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Текст песни Eminem & Rihanna - 11) Marshall Mathers

Артист: Eminem & Rihanna
Песня: 11) Marshall Mathers  показать видеоклип
У песни 47 просмотров

Eminem & Rihanna - 11) Marshall Mathers

 

You know I just don't get it
Last year I was nobody, this year I'm sellin' records
Now everybody wants to come around, like I owe 'em somethin'
Heh, the fuck you want from me, ten million dollars?
Get the fuck out of here

You see I'm, just Marshall Mathers, Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy
I don't know why all the fuss about me, fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before
All they did was doubt me, did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth
And try to take shots at me, take shots at me

Yo, you might see me joggin', you might see me walkin'
You might see me walkin' a dead rottweiler dog
With it's head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar
Hollerin' at him 'cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin'

Or leanin' out a window with a cocked shotgun
Drivin' up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in
Lookin' for Big's killers, dressed in ridiculous
Blue and red, like I don't see what the big deal is

Double barrel twelve gage bigger than Chris Wallace
Pissed off 'cause Biggie and 'Pac just missed all this
Watchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em
And get dollars that shoulda been, there's like they switched wallets

And amidst all this Crist' poppin' and wristwatches
I had to sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
And walk around with an empty bottle of Remi Martin
Startin' shit like some 26-year-old skinny Cartman, goddamn it

I'm anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin
With instincts to kill N'Sync, don't get me started
These fuckin' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage
What's this bitch retarded? Gimme back my sixteen dollars

All I see is sissies in magazines smiling
Whatever happened to whylin' out and bein' violent?
Whatever happened to catchin' a good-ol' fashioned
Passionate ass-whoopin' and gettin' your shoes coat
And your hat tooken?

New Kids on the Block, sucked a lot of dick
Boy, girl groups make me sick
And I can't wait 'til I catch all you fagots in public
Imma love it

Vanilla Ice don't like me
Said some shit in Vibe to spite me
Then went and dyed his hair just like me
A bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me

And run around screamin', "I don't care, just bite me"
I think I was put here to annoy the world
And destroy your little 4-year-old boy or girl
Plus I was put here to put fear in fagots who spray Faygo Root Beer

And call themselves 'Clowns' 'cause they look queer
Faggot2Dope and Silent Gay
Claimin' Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away, fuckin' punks
And I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin' fagots the fuck out

Ask 'em about the club, they was at when they snuck out
After they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out
Ducked down and got paint balls shot at they truck, blaow
Look at y'all, runnin' your mouth again

When you ain't seen a fuckin' Mile Road, South of 10
And I don't need help, from D-12, to beat up two females
In make-up, who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails
'Slim Anus', you damn right, Slim Anus
I don't get fucked in mine like you two little flaming fagots

'Cause I'm, just Marshall Mathers, Marshall Mathers
I'm not a wrestler guy
I'll knock you out if you talk about me, you talk about me
Come and see me on the streets alone
If you assholes doubt me, assholes doubt me
And if you wanna run your mouth
Then come take your best shot at me, your best shot at me

Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?
You little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy
Now because of this blonde mop that's on top
And this fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop?

The underground just spunned around and did a 360
Now these kids diss me and act like some big sissies
"Oh, he just did some shit with Missy
So now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with MC Get-Bizzy"

My fuckin' bitch mom's suin' for ten million
She must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin'
Shit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?
All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress

Which is it bitch, Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?
It doesn't matter your fagot
Talkin' about I fabricated my past
He's just aggravated, I won't ejaculate in his ass

So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?
For every million I make, another relative sues
Family fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper
All the sudden, I got 90 some cousins, hey, it's me

A half-brother and sister who never seen me
Or even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV
Now everybody's so happy and proud
I'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house

Hey, hey and then to top it off, I walked to the newsstand
To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp
Skipped to the last page, flipped right fast
And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass

Okay, let me give you motherfuckers some help
Uhh, here, double XL, double XL
Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell
Ahh, fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself

'Cause I'm, just Marshall Mathers, Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy
I don't know why all the fuss about me, fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before
All they did was doubt me, did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth
And try to take shots at me, take shots at me

Because I'm just Marshall Mathers, Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy
I don't know why all the fuss about me, fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before
All they did was doubt me, did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth
And try to take shots at me, take shots at me

 

 

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