Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Chloraseptic, artist - Eminem.
Date of issue: 09.01.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Chloraseptic |
(2 Chainz!) |
Yeah, yeah |
Take 'em to church, I'm talkin' the tabernacle |
It's the return of the body snatcher |
Walk in the spot, make my woman smack ya (Whoo!) |
In a fruit fight, I aim at your Adam's Apple |
Pull up in the candy car eatin' a candy bar |
And my girl eatin' a candy apple |
Yuh, I line their ass up, I aim at their Cruiser |
All of these stones on my neck, uh |
They must have looked at Medusa |
Pockets Rasputia of course, I drove some rims to court |
I fucked some twins before, I had a Benz before |
This is the sin report |
This is the murder murder, pass the burner, Em |
Your money shorter than an acronym |
Big body when I'm backin' in |
Ladi-dadi, got a bunch of bodies, nigga |
Fakin', nigga, human traffickin' (woo) |
I'm on the Act again, this ain't a accident |
King like Ak-ron |
I run the trap again, you on the treadmill (treadmill) |
Never, Neverland shit came with a Ferris wheel (goddamn) |
Ferris day off, baby, AR in the same car |
Most of y'all my sons, aww, look at little JR |
F-12 same color Kate Moss, ugh, I'm talkin' wrist in the pot |
I'm talkin' this and you not, I'm talkin' bricks and you not |
I'm talkin' straight up and down, nigga, like 6 o'clock |
This is the equinox, this what the people want |
Somebody at the door, I heard the speaker knock, uh |
I'm at your throat like Chloraseptic, 'septic |
And you got strep, I'm too complex with, 'plex with |
This shit I wrote is on some next shit, next shit |
I'm at your throat, I'm feelin' reckless, reckless, yeah |
Do me a favor, don't do me no favors |
These bitches got flavors |
They all wanna smoke but ain't doin' no labor |
But they shoppin' at Raleys, they stingin' like tasers |
Act Hollywood like they play for the Lakers |
They fly on the latest |
Crocs, alligators, say hi to my haters |
Pardon my neighbor, we eatin' |
That chicken, lobster, potatoes |
You must be sniffin' that yayo |
If you don't think I'm that nigga |
Swagger on 10 since a day old |
It's a-okay though, whippin' up whip like it's mayo |
Every track is a K.O., fuck nigga, K.O |
Go off your head like I'm Ayo |
Out of this world, talkin' NATO |
It's 'cos of jail, don't be an A-hole |
'Cause I got shooters that shoot when I say so, like Lord |
Wanna be in my shoes, you ain't paid no dues |
Real nigga, you ain't break no rules |
High school, niggas ate your food |
Might dumb it down a little, but I ain't no fool |
Niggas hate every day, B (yeah) |
Shit is O.C. |
lately (yeah) |
Gotta break 'em off with these Dre beats (yeah) |
Or I might go crazy (yeah) |
These niggas too goddamn lazy |
Don't ever, ever, ever try to play me |
Lil' shawty now comin' from BK |
But I'm tryna come up like JAY-Z |
Nothin' but love from my heart |
I feel entitled to titles |
Fuck it, man, I want the title |
My mission is |
I'm at your throat like Chloraseptic, 'septic |
And you got strep, I'm too complex with, 'plex with |
This shit I wrote is on some next shit, next shit |
I'm at your throat, I'm feelin' reckless, reckless, yeah |
Bin Laden with a pen, body it again |
I begin slaughterin' your men, prolly shoulda been |
Ali or the Svengali embodiment of sin |
Like a Saudi in the Taliban plotting an event |
In the lobby of the Intercontinental |
With an obvious intent |
And I will not even relent up on a little |
Like Osama with a bomb under the bin |
And down the middle of the Pentagon |
And hit a kindergartener with a rental, stop! |
Back and forth, back and forth |
Like Jack Kevorkian's ass to court |
Rap mature, why can't you be like Macklemore? |
Huh? |
Why you always gotta smack a whore? |
It's likely the psychiatric ward's a last resort |
Something's gotta give, that's for sure |
Yet you keep comin' back for more |
Not as raw as I was, "'Walk on Water' sucks" |
Bitch, suck my dick |
Y'all saw the tracklist and had a fit 'fore you heard it |
So you formed your verdict |
While you sat with your arms crossed |
Did your little reaction videos and talked over songs (Chill!) |
Nah, dog, y'all sayin' I lost it, your fuckin' marbles are gone |
But nowadays, every flow, every cadence sounds the same |
Brain's a powder keg, I draw inspiration outta hate |
Real pain in the paper, I don't trace |
But if I look strange and out of place |
It's 'cause I'm an alien, that's why I write 'til the page is outta space, yeah |
From 7 Mile in Novara to "How can I be down?" |
All of us tryna pile in the car (yeah!), we shot for the stars, yeah |
'Cause we only got so much time in this world (yeah!) |
So rewind it to your high school dance to the night before |
If you think you're promised tomorrow (yeah!) |
Now I'm 'bout to fool again |
This tune is sick, it's luminous, the moon is lit |
A freakin' lunatic, a human computer chip |
And I'm soon to stick a broom in the uterus of your Hooters chick |
If I was you I wouldn't do nothin' stupid due to the mood I'm in |
I'm losin' it, you get chewed like a Junior Mint |
Show me who to rip, it's time for you to get screwed |
Empty the lubricant and put super glue in it |
How many fuckin' rappers did I go through? |
Dispel doubt but you won't admit I smoked |
And you was spellbound, hellbound in my snowsuit |
But am I s'posed to sound like everything else out? |
'Cause I don't get compared to it, only myself now |
And I can see the fair-weather fans and sales down |
But the only way I care is if I let myself down |
But what the fuck have I awoke to? |
Time to eat the vocals and shit out Pro Tools |
I know you still want me to ill out, don't you? |
Hopin' the old Slim's gonna spill out, open fire |
On your whole camp with this spit I wrote you |
So chill out, no, you hoes couldn't roast me with the shit I wrote you |
Then I took a stand, went at Tan-Face |
And practically cut my mothafuckin' fan base in half and still outsold you |
You just called my shit trash |
Thank God, I rap better when the odds are stacked |
"Revival's wack, I don't like the 'Zombie' track |
Or when he's talkin' that garbage psychotic crap |
Where's your content at? |
What's with all the conscious rap? |
P!nk, Beyoncé this and Kehlani that" (yeah) |
I just added to the fuel in my rocket pack |
'Til I'm ready to respond, then I'ma launch it at 'em |
Idiotic from the fuckin' embryonic sac |
To the bodybag, I'll be back |
And when I am, I'll be at your fuckin' throat like— |
Like Chloraseptic |