Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Remember Me?, artist - Eminem. Date of issue: 19.08.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Remember Me? |
| For this one it’s the X, you retarded? |
| Cause I grab the mic and get DOWN, like Syndrome |
| Hide and roam into the masses, without boundaries |
| Which qualifies me for the term «universal» |
| Without no rehearsal, I leak words that’s controversial |
| Like I’m not, the one you wanna contest, see |
| Cause I’ll hit yo' a*s like the train did that b*tch |
| That got «Banned From TV» — heavyweight hitter |
| Hit you watch your whole head split up |
| Loco-is-the-motion, we comin through |
| Hollow tips is the lead, the .45 threw |
| Remember me? |
| («Throw ya gunz in the air!») |
| Remember me? |
| («Slam! Slam!») |
| Remember me? |
| («Nigga 'Bacdafucup'») |
| Remember me? |
| («Chka-chka-Onyx!») |
| Niggaz that take no for an answer, get told no |
| Yeah I been told no but it was more like, «No, no, no!» |
| Life a b*tch that’ll f*ck you if you let her |
| Better come better than better to be a competitor |
| This vet is ahead of |
| The shit is all redder, you deader and deader |
| A medic instead-a the cheddars and credda |
| Settle vendetta one metal beretta from ghetto to ghetto |
| Evidence? |
| NOPE! |
| Never leave a shred-of |
| I got the soul of every rapper in me, love me or hate me |
| My moms got raped by the industry and made me |
| I’m the illest nigga ever, I told you |
| I get more pus*y than them dyke b*tches Total |
| Want beef, nigga? |
| PBBT! |
| You better dead that sh*t |
| My name should be «Can't-Believe-That-Ni*ga-Said-That-Shit» |
| Probably sayin, «He ain’t a killer», but I’m killin myself |
| Smoke death, f*ck b*tches raw, on the kitchen floor |
| So think what I’ma do to you, have done to you |
| Got nig*gaz in my hood who’d do that sh*t for a blunt or two |
| What you wanna do, cocksuckers? |
| We glock busters |
| 'Til the cops cuff us, we’ll start ruckus and drop blockbusters |
| 'Round the clock hustlers, you cannot touch us |
| I’m gettin wires niggaz wantin me dead, wantin my head |
| You think it could be somethin I said? |
| Remember me? |
| («I just don’t give a fuck!») |
| Remember me? |
| («Yeah, f*ck you too!») |
| Remember me? |
| («I'm low down and I’m shifty!») |
| Remember me? |
| («I'm Shady!») |
| When I go out, I’ma go out shootin |
| I don’t mean when I die, I mean when I go out to the club, stupid |
| I’m tryin to clear up my f*ckin' image |
| so I promised the f*ckin critics |
| I wouldn’t say «f*ckin» for six minutes |
| (*click* Six minutes, Slim Shady, you’re on) |
| My baby’s mom, b*tch made me an angry blonde |
| So I made me a song, killed her and put Hailie on |
| I may be wrong, I keep thinkin these crazy thoughts |
| In my cranium, but I’m stuck with a crazy mom |
| («Is she really on as much dope as you say she’s on?») |
| Came home, and somebody musta broke in the back window |
| And stole two loaded machine guns and both of my trenchcoats |
| Sick sick dreams of picnic scenes, two kids, sixteen |
| With M-16's and ten clips each |
| And them shits reach through six kids each |
| And Slim gets blamed in Bill Clint’s speech to fix these streets? |
| F*CK THAT! |
| PBBT! |
| Tou faggots can vanish to volcanic ash |
| And re-appear in hell with a can of gas, AND a match |
| Aftermath, Dre, grab the gat, show 'em where it’s at |
| (What the fuck you starin at, ni*ga?) |
| Don’t you remember me? |
| Remember me? |
| Remember me? |
| REMEMBER ME! |