| Yeah, trying to figure out the difference
|
| But I think, I think the lines are starting to get blurry
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| I’m in a strange place
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| I feel like Ma$e when he gave up the game for his faith
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| I feel like I’m caged in these chains and restraints
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| Grimming every stranger in the place while I gaze into space
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| 'Cause I’m mentally rearranging his face
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| I need a change of pace 'cause the pace I’m working at is dangerous
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| There’s nowhere to dump this anger and thanks to this angst
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| I done quit chicken heads in cold turkey and started slowly roasting 'em
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| 'Cause that’s where most of my anger is based
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| Fuck your feelings, I feel like I play for the Saints
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| I just wanna hurt you, aim for the skanks
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| Then aim for all these fake Kanye’s, Jay’s, Wayne’s and the Drake’s
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| I’m frustrated 'cause ain’t no more N’Sync, now I’m all out of whack
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| I’m all out of Backstreet Boys to call out and attack
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| I’m going all out in this rap shit and whatever the fallout is
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| I’m strapped for battle sucka-duck, crawl out the back, it’s a bar fight
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| Prepare your arsenal and beware of bar stools flying through the air
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| And bottles breaking, mirrors also
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| And I ain’t stopping 'til the swear jar’s full
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| You done called every woman a slut, but you’re forgetting Sarah,
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| Marshall (Palin)
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| Oh my bad, slut
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| And next time I show up to court I’ll be naked and just wear a lawsuit
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| Judge be like «That's sharp, how much did that motherfucker cost you?
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| Smart ass, you’re lucky I don’t tear it off you
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| And jump your bones, you sexy motherfucker
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| You’re so fucking gravy, Marshall, I should start calling you „au jus“
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| 'Cause all’s you do is spit them lyrics out the wazoo.
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| Evil twin, take this beat now, it’s all you.»
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| I believe people can change, but only for the worse
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| I could’ve changed the world if it wasn’t for this verse
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| So satanic K-Mart chains panic
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| 'Cause they can’t even spin back the curse words
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| 'Cause they’re worse when they’re reversed, motherfucker
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| (rape your mother, kill your parents)
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| Shit, motherfucker, and these kids are like parrots
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| They run around the house just like terrorists
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| Screaming «fuck, shit, fuck»
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| Adult with a childish-like arrogance
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| Wild ever since the day I came out I was like «merits, fuck that»
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| I’d rather be loud and I like swearing
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| From the first album even the gals were like «tight lyrics, dreamy eyes»
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| But my fucking mouth was nightmarish
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| And from the start of it you felt like you were a part of this
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| And the opposition felt the opposite
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| Sometimes I listen and revisit them old albums
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| Often as I can and skim through all them bitches
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| To make sure I keep up with my competition
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| (ha ha) Hogger of beats, hoarder of rhymes
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| Borderline genius who’s bored of his lines
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| And that sort of defines where I’m at and the way I feel now
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| Feel like I might just strike first and ignore the replies
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| There’s darkness closing in (evil twin)
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| There it goes again (my evil twin),
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| It controls my pen (my evil twin),
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| But that ain’t me, it’s my evil twin
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| (then I step out and see my evil twin he gives me an evil grin)
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| But he’s just a friend (evil twin),
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| Who pops up now and again (again)
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| So don’t blame me (evil twin)
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| Blame him, it’s my evil twin
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| (then I step out and see my evil twin he gives me an evil grin)
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| Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend
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| You have slept for quite some time
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| So who’s left? |
| Lady Gaga? |
| Mess with the Bieber?
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| Nah, F with Christina, I ain’t fucking with either Jessica neither
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| Simpson or Alba, my albums just sicker than strep with the fever
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| Get the Cloriseptic, Excedrin, Aleve or Extra Strength Tylenol 3's
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| Feel like I’m burning to death, but I’m freezin'
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| Bed-ridden and destined never to leave the
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| Bedroom ever again like the legend of Heath-uh- Ledger
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| My suicide notes, barely legible read the
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| Bottom, it’s signed by The Joker
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| Lorena said I never can leave her
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| She’d sever my wiener I ever deceive her
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| Fuck that shit, bitch
|
| Give up my dick for pussy, I’d be Jerry Mathers
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| I ever left it to Beaver
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| Get them titties cut off tryna mess with a cleaver
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| Golly-wally, I vent, heat register, Jesus
|
| Ever since 1−9-9−4-6 Dresden it was definitely my destiny |
| When on the steps I met DeShaun at Osborn
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| I’d never make it to sophomore
|
| I just wanted to skip school and rap, used to mop floors
|
| Flip burgers and wash dishes while I wrote rhymes tryna get props for 'em
|
| 'Cause I took book-smarts and swapped for 'em
|
| They were sleeping, I made 'em stop snorin'
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| Made 'em break out the popcorn
|
| Now I’ve been hip-hop in its tip-top form
|
| Since N.W.A. |
| was blaring through my car windows leaning on the horn
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| Screaming, «Fuck the police!"like cop porn
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| Flipped rap on its ear like I dropped corn
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| Fuck top 5, bitch, I’m top 4
|
| And that includes Biggie and Pac, whore
|
| And I got an evil twin, so who the fuck do you think that 3rd and that 4th
|
| spot’s for?
|
| And crazy as I am I’m much tamer than him
|
| And I’m nuts, then again who the fuck wants a plain Eminem?
|
| But no one’s insaner than Slim, look at that evil grin (evil twin)
|
| Please come in, what was your name again?
|
| Hi, faggot
|
| Look who’s back with a crab up his ass like a lobster crawled up there
|
| Two rabbits, a koala bear and a ball of hair
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| And you’re all aware I don’t got it all upstairs
|
| Guess that’s why I’m an addict and it’s so small up there
|
| Peace to Whitney, geez, just hit me
|
| That I should call the Looney Police to come get me
|
| 'Cause I’m so sick of being the truth I wish someone’d finally admit me
|
| To a mental hospital with Britney
|
| Oh, LMFAO, no way, ho
|
| Jose Baez couldn’t beat this rap, OJ no
|
| Hooray, I’m off the hook like Casey Anthony
|
| Hey ho, hey ho
|
| I sound like I’m tryna sing the fucking chorus to «Hip Hop Hooray»?
|
| No, I’m hollering, you got bottom end like an 8−0-8
|
| And I base whether we’re fucking off that instead of your face, so
|
| Let your low-end raise, yo
|
| Tango, what you think, ho?
|
| Slow dancing in the bowling
|
| You tryna hold hands with your homie?
|
| What? |
| You think I’m looking for romance 'cause I’m lonely?
|
| Change that tune, you ain’t got a remote chance to control me
|
| Hoe, I’m only vulnerable when I got a boner
|
| Superman tried to fuck me over, it won’t hurt
|
| Don’t try to fix me, I’m broke so I don’t work
|
| So are you, but you’re broke 'cause you don’t work
|
| But all bullshit aside I hit a stride
|
| Still Shady inside, hair every bit as dyed
|
| As it used to be when I first introduced y’all to my skittish side
|
| And blamed it on him when they tried to criticize
|
| 'Cause we are the same, bitch |