Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Criminal, artist - Eminem. Album song Curtain Call: The Hits, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Aftermath Entertainment, Interscope
Song language: English
Criminal |
A lot of people ask me stupid f*ckin questions |
A lot of people think that what I say on records |
Or what I talk about on a record, that I actually do in real life |
Or that I believe in it |
Or if I say that, I wanna kill somebody, that |
I’m actually gonna do it |
Or that I believe in it |
Well, sh*t if you believe that |
Then I’ll kill you |
You know why? |
Cuz I’m a |
CRIMINAL |
CRIMINAL |
You god damn right |
I’m a CRIMINAL |
Yeah, I’m a CRIMINAL |
My words are like a dagger with a jagged edge |
That’ll stab you in the head |
whether you’re a fag or lez |
Or the homosex, hermaph or a trans-a-vest |
Pants or dress — hate fags? |
The answer’s «yes» |
Homophobic? |
Nah, you’re just heterophobic |
Starin at my jeans, watchin my genitals bulgin (Ooh!) |
That’s my motherfuckin balls, you’d better let go of em |
They belong in my scrotum, you’ll never get hold of em |
Hey, it’s me, Versace |
Whoops, somebody shot me! |
And I was just checkin the mail |
Get it? |
Checkin the 'male'? |
How many records you expectin to sell |
after your second LP sends you directly to jail? |
C’mon!- Relax guy, I like gay men |
Right, Ken? |
Give me an amen (AAA-men!) |
Please Lord, this boy needs Jesus |
Heal this child, help us destroy these demons |
Oh, and please send me a brand new car |
And a prostitute while my wife’s sick in the hospital |
Preacher preacher, fifth grade teacher |
You can’t reach me, my mom can’t neither |
You can’t teach me a goddamn thing cause |
I watch TV, and Comcast cable |
and you ain’t able to stop these thoughts |
You can’t stop me from toppin these charts |
And you can’t stop me from droppin each March |
with a brand new cd for these fuckin retards |
Duhhh, and to think, it’s just little ol' me |
Mr. «Don't Give A F*ck,» still won’t leave |
I’m a CRIMINAL |
Cuz every time I write a rhyme, these people think it’s a crime |
To tell em what’s on my mind — I guess I’m a CRIMINAL |
But I don’t gotta say a word, I just flip em the bird |
And keep goin, I don’t take shit from no one |
My mother did drugs — tar, liquor, cigarettes, and speed |
The baby came out — disfigured, ligaments indeed |
It was a seed who would grow up just as crazy as she |
Don’t dare make fun of that baby cause that baby was me |
I’m a CRIMINAL — an animal caged who turned crazed |
But how the fuck you sposed to grow up when you weren’t raised? |
So as I got older and I got a lot taller |
My d*ck shrunk smaller, but my balls got larger |
I drink malt liquor to fuck you up quicker |
than you’d wanna fuck me up for sayin the word nig*a |
My morals went thhbbpp when the president got oral |
Sex in his Oval Office on top of his desk |
Off of his own employee |
Now don’t ignore me, you won’t avoid me |
You can’t miss me, I’m white, blonde-haired |
And my nose is pointy |
I’m the bad guy who makes fun of people that die |
In plane crashes and laughs |
As long as it ain’t happened to him |
Slim Shady, I’m as crazy as Eminem and Kim combined |
the maniac’s in |
Replacin the doctor cause Dre couldn’t make it today |
He’s a little under the weather, so I’m takin his place |
(Mm-mm-mmm!) Oh, that’s Dre with an AK to his face |
Don’t make me kill him too and spray his brains all over the place |
I told you Dre, you should’ve kept that thang put away |
I guess that’ll teach you not to let me play with it, eh? |
I’m a CRIMINAL |
Aight look (uh huh) just go up in that motherfucker |
Get the motherf*ckin money and get the f*ck up outta there |
Aight |
I’ll be right here waitin on you |
Aight |
Yo Em |
What?! |
Don’t kill nobody this time |
Awwright god damn, f*ck |
(whistling) how you doin'? |
HI, how can I help you? |
Yeah I need to make a withdrawl |
Okay |
Put the f*ckin money in the bag b*tch |
and I won’t kill you! |
What? |
Oh my god, don’t kill me |
I’m not gonna kill you b*tch, quit lookin around |
Don’t kill me, please don’t kill me |
I said I’m not gonna fuckin kill you |
Hurry the f*ck up! |
Thank you! |
Windows tinted on my ride when I drive in it |
So when I rob a bank, run out and just dive in it |
So I’ll be disguised in it |
And if anybody identifies the guy in it |
I’ll hide for five minutes |
Come back, shoot the eyewitness |
Fire at the private eye hired to pry in my business |
Die, b*tches, bastards, brats, pets |
This puppy’s lucky I didn’t blast his as* yet |
If I ever gave a f*ck, I’d shave my nuts |
Tuck my d*ck inbetween my legs and cluck |
You motherf*ckin chickens ain’t brave enough |
to say the stuff I say, so just tape it shut |
Shit, half the shit I say, I just make it up |
To make you mad so kiss my white naked as* |
And if it’s not a rapper that I make it as |
I’ma be a f*ckin rapist in a Jason mask |
I’m a CRIMINAL |
Cuz every time I write a rhyme, these people think it’s a crime |
To tell em what’s on my mind — I guess I’m a CRIMINAL |
But I don’t gotta say a word, I just flip em the bird |
And keep goin, I don’t take shit from no one |
I’m a CRIMINAL |
Cuz every time I write a rhyme, these people think it’s a crime |
To tell em what’s on my mind — I guess I’m a CRIMINAL |
But I don’t gotta say a word, I just flip em the bird |
And keep goin, I don’t take shit from no one |