I can almost taste it
This sh** makes no sense to me
What does it all mean?
I can almost taste it
I can almost see it
[Spoken: Eminem]
Can't stop now
This might be the last chance I get
To be famous
[Hook: Liz Rodrigues]
You dream of trading places, I have been changing faces
You cannot fill these shoes, there is too much to lose
Wake up behind these trenches, you run around defenseless
There is too much to lose, You cannot fill these shoes
I just want to be famous...but
Be careful what you wish for
[Verse 1: Eminem]
I stuck my dick in this game like a rapist
They call me Slim Roethlisberger
I go berserker than a fed up post office worker
I murk her with a Mossberg
I'm pissed off get murdered
Like someone took a ketchup squirter
Squirted a frankfurter
For a gangster you sure did sh** your pants
When you saw the chainsaw get to waving
Like a terrible towel
How thangs turn around
When his fangs come out
Get your brains blown out
That's what I call blowing your mind
When I come back
Like nut on your spine
I'm a thumb tack
That you slept on son
Now here I come screaming "Attack!"
Like I just stepped on one
Low on the totem til he showed 'em
Defiance, giant scrotum
He don't owe them b**hes sh**
His britches, he out grow'd em
He's so out cold he's knocked out at the South Pole
And nobody f**s with him
Rigor mortis and post mortem
He's dying of boredom
Take your best rhymes, record 'em
Then try to thwart him
He'll just take your punch lines and snort em
sh** stained drawers
You gon f** with a guy who licks the blades of his chainsaws
While he dips 'em in P.F. Chang's sauce
Game's up, homie, hang it up like some crank calls
You think I'm backing down you must be out of your dang skulls
[Hook: Liz Rodrigues]
You dream of trading places, I have been changing faces
You cannot fill these shoes, there is too much to lose
Wake up behind these trenches, you run around defenseless
There is too much to lose, You cannot fill these shoes
[Verse 2: Eminem]
I'm back for revenge
I lost a battle that ain't happening again
I'm at your throat like strep
I step, strapped with a pen
Metaphors wrote on my hand
Some are just stored in my memory
Some I wrote on a napkin
I do what I have to to win
Pulling out all stops, any who touch a mic prior's
Not even Austin Powers, how the f** are they Mike Myers?
And tell that psycho to pa** the torch
To the wacko before I take a sh** in his Jack-O-Lantern
And smash it on his porch
Now get off my dick
Dick's too short of a word for my dick
Get off my antidisestablishmentarianism, you prick
Don't call me the champ; call me the space shuttle destroyer
I just blew up the Challenger, matter fact I need a lawyer
I just laced my gloves with enough plaster to make a cast
Beat his a** naked and peed in his corner like Verne Troyer
Y'all are Eminem backwards, you're Mini Me's
See he's in a whole nother weight cla**
He's slugs; you're BBs, you're bean-bag bullets
You're full of it; you were dissing his CDs
Laughed at Infinite, now he's back like someone pissed in his Wheaties
No peace treaties, he's turned into a beast
His new Slim Shady EP's got the attention of the mighty D.R.E
He's almost famous
[Hook: Liz Rodrigues]
You dream of trading places, I have been changing faces
You cannot fill these shoes, there is too much to lose
Wake up behind these trenches, you run around defenseless
There is too much to lose, You cannot fill these shoes
[Verse 3: Eminem]
Now there he goes in Dre's studio cupping his balls
Screaming the wood off the paneling, cussing the paint off the walls
Spewing his hate to these haters, showing no love for these broads
He ain't given them sh**, he says he'll pinch a penny so hard
He'll leave a bruise on the bronze so dark you can see the mark
With the scars, til Abraham Lincoln is screaming out AHH
These metaphors and similes ain't similar to them, not at all
If they don't like it, they can all get f**ed instead of s**ing him off
They can go get a belt or a neck tie, to hang themselves by
Like David Carradine they can go f** themselves and just die
And eat sh** while they at it
He's f**ing had it, he's mad at the whole world
So go to hell and build a snowman, girl
The bullies become bullied, and pussies get pushed
Then they better pull me, take me back to 9th grade to school me
Cause I ain't looking back, only forward, this whole spot blowing
Who could've known he'd grow to be a poet and not know it
And while I'm being poetic let me get it stoic and raise the bar
Higher than my opinion of these women's been lowered
So bear witness to some biblical sh**
There's a cold wind blowing, this world ain't gonna know what hit it
He did it, he made it, he's finally famous