Eminem

Eminem - Under The Influence songtekst

Je score:

(Gibberish) translation:
So you can suck my dick if you don`t like, my shit
`Cause I was high when I wrote this so suck, my dick
(Eminem)
Two pills I pop, `til my pupils swell up like two pennies
I`m Clint Eastwood in his mid-20`s
A young-ass man with a trash can strapped to the back of his ass
So the rats can`t chew through his last pants
I`m like a mummy at night, fightin` with bright lightnin`
Frightened with five little white Vicaden pills bitin` him
I`m like a fuckin` wasp in the hospital, lost
Stingin` the fuck out of everything I come across in the halls
I light a candle and place it up on the mantle
Grab a knife by the blade and stab you with the fuckin` handle
So when you find yourself wrapped up in the blinds hurtin`
(Bitch it`s too late)
`Cause once you`re hung from the drapes, it`s "curtains"
(Swifty McBay)
I`m an instigator, three-eighty slug penetrator
They bring creative murders to kill haters
Accused for every crime known to the equator
They knew I did it, for havin` blood on my gators
My weed`ll hit your chest like a double-barreled gauge`er
I`m a black grenade that`ll blow up in your face
With a fifth in me, when I guzzle Henny I do shit on purpose
You`ll never hear me say "forgive me"
I`m snatchin` every penny, it`s gotta be that way
Nigga face it, that weed I sold to you?  Regate laced it
You had it, I`ll make the President get a face-lift
Niggas just afraid, handin` me their bracelets
Chillin` in the lab wasted
I`m the type that`ll drink Kaluha and Gin, and throw up on the mic
Don`t like this rule, you get socked right on sight
And even at the Million Man March, we gonna fight
Chorus:
So you can suck my dick if you don`t like, my shit
`Cause I was high when I wrote this so suck, my dick
`Cause I don`t give a fuck if you don`t like, my shit
`Cause I was high when I wrote this so suck, my dick
(Bizarre)
I`m a compulsive liar, set my preacher on fire
Slash your tires, find out, thinkin` they`re mine
Plate`s expired, so as soon as I`m hired, I`m fired
Jackin` my dick off in a band of barbed wires
"Hey, is Bizarre performing?"
Bitch, didn`t you read the flyer? 
Special invited guest will be Richard Pryor
"Aren`t you a male dancer?"
Naw bitch, I`m retired, for fuckin` a bitch in the ass with a tire iron
I`m ripped, I`m on an acid trip
My DJ`s in a coma for lettin` the record skip
Lettin` the record skip - lettin` the record skip
(reverse revolving of record)
I`m fuckin` anything when I`m snortin`
It`s gonna cost $300 dollars to get my pit bull an abortion
Some bitch asked for my autograph
I called her a whore, spit beer in her face, and laughed
I drop bombs like I was in Vietnam
All bitches are hoes, even my stinkin` ass moms
(Caniver)
Ayo flashback, two seats, too deep up in that asscrack
Weed laced with somethin`, nigga pass that
And after then we go to hang out with hashrats
At a Stop The Violence rally
I blast gats, be it a mom or publishing 
Get your ass capped, the Caniver divider
Yo cash that, run your motherfuckin` pockets
ASAP, I don`t need a platinum chain
Bitch, I`ll snatch Shaq`s, born loser
Half-thief and half-black
Bring your boys and your guns, and get laughed at
Bitch smack `em, bitch rappers get ejac-jacked
Found chopped-up in a trash bag
(Dirty Harry)
Stranglin` rappers to the point they can`t yell
`Cause their crew is full of fags that`re sweeter than bake sales
Wreckless, come from behind and snatch your necklace
Cruisin` and causin` more trouble than nine hoodlums
I rattle your Adam`s Apple until it crackles
Run right past you, turn around, grab you and stab you
Get executed, `cause I`m a looney
I got an adept mind, and it`s polluted
I cock it back then shoot it
I love snatchin` up players, thugs, and young ballers
Shoot up they household, even the young toddlers
Brigades barricade to bring the noise
Watch the bullets wrap your bones up like Christmas toys
If I go solo, I`m doing a song with Bolo
A big Chinese nigga, screamin` "Ihava yo-yo"
I`ll leave your face leakin` 
Run up in church and smack the preacher while he`s preachin`
Take a swing at the deacon
(The Con Artist)
I used to tell cats I sold weed and weight
I was straight until I got caught sellin` em shaped
I`m ignorant, with the intent to snatch your rent
I got kicked out of summer camp for havin` sex in my tent
While the superintendent thought up, my brain`s out of order
I`ve been a con artist since I was swimmin` in water
And cahoots with this nigga named Fall Out Tom (?)
Who got fired from UPS for tryin` to send you a bomb (special delivery)
I signed to a local label for fun
Say I got cancer, get dropped an advancement and run
Ride by you in the rain while you carry your son
Call your house and hang up on you for not givin` me none
Born straight up out a pussy but a son of a gun
Got a reputation for havin` niggas run up they funds
Used to be the type of nigga that was full of some one`s
`Til I met your fat mama, now I`m rollin` in dough
Chorus
Suck my motherfuckin` dick...
D-12... Dirty motherfuckin` Dozen...
Assed you like a snake slut bitch with 30 fuckin` husbands...
Bizarre kid... Swifty McBay... The Con Artist... The Caniver... Dirty Harry...
Haha, and Slim Shady...
Vind dit lied op:
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amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: DeShaun Holton, Denaun Porter, Marshall Mathers, Ondre Moore, Rufus Johnson, Von Carlisle

Componist: ?

Publisher: Interscope Records, Inc.

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 2000

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)

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