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