Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Evil Twin, artist - Eminem. Album song The Marshall Mathers LP2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Aftermath
Song language: English
Evil Twin |
Yeah, trying to figure out the difference |
But I think, I think the lines are starting to get blurry |
I’m in a strange place |
I feel like Ma$e when he gave up the game for his faith |
I feel like I’m caged in these chains and restraints |
Grimming every stranger in the place while I gaze into space |
'Cause I’m mentally rearranging his face |
I need a change of pace 'cause the pace I’m working at is dangerous |
There’s nowhere to dump this anger and thanks to this angst |
I done quit chicken heads in cold turkey and started slowly roasting 'em |
'Cause that’s where most of my anger is based |
Fuck your feelings, I feel like I play for the Saints |
I just wanna hurt you, aim for the skanks |
Then aim for all these fake Kanye’s, Jay’s, Wayne’s and the Drake’s |
I’m frustrated 'cause ain’t no more N’Sync, now I’m all out of whack |
I’m all out of Backstreet Boys to call out and attack |
I’m going all out in this rap shit and whatever the fallout is |
I’m strapped for battle sucka-duck, crawl out the back, it’s a bar fight |
Prepare your arsenal and beware of bar stools flying through the air |
And bottles breaking, mirrors also |
And I ain’t stopping 'til the swear jar’s full |
You done called every woman a slut, but you’re forgetting Sarah, |
Marshall (Palin) |
Oh my bad, slut |
And next time I show up to court I’ll be naked and just wear a lawsuit |
Judge be like «That's sharp, how much did that motherfucker cost you? |
Smart ass, you’re lucky I don’t tear it off you |
And jump your bones, you sexy motherfucker |
You’re so fucking gravy, Marshall, I should start calling you „au jus“ |
'Cause all’s you do is spit them lyrics out the wazoo. |
Evil twin, take this beat now, it’s all you.» |
I believe people can change, but only for the worse |
I could’ve changed the world if it wasn’t for this verse |
So satanic K-Mart chains panic |
'Cause they can’t even spin back the curse words |
'Cause they’re worse when they’re reversed, motherfucker |
(rape your mother, kill your parents) |
Shit, motherfucker, and these kids are like parrots |
They run around the house just like terrorists |
Screaming «fuck, shit, fuck» |
Adult with a childish-like arrogance |
Wild ever since the day I came out I was like «merits, fuck that» |
I’d rather be loud and I like swearing |
From the first album even the gals were like «tight lyrics, dreamy eyes» |
But my fucking mouth was nightmarish |
And from the start of it you felt like you were a part of this |
And the opposition felt the opposite |
Sometimes I listen and revisit them old albums |
Often as I can and skim through all them bitches |
To make sure I keep up with my competition |
(ha ha) Hogger of beats, hoarder of rhymes |
Borderline genius who’s bored of his lines |
And that sort of defines where I’m at and the way I feel now |
Feel like I might just strike first and ignore the replies |
There’s darkness closing in (evil twin) |
There it goes again (my evil twin), |
It controls my pen (my evil twin), |
But that ain’t me, it’s my evil twin |
(then I step out and see my evil twin he gives me an evil grin) |
But he’s just a friend (evil twin), |
Who pops up now and again (again) |
So don’t blame me (evil twin) |
Blame him, it’s my evil twin |
(then I step out and see my evil twin he gives me an evil grin) |
Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend |
You have slept for quite some time |
So who’s left? |
Lady Gaga? |
Mess with the Bieber? |
Nah, F with Christina, I ain’t fucking with either Jessica neither |
Simpson or Alba, my albums just sicker than strep with the fever |
Get the Cloriseptic, Excedrin, Aleve or Extra Strength Tylenol 3's |
Feel like I’m burning to death, but I’m freezin' |
Bed-ridden and destined never to leave the |
Bedroom ever again like the legend of Heath-uh- Ledger |
My suicide notes, barely legible read the |
Bottom, it’s signed by The Joker |
Lorena said I never can leave her |
She’d sever my wiener I ever deceive her |
Fuck that shit, bitch |
Give up my dick for pussy, I’d be Jerry Mathers |
I ever left it to Beaver |
Get them titties cut off tryna mess with a cleaver |
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 |
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' |
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 |
Screaming, «Fuck the police!"like cop porn |
Flipped rap on its ear like I dropped corn |
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 |
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 |