed well shit then let's lip-lock\nIf not then trick piss off you snobby little pig snot nose\nYou think you're hot shit cause you're in heat\nWell, bitch, if you're solar\nThen I'm your polar opposite dog cause I'm colder than popsicle sticks, poppin' shit\nTalkin' it, walkin' it, spit rocks\nThen my sick thoughts are about to lick shots\nLike this shit's hopping, and drip-dropping in chocolate-ly whip-topping\nSo whether you're Hip Hop, Slipknot, Big, Pac\nKid Rock, Kris Kross, Rick Ross, you'll dig this\nIf not then kick rocks in flip flops\nAnd I produced the track\nSo you don't have to ask who it is when this shit knocks (TURN UP!)\nSo bring clairvoyance to this bangin and I'm a keep on saying\nAll the shit I should be hung for, and probably killed for saying\nAnd I probably will, but not until the day I pop a pill again\nLike chopping 'til I'm dropping, still if that don't do the job of killing Shady, then the karma will, insane him\nI'm as brainy Mohammad until the Parkinson's done eat away my brain\nAnd made me Robin Williams crazy\nOr I end up with dementia, but you rocking with a sadist\nSo you can say this, but if the thought is entertaining\nI ain't stopping to explain it\nOh my God, for real man, not again I'm shaking\nBut before I tie a rope around this nob\nIf they don't like it, got a knob they can slob on until it's-\nWait I just forgot what I was thinking...\nWhat's it called again? I'm blanking\nSomething about the balls between my legs and I think I can feel it dangling, it's throbbing and it's veiny\nWait I think I got it, okay bitch I got you, Robin Williams hanging\nLet's Go hang in the lobby unless you came to slob me\nCome on kemosabe\nIt's past time, like your favorite hobby\nCause if the way that I spit shit remains on my dick then she grab me by the nuts and tried to take my sausage as a hostage\nAin't it obvious? Pretty much a no brainer, or should I say Cobainer?\nThat she's plain addicted to my dick like Lorena Bobbit\nGot a wean her off it, weiner off it like she took my fucking penis, chopped it, and stuck it up between her armpits\nAnd she begun to swing a crumpet knife and paint the carpet, at least that's what her train of thought is\nCause I came, saw, conquered, hit it, quit it, and made up a plane of bonkers\nAnd I always end up giving these bitches some complex\nAnd I don't mean apartment\nSo spread your feet apart\nAnd let me see you do some yoga stretches, splits\nNow grab this Cuisinart\nAnd make me breakfast, bitch, that's a prerequisite\nAnd that's just to get in this bedroom, bitch\nWalked up to that Ke$ha chick (what up?)\nSaid my names Booger, wanna catch a flick?\nI'll even let you pick, make her fetch a stick\nBet you if you get this old dog these new tricks\nTo get familiar with I'll learn extra quick\nKick a pregnant bitch, oops, I guess the shit\nTook an unexpected twist like the neck of the freaking exorcist\nBitch, I said that this mask ain't for hockey\nHate Versace, Versace, I got M\u00fcnchhausen by proxy\nI'm making you sick, don't pretend you can't hear me\nYou deaf, girl, I said you was foxy\nI'll tell a bitch like Bizarre\nBitch, shut the fuck up and get in my car\nAnd suck my fucking dick while I take a shit\nAnd I think with my dick so come blow my mind\nAnd it tastes like humble pie\nSo swallow my pride, you're lucky just to follow my ride\nIf I let you run alongside the Humvee\nUnless you're Nicki, grab you by the wrist, let's skeet\nSo what's it gon' be? Put that shit away Iggy\nYou gon' blow that rape whistle on me\n(Scream!) I love it\n'Fore I get lost with the gettin' off\nLike this is our exit, now let's hit the highway and try not to get lost\n'Till we get to Las Vegas\n\n\n(Party, do it 'till tomorrow)\nVegas\n'Till we get to Las Vegas\n(Party, do it 'till tomorrow)\nVegas\n'Till we get to Las Vegas\n(Party, do it 'till tomorrow)\nVegas\n'Till we get to Las Vegas\n(Party, do it 'till tomorrow)\nVegas\n\n\nWhatever happens here, stays here\nSo let's go all the way dear\nTil we get to Las Vegas\n\n\nWhatever happens in my room, it stays in my room like movie night like cable\nTreat every women in my stable like flavors\nLooking like she kryptonite and I get weak after like 7 days\nIn 7 nights in the days Inn it's our Vegas\nWe roll in circles in packs... we the lifesavers\nShe got a boyfriend, I got a toy then\nI'll bring her with me when I show up to her crib waving\nAnd I ain't tryna be the nice neighbor\nI'm so Jay Electronic, I'm cut like I'm all out of razors\nAnd all I got is a gun left with a bayonet on it\nNext ho froze and it look like I walked in to a jewelry store\nWith a about a million dollars with your mama\nAnd sat down n did the ALS challenge, haaaan\nI stole that adlib from French, Bad & Evil back at it again\nAbout to get my back tatted again\nAbout to get a pic of a backstabber with an axe in his hand\nSitting on a bike in the sand\nIf you ain't been through nothing\nThen that shouldn't mean nothing to you like lice on a gram\nIf she current I keep her pussy purring like the pipes on a Lam\nWeed got her so chinky eyed\nLook like she been getting high on a flight to Japan\nI keep my jewelry on while I'm fucking\nSound like I'm shaking up dice in a can\nListen, though this ain't Christmas I make you my ex miss\nIf this is my passion\nI learn to give those who don't appreciate my presence\nThe gift of my absence\nI don't know who you been listening to\nGot me fucked up like Pookie in the chicken coop\nBitch, I don't give a two shits\nBitch, get the fuck out of my face\nTo make a long story short, I don't really gotta stand there\nAnd listen to you while you throw a silly tantrum\nEven though I have an affinity for witty banter\nStarting to feel like foulplay like Billy Laimbeer\nHold up, she misunderstood me\nI said take parvour four\nThought I said the wraith had four doors\nI knock a nigga face off\nGive him the bottom of the nine like a baseball scoreboard (whatever...)\nI leave the club with my tab still open\nWon't even get a cab for you and your friend\nThe only fear I have is of loathing\nAnd I won't even kick in 'till we get to Las Vegas"},
{"year": null, "title": "Y'all Ready Know", "album": null, "lyrics": "Yo, yo, yo\nThis your man Royce Da 5'9\"\nThis your dude Crooked I\nMan, Jump off Joe Beezy\nIt's Joell Ortiz\n\n\nYa'll ready, ya'll ready, y'all ready know, Slaughterhouse\n\n\nLittle niggas get your weight up fuck y'all, pay up\nMy bars just as slick as my dick and both stay up\nNicer than me, say what? Wait up, straight up\nI finish niggas right off the bat like a layup\nI seen a lot of come, I seen a lot of go\nBut y'all know where I'm from, B-R double O\nYou know the rest pimpin', yeah, I was bred different\nHere come pops with the NY bop, you know, the leg limpin'\nMy ice mug frozen till it's stiff\nGrimy nigga, might wanna hold onto your bitch\nI got a way with women, I faithfully play with women\nLet 'em suck on this bottle and pray that I throw a baby in 'em\nI might just throw 'em a gold fronts\nPour up a cup of E & J and light up a dro blunt\nI was never soft, never saw me flinchin' when they lettin' off\nNever had to retaliate cause I set it off\n\n\n\n\nYa'll know my name, bitch, never change up my language\nI'm just a rich nigga from a city that's bankrupt\nFirst we take oath\nThen I'm pulling turquoise strings in my Lebron corks In Turks and Caicos\nI came from wicked chair fame wearin' short sets\nI learned that money can't buy happiness\nBut I decided I'd rather do all my cryin' in the Corvette\nMake a dollar, buy a suit\nHave a child, and have 'em follow suit\nWavin' that weatherchange things\nMake the winter fall, coming through with everything to lose\nTaking everything from you know\nLet him finish his fall in his draws\nAnd pray that he land on that minute hand in my Hublot\nI'm about that Art Of War gospel\nThat Basquiat Picasso drawing a roscoe\nUsing the blood of a usual thug who was told die slow\nYour money on me, bet it all, you know I'mma set it off\n\n\n\n\nLet's skip the small talk and get right to the wealth\nTruth is I give a fuck, but it's right to myself\nFuck fame, keep the shit I write to myself\nIf what I do is therapeutic, man, the slightest shit helps\nMade angel dust my freshman year\nGave it a try, cool, little did I knew\nHad the wrong meaning of high school\nTeachers called him a sociopath and a liar\nFuck them, only went to class for the cyphers\nNow I'm gettin' bills for\nThe same thinking they tried to prescribe pills for\nThey said I needed a wrench, I'm a loose screw\nVital, suicidal, said I would kill mi amour\nWasn't speakin' in French, said I'd let it off\nNever know who or what you might get\nMain reason they never want me to set it off\nYou now dealing with four niggas that's never off\nAll bets off, so nah, you won't be better off\n\n\n\n\nJewish tats arm on my arm like a Semitic boss\nEgyptian art hanging, uh, that's my Kemetic cross\nSlaughterhouse set it off\nEven got bitches wavin' our flag, Betsy Ross\nOld school Chevy, the head is off\nDecapitated Impala\nHeavy lack from the weight of the llama\nStill bear arms like a shaven koala\nHow you thinkin' like a faded neurology student\nIs prudent when chasin' a dollar\nSo never mind, a clever rhyme\nI'd rather find a better grind, forever times\nSittin' behind me because I'm ahead of mine\nIn this era I'm livin' outside of the paradigm\nI'm comin' outside with a pair of dimes\nSharon and Caroline\nShare a line then they share a 9 inch, never mind\nI probably shouldn't even keep going\nCause these rappers keep hoein' with their teeth showing\nI set it off"},
{"year": "2014", "title": "ShadyXV", "album": "\"Shady XV\" (2014)", "lyrics": "I'm liable to start a violent spark with a silent thought\nI disgust you like dialogue from The Shop to The Wired Frog\nNight club, shit, I was taught if your CD's on fire\nYou had to put it out yourself like Highland Park, no fire department\nSo you might not hear sirens at all\nBut don't be alarmed if I sound off\nSomething just ain't right with me, dawg\nA martyr on a private charter, whose life could be harder?\nWidely regarded highly, bite me, sweetheart, I'm slightly retarded\nBut tonight I'm starting shit, I'm feeling self righteous\nI might just hop in a mosh pit on some Mike Tyson and Pac shit\nLooking to box with anybody, disorderly conduct\nI'll fuck around and snort a key and pick a fight with a locksmith\nFan of the LOX, bananas, manic, I'm going in shock\nFrantic, I'm trapped in a closet\nPanic attack cause I'm claustrophobic\nNo, faggot, I mean I can't maneuver from movement\nCause I have no room for improvement\nI'm practically squashed, unpacked it and boxed it\nToxic, hands are arsenic, flammable bars, examine the content\nBar exam, start of insanity\nCharles Hamilton slash Manson and Bronson\nAnimal snarls, cannibal jaws\nShark mandibles, lambs to the slaughter\nLooking scamp as Hannibal stalking\nAnthony Hopkins with his hands in his pockets\nBlack out, Zach Galifianakis, gallons of Vodka\nBut that gal has some knockers\nI bet you they ring a bell when I come back and I'm conscious\nWhat happened, doc? I passed out again\nAlcohol's making me break into vacant's naked\nStole a Magnum box and bag Cirocs in back of a Datsun\nFell asleep watching Fear Factor and Scare Tactics\nToo close to the StairMaster\nPoked a hole in the air mattress and popped it\nWoke up shortly thereafter, hungover\nNo underwear, grasping a Bayer Aspirin and dropped it\nAir Max in my closet, preposterous Nikes made out of ostrich\nAnd the cross stitching is a cross mixing\nOf a rhinoceros, possum skin, giraffe and a dolphin\nFin Dockers, OshKoshes, drop crotches\nSwatch watches and sneakers matches with the Parkers\nBut it's like being overstaffed at a boxing gym\nWith all these trainers, but I don't have any boxers\nAnd I'm standing here naked, hangover, still wasted\nLike paper you write raps on, obnoxious\nYo, why does it always sound like I'm grabbing my nostrils?\nFuck that, I'll battle 'em all, I'll battle a mall\nI\u2019ll stand there and yell that at a wall\nUntil the mannequin doll scatter and the inanimate objects\nThat I'm battering all shatter and fall\nCause I hear the track and I'm starting to get fucking amped\nI'mma spark plug, I'm like the car with the cables hooked up to my fucking back, I'm a Duracell\nBut I sure as hell got it backwards cause y'all could get jumped\nAnd I'd catch the battery charge, but\nI got a hunch like your back when it's arching\nWhen I start attacking your squadron\nYou'll feel like MasterCard when I'm charging\nSo take a swipe at me, I'm coming straight at you\nLike Clay Matthews from the Green Bay Packers\nSo get the sack of Wisconsin\nThat's nutbag that I'm talking, who am I kidding?\nYou faggots are all gonna do my bidding\nDon't get dragged to the auction\nNeiman Marcus, bags of Vuitton and all\nI'll push a bitch into oncoming traffic, just watch this\nStretched, tinted, black sedan my ass\nSee how mad you act when I drop you off at Saks Fifth Ave\nIn a fucking taxi cab to go shopping\nAffable guy next door is laughable\nMy next whore's gonna have mechanical arms\nThat'll jack me off with a lotion dispenser with a motion sensor\nNo emotion hence I guess this sick prick dies hard\nI got a Magic Johnson\nIt's like a Magic Wand allows me to not let a blonde arouse me\nIf Ronda Rousey was on the couch with the condoms out\nHolding a thousand Magnums at once to pounce me\nI'll laugh in response to how she dances and flaunts it around me\nHer flat little badonkadonk is bouncing around\nAnd all I see is Paulie Malign now, she's slaughterhouse in a blouse\nAnd Madonna with mud on her, God dammit I am misogynist\nI slap Linda Ronstadt with a lobster, throw her off a balcony\nJust so happens she's fond of algae\nCause now she's faceplants on the concrete\nComplete lack of responsibility\nHalf you assholes ain't strong enough to pick up a spirit\nShit, you fags couldn't shoplift at a thrift shop\nBut I let the track lift 'em up, boost the energy\nKlepto, I'm back to rip shop up, but my thing is this now\nFive-finger discount\nBeen rapping so long I've been killing this shit, it's easy\nKidnapping your mom cause I'm still in this bitch, thievery\nRansom for JonBen\u00e9t Ramsey, Chandra Levy, and Gary Condit\n(\"Em\") Paul was scared that if I went back to the blonde\nI might relapse, get on some bullshit\nPerhaps I'll launch some cracker taunts at Action Bronson\nMacklemore, Mac Miller and Asher Roth\nAnd have some back and forths\nAnd record a wack response to Kendrick Lamar's \"Control\" verse\nAnd perform \"Fack\" in concert\n\nYo, I put that shit on a greatest hits album\nNow that was awesome\nIt takes some massive balls to do some shit like that\nSometimes I have to ponder why people are like\n(I'll stick around)\nAnd put up with my crap so long for\nWhat's the attraction, mama?\nIs it the fact that I'm a walking, talking, actual quadruple entendre\nOr the pointy nose that's pointing at you, mama?\nWho knows at this point, it's always poking so meh\nStill get along with this voice cause that's the monster\nSo do-si-do with a sociopath, everyone who knows me knows that\nWhat they don't know is the fact Rihanna calls me Pinocchio, meh\nShe loves the way I lie\nSits on my face and waits for my nose to grow\nPathological liar, oh, why am I such an asshole\nThat my disguise is pants, but they on fire\nSo am I-a, wooh, Cappadonna, cut the track off (fart sound)\nSabotage Christmas, crap in your stocking\nI'm wrapping up all the presents\nIn fucking camouflage so you can't even find 'em\nJack Santa Claus, snap Rudolph's antlers off\nWrap his schnoz in gauze bandage and blind him\nBlowing the head gasket at Bed, Bath and Beyond\nPut the basket back while the bath salt packets are gone, I\nKnow you really tired of me sampling Billy Squier\nBut classic rock acid rap is the genre\nGot Slash on guitar, splashing Bizarre, Thrasher and Aerosmith\nAnd I'm a spectacular archer, feed count Dracula Chocula\nGodzilla, half dragon and Bob Dylan\nBandwagoners, I'm kicking the damn stragglers off and I'm strangling 'em\nSmack Kim Basinger on a ass...."},
{"year": null, "title": "Hailie's Revenge", "album": null, "lyrics": "Get on yo knees nigga, get on yo knees and pray\n\n\n\n\nEm, you claim ya mother's a crackhead and kim is a known slut so what's Hailie gon' be when she grows up?\n\n\n AH-HA! Yeah! C'mon!\nG-g-g-g G-Unit! Hailie\n What?\n Come here baby, bring daddy his Oscar\n Okay\n We're gonna shove it up Ja Rule's ass!\n\n\n\n\nI'm about to get rid of some hoes, it's simple\nI'm quick to murder ink with lead and talkin' bout a pencil\nLookit what the fuck you done got into\nI see you found yo niche, you just a bitch wit a menstrol\nClaimin' you a murderer and you spelled it wrong\nYou put 'e' before the 'd' cuz that's all you on\nYou on Pac's dick, you a regular guy\nIf Pac was still alive you would never get by\nAll you do is cry, bitch keep it real\nLife is more than imitating niggaz and eatin' pills\nAnd kind of muthafucka ruins three deals\nThat another nigga got you, they didn't see skills\nAnd I ain't playin', you a brother gettin' cheated\nAnd Ja Rule be prayin' on his cover cuz he need it\nAnd all you niggaz hatin', shut you mouths\nIt's just that real niggaz ain't buyin' that shit y'all put out\n\nDo-ra-mi, but we don't sing muhfuckas\nSo Murder Inc. do ya thing muhfuckas\nYou've unleashed on a team who expects nothin' less\nThan R&B comin' from that regime\nRegime it's a little extreme\nNeck and necks with soldiers, muhfuckin' Marines\nJa sold his soul to sing\nWeave eye-witness team on the tv screen, chase the greed\nNow that you've embraced the green\nDon't fuck with the triple beams\nYou's a muthafuckin actor slash Pac impersonatin' rapper\nSlash Billie Holliday how it happen?\nArtist for Repetuar saw him in action\nPac assassination Def Jam grabbed him\nTold him reinact him, you go platinum\nThey seen it for sure, I know that Afina Shakur\nDon't enjoy Jeffery Atkins reinactin' her boy\nSo I'm click-clackin' this toy\nMash and destroy, Shady\nAftermath and Detroit muthafuckas\n\n\n\nDo-ra-me, fa-so-la-ti-da\nDon't blame me cuz you lost your boss's spot\nMama-say-mama-sa-ma-macosa\nJa quit playin' knock it off you're not 2Pac\nDon't make me, too hot and you're not\nShootin' at me, with the only shot you got\nJa quit playin' knock it off you're not 2Pac\nYou'll get popped poppin' all that shit you pop\n\n\n\nNow we can get past the mean mugs and get to the slugs\nTo the greivance and the cryin' and the intimate hugs\nWe don't take you serious nigga you shook you half of a half-way crook, get off X dick, go sing a hook nigga\nAnd you can't replace the late greal one\nAnd when you gone you only gon' be the late fake one\nNigga please, stick to the script\nbefore the guns stick to the clip, and Benzino you ain't shit but a bitch\nFuckin' old ass ignorant innocent lookin' senior citizen\nBuilt up, slap you like Grimace, all sensitive\nWait a minute, hold on\nIs it me or do he look like a banana with braids and clothes on?\nA bitch made man, now how you gonna connect with them short ass arms like a tyrannasaurus rex?\nYou niggaz can scream holler and curse\nGo ahead and respond and pull that pen and pad up outta ya purse\n\nSlim did it simple to get at the wankstas\nHe told me to let loose and spit at the gangstas\nWhat up Gotti and this little war you pushed on\nPut you ear to the ground for stucky and bush stones\nWhat's wrong? Didn't think we strong with real niggaz?\nRoll like a boss in the streets they still feel us\nIt's real business you ain't caught the concept\nYou talkin' nonsense to walk and find press\nContact was blown by Munsetta in The Source\nThreaten at the boss you gon' see me on ya porch\nNow Irv got the nerve to try to serve on us\nBut Detroit niggaz ?? and ain't scurred to bust\n\nWord to my nigga Bugs, punks like you get beat up\nStomped unconcious and smacked with the heater\nThis rap cookie monster gets jabbed in the tonsils with dicks so much that he should be fixed with a vagina\nWho's behind ya? Cadillic Pac or that transvestite who dress like a Lil Kim fox, her chest like a little windbox\npress tight on the trigger of this glock\nSwallow that little shit you got left to help you eat\nYou knock Pac's songs without love to help you sleep\nYou got shot in your video tryin mock Pac\nYou 'Mockaveli', get your own identity\n\n\n\nYeah!\nDon't you never say my little girl's name in a song again!\nFuckin' punk pussy little bitch!\nI'll fuck you up boy!\nNever! Never in your muthafuckin life!\nI'll choke the shit outchu little muthafuckin bitch!\nHailie can whip your muthafuckin ass!\n\n\nThat's right muthafuckas\nShady records, whatchu know about it?\nFuck Benzino, fuck Ja Rule\nNigga, this Obie Triceright here talkin to you muthafuckas\nJa Rule punk ass... Yea!\nFuckin Soul For Real ass...\nNigga that's Soul For Real,\nThat the nigga from Soul For Real!\nCandy Rain ass nigga...\nHe got a deal now he rappin'\nYou'ont know what's... faggot ass muhfuckas\nGet money to all my real niggas, man\nObie Trice, D12, G Unit, 50 Cent...\nHailie Jade!!!\n\n\n\nDaddy is Ja Rule taller than me?\n\nNo honey, you guys are the same size..."}
]