| Look, I was gonna go easy on you and not to hurt your feelings
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| But I'm only going to get this one chance
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| Something's wrong, I can feel it
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| (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on)
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| Just a feeling I've got,
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| Like something's about to happen, but I don't know what
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| If that means, what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble,
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| And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances
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| You were just what the doctor ordered
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| I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
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| All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
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| Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slapbox, slapbox?
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| They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rapbot
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| But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes
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| I got a laptop in my back pocket
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| My pen'll go off when I half-cock it
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| Got a fat knot from that rap profit
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| Made a living and a killing off it
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| Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office
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| With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his nut-sack
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| I'm an MC still as honest
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| But as rude and as indecent as all hell
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| Syllables, killaholic (Kill 'em all with)
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| This slickety, gibbedy, hibbedy hip-hop
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| You don't really wanna get into a pissing match with this rappidy rap
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| Packing a Mac in the back of the Ac,
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| Backpack rap crap, yep, yep, yackity-yak
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| Now at the exact same time
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| I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing that
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| I'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' table
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| Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half
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| Only realized it was ironic
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| I was signed to Aftermath after the fact
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| How could I not blow?
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| All I do is drop F-bombs, feel my wrath of attack
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| Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a maxipad
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| It's actually disastrously bad for the wack
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| While I'm masterfully constructing this masterpiece as
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| I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
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| All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
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| Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slapbox, slapbox?
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| Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that hard, that hard
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| Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got
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| Well, to be truthful the blueprint's simply rage and youthful exuberance
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| Everybody loves to root for a nuisance
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| Hit the earth like an asteroid, did nothing but shoot for the moon since
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| MC's get taken to school with this music
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| Cause I use it as a vehicle to bust a rhyme
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| Now I lead a new school full of students
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| Me? |
| I'm a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac N-
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| -W.A, Cube, Hey Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim
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| Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position
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| To meet Run DMC, induct them, into the motherfuckin' Rock n' Roll Hall of Fame
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| Even though I walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames
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| Only Hall of Fame I be inducted in is the alcohol of fame
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| On the wall of shame
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| You fags think it's all a game 'til I walk a flock of flames
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| Off a plank, and tell me what in the fuck are you thinking?
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| Little gay looking boy
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| So gay I can barely say it with a straight face looking boy (haha!)
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| You witnessing a massacre
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| Like you watching a church gathering take place looking boy
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| Oy vey, that boy's gay, that's all they say looking boy
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| You get a thumbs up, pat on the back
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| And a way to go from your label everyday looking boy
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| Hey, looking boy, what you say looking boy?
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| I get a "hell yeah" from Dre looking boy
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| I'mma work for everything I have
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| Never ask nobody for shit, get outta my face looking boy
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| Basically boy you're never gonna be capable
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| To keeping up with the same pace looking boy
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| I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God
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| All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod
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| The way I'm racing around the track, call me Nascar, Nascar
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| Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God
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| Kneel before General Zod this planet's Krypton, no Asgard, Asgard
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| So you be Thor and I'll be Odin, you rodent, I'm omnipotent
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| Let off then I'm reloading immediately with these bombs I'm totin'
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| And I should not be woken
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| I'm the walking dead, but I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating |
| But I got your mom deep throating
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| I'm out my ramen noodle, we have nothing in common, poodle
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| I'm a doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil
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| It's me, my honesty's brutal
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| But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though
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| For good at least once in a while
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| So I wanna make sure somewhere
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| In this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle
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| Enough rhymes to maybe try to help
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| Get some people through tough times
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| But I gotta keep a few punchlines just in case cause even you unsigned
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| Rappers are hungry looking at me like it's lunchtime
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| I know there was a time where once I
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| Was king of the underground,
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| But I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind
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| So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine
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| Appeal with the skin color of mine
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| You get too big and here they come trying to censor you
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| Like that one line I said
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| On "I'm Back" from the Mathers LP1
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| Where I tried to say I take seven kids from Columbine
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| Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine
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| See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was
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| But I've morphed into an immortal coming through the portal
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| You're stuck in a timewarp from 2004 though
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| And I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for
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| You're pointless as Rapunzel with fucking cornrows
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| You're like normal, fuck being normal
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| And I just bought a new Raygun from the future
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| To just come and shoot ya like when Fabolous made Ray J mad
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| Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Mayweather's pad
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| Singin' to a man while they played piano
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| Man, oh man, that was a 24/7 special on the cable channel
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| So Ray J went straight to the radio station the very next day
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| ''Hey, Fab, I'mma kill you''
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| Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed, (JJ Fad)
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| Uh, sama lamaa duma lamaa you assuming I'm a human
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| What I gotta do to get it through to you I'm superhuman
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| Innovative and I'm made of rubber
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| So that anything you say is ricocheting off of me and it'll glue to you
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| I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating
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| How to give a motherfuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating
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| Never fading, and I know the haters are forever waiting
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| For the day that they can say I fell off, they'd be celebrating
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| Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated
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| I make elevating music, you make elevator music
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| Oh, he's too mainstream
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| Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it
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| It's not hip hop, it's pop, cause I found a hella way to fuse it
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| With rock, shock rap with Doc
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| Throw on Lose Yourself and make 'em lose it
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| I don't know how to make songs like that
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| I don't know what words to use
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| Let me know when it occurs to you
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| While I'm ripping any one of these verses, that versus you
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| It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurtin' you
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| How many verses I gotta murder to prove
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| That if you were half as nice at songs,
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| You can sacrifice virgins to (ughhh)
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| School flunkie, pill junky
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| But look at the accolades the skills brung me
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| Full of myself, but still hungry
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| I bully myself cause I make me do what I put my mind to
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| And I'm a million leagues above you,
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| Ill when I speak in tongues
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| But it's still tongue in cheek, fuck you
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| I'm drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel,
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| I'm asleep in the front seat
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| Bumping Heavy D and the Boys, still chunky, but funky
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| But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling
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| Angels fight with devils and here's what they want from me
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| They're asking me to eliminate some of the women hate
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| But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred I had
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| Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic to the situation
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| And understand the discrimination
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| But fuck it, life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then
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| But if I can't batter the women how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?
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| Don't mistake it for Satan
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| It's a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas
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| And take a vacation to trip abroad
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| And make her fall on her face and don't be a retard
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| Be a king? |
| Think not - why be a king when you can be a God? |