Eminem "ShadyXV" Слова песни

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ShadyXV

I'm liable to start a violent spark with a silent thoughtI disgust you like dialogue from The Shop to The Wired FrogNight club, shit, I was taught if your CD's on fireYou had to put it out yourself like Highland Park, no fire departmentSo you might not hear sirens at allBut don't be alarmed if I sound offSomething just ain't right with me, dawgA martyr on a private charter, whose life could be harder?Widely regarded highly, bite me, sweetheart, I'm slightly retardedBut tonight I'm starting shit, I'm feeling self righteousI might just hop in a mosh pit on some Mike Tyson and Pac shitLooking to box with anybody, disorderly conductI'll fuck around and snort a key and pick a fight with a locksmithFan of the LOX, bananas, manic, I'm going in shockFrantic, I'm trapped in a closetPanic attack cause I'm claustrophobicNo, faggot, I mean I can't maneuver from movementCause I have no room for improvementI'm practically squashed, unpacked it and boxed itToxic, hands are arsenic, flammable bars, examine the contentBar exam, start of insanityCharles Hamilton slash Manson and BronsonAnimal snarls, cannibal jawsShark mandibles, lambs to the slaughterLooking scamp as Hannibal stalkingAnthony Hopkins with his hands in his pocketsBlack out, Zach Galifianakis, gallons of VodkaBut that gal has some knockersI bet you they ring a bell when I come back and I'm consciousWhat happened, doc? I passed out againAlcohol's making me break into vacant's nakedStole a Magnum box and bag Cirocs in back of a DatsunFell asleep watching Fear Factor and Scare TacticsToo close to the StairMasterPoked a hole in the air mattress and popped itWoke up shortly thereafter, hungoverNo underwear, grasping a Bayer Aspirin and dropped itAir Max in my closet, preposterous Nikes made out of ostrichAnd the cross stitching is a cross mixingOf a rhinoceros, possum skin, giraffe and a dolphinFin Dockers, OshKoshes, drop crotchesSwatch watches and sneakers matches with the ParkersBut it's like being overstaffed at a boxing gymWith all these trainers, but I don't have any boxersAnd I'm standing here naked, hangover, still wastedLike paper you write raps on, obnoxiousYo, why does it always sound like I'm grabbing my nostrils?Fuck that, I'll battle 'em all, I'll battle a mallI’ll stand there and yell that at a wallUntil the mannequin doll scatter and the inanimate objectsThat I'm battering all shatter and fallCause I hear the track and I'm starting to get fucking ampedI'mma spark plug, I'm like the car with the cables hooked up to my fucking back, I'm a DuracellBut I sure as hell got it backwards cause y'all could get jumpedAnd I'd catch the battery charge, butI got a hunch like your back when it's archingWhen I start attacking your squadronYou'll feel like MasterCard when I'm chargingSo take a swipe at me, I'm coming straight at youLike Clay Matthews from the Green Bay PackersSo get the sack of WisconsinThat's nutbag that I'm talking, who am I kidding?You faggots are all gonna do my biddingDon't get dragged to the auctionNeiman Marcus, bags of Vuitton and allI'll push a bitch into oncoming traffic, just watch thisStretched, tinted, black sedan my assSee how mad you act when I drop you off at Saks Fifth AveIn a fucking taxi cab to go shoppingAffable guy next door is laughableMy next whore's gonna have mechanical armsThat'll jack me off with a lotion dispenser with a motion sensorNo emotion hence I guess this sick prick dies hardI got a Magic JohnsonIt's like a Magic Wand allows me to not let a blonde arouse meIf Ronda Rousey was on the couch with the condoms outHolding a thousand Magnums at once to pounce meI'll laugh in response to how she dances and flaunts it around meHer flat little badonkadonk is bouncing aroundAnd all I see is Paulie Malign now, she's slaughterhouse in a blouseAnd Madonna with mud on her, God dammit I am misogynistI slap Linda Ronstadt with a lobster, throw her off a balconyJust so happens she's fond of algaeCause now she's faceplants on the concreteComplete lack of responsibilityHalf you assholes ain't strong enough to pick up a spiritShit, you fags couldn't shoplift at a thrift shopBut I let the track lift 'em up, boost the energyKlepto, I'm back to rip shop up, but my thing is this nowFive-finger discountBeen rapping so long I've been killing this shit, it's easyKidnapping your mom cause I'm still in this bitch, thieveryRansom for JonBenét Ramsey, Chandra Levy, and Gary Condit("Em") Paul was scared that if I went back to the blondeI might relapse, get on some bullshitPerhaps I'll launch some cracker taunts at Action BronsonMacklemore, Mac Miller and Asher RothAnd have some back and forthsAnd record a wack response to Kendrick Lamar's "Control" verseAnd perform "Fack" in concert["Fack" plays]Yo, I put that shit on a greatest hits albumNow that was awesomeIt takes some massive balls to do some shit like thatSometimes I have to ponder why people are like(I'll stick around)And put up with my crap so long forWhat's the attraction, mama?Is it the fact that I'm a walking, talking, actual quadruple entendreOr the pointy nose that's pointing at you, mama?Who knows at this point, it's always poking so mehStill get along with this voice cause that's the monsterSo do-si-do with a sociopath, everyone who knows me knows thatWhat they don't know is the fact Rihanna calls me Pinocchio, mehShe loves the way I lieSits on my face and waits for my nose to growPathological liar, oh, why am I such an assholeThat my disguise is pants, but they on fireSo am I-a, wooh, Cappadonna, cut the track off (fart sound)Sabotage Christmas, crap in your stockingI'm wrapping up all the presentsIn fucking camouflage so you can't even find 'emJack Santa Claus, snap Rudolph's antlers offWrap his schnoz in gauze bandage and blind himBlowing the head gasket at Bed, Bath and BeyondPut the basket back while the bath salt packets are gone, IKnow you really tired of me sampling Billy SquierBut classic rock acid rap is the genreGot Slash on guitar, splashing Bizarre, Thrasher and AerosmithAnd I'm a spectacular archer, feed count Dracula ChoculaGodzilla, half dragon and Bob DylanBandwagoners, I'm kicking the damn stragglers off and I'm strangling 'emSmack Kim Basinger on a ass....

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