Eminem

Eminem - Low Down Dirty lyrics

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You see this bullet hole in my neck? It's self inflicted
 Doctor slapped my momma  "Bitch you got a sick kid"
 Arrested  molested myself and got convicted
 Wearing visors  sunglasses and disguises
 Cause my split personality is having an identity crisis
 I'm Dr. Hyde and Mr. Jekyl
 Disrespectful
 Hearing voices in my head while these whispers echo
 "Murder Murder Redrum"
 Brain size of a bread crumb
 Which drug will I end up dead from
 Inebriated, till my stress is eleviated
 "How in the fuck can Eminem and shady be related?"
 Illiterate, illigitimate shit spitter
 Bitch getter, hid in the bush like Margot Kidder
 Jumped out (Ahhhh!) killed the bitch and did her
 Use to let the babysitter suck my dick when I was little'er
 Smoke a blunt while I'm titty fuckin Bette Midler
 Sniper, waiting on your roof like the Fiddler
 Y'all thought I was gonna rhyme with Riddler
 Didn't Ya? Bring your bitch I wanna see if this dick gon' fit in her
 (Redman Sample)
 I'm low down and I'm shiftee
 And if you hear a man that sounds like me smack'em
 And ask him where the fuck did he get his damn raps from
 (repeat)
 I lace tunes, I'm out this world like Space Moons
 With a bunch crazed loons dismissin brains like braze wounds
 Nothing but idiots and misfits, dipshits
 Doing whippits, passed out like Sanford snippits
 Where's the weed, I wanna tamper with it
 I'ma let your grandpa hit it
 Mix it up with cocaine so her can't forget it
 Fuck it, maybe I'm a bum
 But I was put on this earth to make your baby mama cum
 So what I'm on is way beyond the bomb or any alcoholic beverage
 Losing all of my leverage
 Went up inside the First National Bank broke, and left rich
 Walking bio-hazard causing wreckage
 Smoked out like ?
 Band just making my neck itch
 What the fuck? Gimme the tech bitch
 You just lost your tip, there's a pubic hair in my breakfast
 Got shit popping off like bottle cap tips
 Get your cap peeled like the dead skin of your mama's chapped lips
 Slap hips, support domestic violence
 Beat your bitches ass while your kids stare in silence
 I'm just joking, is Dirty Dozen's really dust smoking?
 If all your shit's missing, than probably one of us broke in
 Chorus
 My head's ringing, like it was Spider Sense tingling
 Lit it like Green Bay did when they shitted on New England
 I'm out the game, put the second string in
 This Brandy got my swinging
 Bobbing back and forth like a penguin
 Delinquent, toking microphones with Broken English
 Make your mama be like "Ohh! This is good! Who sing this?"
 "Slim Shady, his tape is dope, I love it
 It's rugged, but he needs to quit talking all that drug shit."
 It was predicted by a medic
 I'd grow to be an addicted diabetic
 Living off liquid Triametic
 Pathetic, but I don't think this headache's ever vanishing
 Panicing, I think I might have just took too much Anasin
 Frozen Manaquin, posted stiffer than a statue
 I think I'm dying, God is that you?
 Somebody help me, before I OD on an LP
 Take me to ER ASAP for and IV
 Motherfuck JOP, they don't support no hip hop
 They say that's where it ends, the closest they gon come is Tupac
 It's politics, it's all a fix
 Setup by these white blue collared hicks
 Just to make a dollar off of black music
 With a subliminal ball of tricks
 But those can kiss ass and swallow dicks
 Chorus
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: Web Entertainment

Details:

Released in: 1997

Language: English

Appearing on: Slim Shady EP (1997)

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