| Nah man
|
| Not quite finished yet
|
| Girl, I think,
|
| You just might’ve tried to pull a motherfucking fast one, I’m mad
|
| You just hurt my goddamn feeling, and that was the last one I had
|
| Does this look like an arcade? |
| Tryna play games?
|
| See this saw blade? |
| See the silhouette of a stalker
|
| In your walk-way? |
| Better co-operate
|
| Or get sautéed and rotisseried while you’re hog-tied
|
| MCs get so quiet you can hear a motherfucking dog whistle when I walk by
|
| 'Colt Seavers' on a mule, stunting on that ass like the fucking Fall Guy
|
| I don’t gas my Mercedes after midnight, I treat it like a Mogwai
|
| 'Cause it will turn into a Gremlin and run over kids, women and men
|
| Vrinn-vrinn! |
| Motor’s so big you can fit a midget in his engine
|
| Bitch, give me them digits, why you’re cringin'
|
| Not by the hair on my chinny-chin-chin
|
| Will I spend-spend even ten cents on you, since when
|
| Do you think it’s gonna cost me a pretty penny?
|
| Shit, if I think a penny’s pretty
|
| Just imagine how beautiful a quarter is to me
|
| Eenie meenie miney mo,
|
| Catch an Eskimo by his toe (you don’t own me)
|
| While he’s trying to roll a snowball,
|
| But don’t make him lose his cool
|
| If he hollers better let him go ya’ll, 'cause (you don’t own me)
|
| Now here we go go go
|
| Get up! |
| Baby, get a move on, like a U-Haul
|
| You can rack your brain like pool balls
|
| You won’t ever think of this shit
|
| Yeah, honey you called?
|
| Well, here I come, Havoc on the beat, I wreak it
|
| Evil I see, hear and speak it
|
| Lady, put your money on Shady
|
| Fuck that other weak shit
|
| Put your eggs in the same basket
|
| You can count every motherfucking chicken 'fore it hatches
|
| 'Cause, you can bet your ass that we gon' get it crackin'
|
| Like the Kraken and Titans when they’re clashin'
|
| Get your brains bashed in so bad
|
| You gon' have Kurt Cobain askin'
|
| To autograph a bloodstained napkin
|
| Unfashionable and 'bout as rational
|
| As a rash on a fag’s asshole
|
| Now let’s take that line, run it up the flag pole with Elton
|
| See if he’s cool with it
|
| Don’t stand there and look stupid at me, bitch
|
| I ain’t in the mood for this shit
|
| Get my dick, Google it 'til it pops up
|
| Ya’ll are so motherfucking full of shit that you’re stopped up
|
| Me, I’m always shitting diarrhea of the mouth
|
| 'Til your speakers crap out «Ohp, what?»
|
| Girl, you got a hot butt like a lit cigarette «Chik-Chigarette»
|
| But you won’t get a hot fudge Sundae from me
|
| So do not strut my way, slut! |
| Because…
|
| You don’t own me
|
| Here we go go go
|
| And now that I got your panties in a bunch
|
| And your bowels in an uproar
|
| I’mma show you why I came
|
| So you stop asking me what the fuck for
|
| Now look you little slut, cunt, whore I know you want more,
|
| Bitch, it’s time to put the 'Math' back in the Mathers
|
| 'Cause I’m a fucking problem, run boy!
|
| Every flow got it mastered
|
| So every last word that you fucking fags heard
|
| Comes straight from the fish’s ass, yeah
|
| In other words I’m a bass-turd!
|
| Looking at me like I killed Kenny
|
| Gas in the tank, yeah still plenty
|
| No morals are instilled in me
|
| So remorse I really don’t feel any
|
| Eat your heart out, Hannibal
|
| Understandable why you’re jealous, fucking animal
|
| I got cannibal magnetism, can’t resist him now, can ya hoe?
|
| Shady, I don’t understand your flow.
|
| Understand my flow?
|
| Bitch, I flow like Troy Polamalu’s hair, boy.
|
| Don’t you dare try to follow or compare, boy.
|
| I’m raw, you ain’t even medium rare
|
| Stay the fuck outta my hair, boy!
|
| You can look, you can stare and point
|
| But you can’t touch -- I’m too clairvoyant.
|
| I don’t get it man, is there a void
|
| All this weak shit, what am I steroids?
|
| Well, bitch, I’m back with some shit for that ass
|
| And your trunk, elephant hemorrhoids
|
| And remember boys
|
| You don’t own me
|
| Now here we go go go
|
| Thank you for coming out
|
| Hope you enjoyed the show
|
| 'Til next time
|
| Ha ha
|
| Peace! |