Paul Where's my words at
Yo see Slim Shady
yo, where the birds at
Me and Flip the middle ones
Rappers get these little ones in they mouth
These little nuts, yeah
I don't care I ain't afraid to admit it
I got a little dick yeah, but so do you
You scared to admit it
You won't spit it on this mother freakin' mic
Cause I will strike and smack your ass like a freakin' fag
And I don't care if you get offended
I never pretended to rock this microphone beef
You wanna start it now we'll end it
Cause when I slip in the zone up on this microphone
People want me to do a written rap but fuck that go home
I don't really give a damn I'll kick right off of the top
And everything that I drop always gonna remain hot
Let on the spot, Slim, I mean woops, Grim it's when im dim
Yo, I'm in affect mode
Rappers get they neck sewed
Get they whole threshold fucked up
Get they damn fleshed sewed
Ha, ha
I busted, I kill it, I crush it, I do it, the fluid, I spill it, I'm ill wit
These motherfucking rhymes that I be coming with there running with me
Kick you in the motherfucking stomach shit
Cause you don't want none of it
Rappers always try but they always die
And rappers always stuck to me and tried to lie
(Arf, Arf)
Yo, where my dogs at
Yo (err, ribbit) where my frogs at
In the house, It really doesn't matter cause I still turn it out
When I step on this mic, smacking your spouse
Ha, Ha
The illest MC to come off the top
When I get this drum off
Yo Strech give me a break, let me catch my freakin' breath
And till' the death, bust rhymes till' there's none left
I'm wanted for theft and robbery
And probably smack a bitch up in the lobby G
Cause she don't want none of me
I'm the illest MC to ever hold a cordless on the planet earth and you'll see
That I'm from the freakin' D
Ya'll don't get my point I'm from Detroit
Smoking fake grass like a joint
That's the first simplest rhyme I ever said in my life
But, at the end of the night I'll still be fucking your wife
Shit, I really don't care your style needs to switch
Cause you ain't rich, that's why you ain't rich
Remain underground, can't come off the top
You can't drop rhymes nonstop like this
I might twist my freakin' dick up in your ear
Rappers always wanna stand clear
I'm a motherfucking landmine
Ya'll don't understand mine
I'm Slim Shady showing out like my tan line
Ha, ha
The illest MC to rhyme
Every time the illest MC of our time
I rhyme time and time twice but I'm nice
With this mic device I slice right through your Adams apple
I had a Snapple and a motherfreakin' syringe
Up in the bathroom I shouldn't have but yo I boinked
To any MC up in this shit who want some
To any MC who wanna step up and get some
Get done, fuck competition
Let me catch my breath one more time
Yo, I'm on a mission
To stomp any MC comp I just trunked
And swamp is this truamp a word? no its not
Yo, but here I go with this lyrical, miracles, spiritual flows, that I slow
Driving MC's crazy, Slim Shady, up in your motherfucking radio baby
Ha ha