Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song When The Music Stops , by - Eminem. Release date: 31.12.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
When The Music Stops |
| Bizzare: |
| Echo |
| Music, reality, sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference |
| But we as entertainers have a responsibility to these kids |
| Psyche! |
| Eminem: |
| If I were to die murdered in cold blood tomorrow |
| Would you feel sorrow or show love |
| Or would it matter |
| Can never be the lead-off batter of things |
| Shit for me to feed off |
| I’m see-saw battlin |
| But theres way too much at stake for me to be fake |
| There’s too much on my plate |
| And I came way too far in this game to turn and walk away |
| And not say what I got to say |
| What the fuck you take me for? |
| a joke? |
| you smokin crack? |
| Before I do that, I beg Mariah to take me back |
| I get up 'for i get down, run myself in the ground, 'for I put some wack shit |
| out |
| I’m tryin-a smack this one out the park, five-thousand mark |
| Ya’ll steady tryin to drown the shark |
| Ain’t gonna do nothin but piss me off |
| Lid to the can of whoop ass, just twist me off |
| See me leap out, pull the piece out, f*ck shootin i’m just trying to knock his |
| teeth out |
| Fuck with me now, bitch, let’s see you freestyle |
| Talk is cheap, motherfucker if you’re really feeling froggish, leap |
| Yo slim, you gonna let him get away with that? |
| He tried to play you, you can’t let him skate with that |
| Man I hate this crap, this ain’t rap |
| This is crazy the way we act |
| When we confuse hip-hop with real life when the music stops |
| Swift: |
| There ain’t no getting rid of McVeigh |
| If so you woulda tried |
| The only way I’m leavin this bitch is suicide |
| I have died clinically, arrived back at my enemy’s crib with hennesy |
| Got drunk then I finished he |
| I’m every nigga’s favorite arch-enemy |
| Physically fitted to be the most dangerous nigga with beef |
| I spark willingly with a dillinger in the dark dilligently |
| I’m not what you think |
| I appear to be f*cked up |
| Mentally endangered |
| I can’t stay away from a razor |
| I just want my face in a paper |
| I wish a nigger had a grenade to squeeze tight to awake neighbors for acres |
| I murder you |
| Danger had me turned into a mad man, son of sam, bi*tch, I’m surgical |
| I’l allergic to dyin, you think not? |
| you got balls? |
| We can see how large |
| When the music stops |
| Kon Artist: |
| I was happy having a deal at first |
| Thought money would make me happy but |
| It only made my pain worst |
| It hurts when u see ur friends turn their back on u dawg |
| When u ain’t got nothing left but ur word and ur balls |
| N ur stress full of cause |
| Of ur new friends they beggin with their hands out |
| Checking for ur record when its selling |
| When it aint, that’s the end, no laughs |
| No friends no girl |
| Just the gin u drink till u car spin u then |
| Screech Damn! |
| Crash |
| U slam into the wall and u fall |
| Out the car, trying to crawl with one arm |
| About to lose it all in a pool of alcohol |
| If my funeral’s tomorrow, wonder if they would |
| Even call when the music stops |
| Kuniva: |
| Let’s see how many of your men loyal |
| When i pull up looking for you |
| With a pistol sipping on a can of pennzoil |
| I’m revved up, who said what would lead bust ur head would just explode |
| With red stuff i’m hand cuffed tossed in the paddy wagon |
| Braggin about how u shot it like a coward, bullets devour you showered you |
| Niggars, if i was u niggas, i’ll run while given the chance |
| Understand i can enchance the spirit of man |
| Death itself, it can’t hurt me, just the thought of dying alone that really |
| Hurts me, u ain’t worthy to speak thoughts of cheap talk |
| Be smart and stop trying to walk how g’s walk before we spark |
| Hug the floor while we plan to the war with ur life, f*ck the tour and the mic |
| I’ll rather fuck a whore with a knife, deliver that shit the coroner’s like |
| You high hype poppin' sh*t in broad day light ni*ga ur a gonna at night |
| When The Music Stops |
| Proof: |
| Instigators, pits in cages |
| Let loose and bit the neighbours |
| wrist to razors |
| Ya’ll don’t want war, you want talk |
| In the dark my dogs all bark like woof |
| Proof ni*ga I’m a wolf, get your whole roof |
| Caved in like reindeer hoofs |
| Stomped the roof shake the floor tiles loose |
| The more ya’ll breach, the more I moves |
| This hell street, this is hardcore blues |
| Put a gun to rap checking all our jewels |
| Or make the news betcha all ya’ll move |
| When the uzi pop, you better drop when the music stop |
| Bizzare: |
| Music’s changed my life in so many ways |
| Brains confused and f*cked since the 5th grade |
| LL told me to rock the bells |
| NWA said f*ck the police |
| Now i’m in jail |
| 93 was strictly RNB |
| Fucked up hair cut |
| Listen to Jodeci |
| Michael Jackson, who go tell me i’m Mike |
| Ass cheeks painted white |
| F*cking Presilla at night |
| Flying down sunset smoking crack |
| Transvestite in the front |
| Eddi Murphy in the back |
| MOP had me grindy and griddy |
| Marilyn Manson, i dyed my hair blue |
| And grew some titties |
| Ludacris told me to throw them bowls |
| Now i’m in the hospital |
| Broken nose and a fractured elbow |
| Voices in my head, i’m going in shock |
| I’m reaching for the glock but the music stops |
| Bang |