Yo, mic-check (My dick!)
Testing, one, two... fuck
My dick... my nuts...
My attitude is worse than
N.W.A's was
I'll battle you over
Stupid shit
And diss people who
Aain't have shit to do with it
Like Cool J does (my tattoo!)
You see me standin'
Outside of your buildin'
Screamin': Puffy is good, but
Slim Shady is for the children!
I look at my life in a new light
Fuck it, give me two mics
I write songs for me,
Fuck what you like
You probably hear me
Rap half-hearted
'Cause I don't like rap anyway
I'm just tryin' to get
My porno career started
Every place and event—been
There, done that
Shit, Dre stuck me in a
Suitcase when he went
Want a deal?
Study these five chapters
Lesson 1: Throw demos as hard
Aas you can at signed rappers
Lesson 2: Face 'em and diss 'em
(what up, dawg?)
Don't give 'em a demo;
Kidnap 'em
And make 'em come to
Your basement and listen
(come on, you're coming with me,
motherfucker check this out)
Lesson 3: Get a job at a label
Switch demos with Canibus
And put yours on the owner's table
Lesson 4: Know you heard this before
Hey, let me get your number!
I'll call you tomorrow for sure
Don't act like a fan, you wanna get signed
Get the whitest A&R
You can find (hey dude, come here)
Pull him aside and rap as whack as you can
Lesson 5: Get a hook-up at Jive
Dress up like I.C.P. and have
Them come see you perform live
And that's the key,
But when you see me on the street
I ain't givin' you shit, bitch,
Don't even bother askin' me
Toilet water splashes me
Right in the ass when I'm spittin',
'Cause I'm always shittin'
When I'm rappin', like Master P
(UNNNGGGGH)
Got a blowjob from Paula Jones
And stuffed it so far in her mouth
My balls broke both of her collarbones
Told Mya this shit was all about me-ah
Gave Alyssa Milano syphilis,
Mono and gonorrhea
And all three of my
Main girls said See ya!
'Cause Brandy and Monica walked in
And caught me fuckin' Aaliyah
I splish-splash while
I'm takin' a bath
Grab a handful of pills,
Break 'em in half,
Take 'em and laugh
White trash, fuckin'
Your wife in the ass
While you're out siphonin' gas
For your lawn mower
To cut the grass
So if I hurt your self-esteem and
You get dissed too bad
(Yo, why you diss me?)
You know I just be sayin'
That to get you mad
And when I rap about a
Buncha shit you wished you had
(A big dick!)
You know I just be sayin'
That to get you mad
I can't listen to that song,
That shit's too sad
You know I just be sayin'
That to get you mad
He'll never make it, his
Wrist is slit too bad
(Nurse! Nurse!)
You know I just be
Sayin' that to get you mad
What a wonderful day!
I should go outside and play
Ain't no need to sit inside
The house and hibernate
Hi, Renée! I was just
About to toss a live grenade
In your driveway and
Drive away
Are you afraid of a blade
Made of a razor with AIDS?
Blood drippin' from it
Rippin' your stomach
Like a paper mâché
You talk a lot of shit,
But you was never ill though
I'm sick enough to beat
You to death with a
Feather pillow
Tipped over some cows,
Just for a joke and a laugh
Jumped up, choked a giraffe
Snapped his neck and
Broke it in half
Wagin' wars,
Went on stage
And sprayed Cage
With Agent Orange
And wiped my ass
With his page in Source
The demon is here,
Ssteamin' this year
I rip [Mystikal's] voice box
Out and scream in his ear
It's not a gimmick, bitch—i
t's an image, I live it
Give a fuck? I don't know
What a fuck is to give it
Yeah, I don't think this guy is well
I'm high as hell, I'll beat
You with a live cat
When I'm swingin'
Him by his tail
I'll fuckin'... I'll fuckin'...
Lay your nuts on the dresser
Just your nutsack by itself
And bang them shits
With a spiked bat
Cut your neck off and
Ssew your head right back
And leave you like that
You just triggered a prick
Who just mixed liquor
Who's itchin' to
Leave you disfigured
And stiffer than
Chris-stiff-er Reeves
I was teethin' with
Strep throat
While your mother
Was breastfeedin'
And gave her the
Flesh-eatin' disease
I'm iller than takin' a hammer
And beatin' your knees
And walkin' through
South Central L.A., bleedin' in jeans
(Am I a Blood or a Crip?)
Wakin' up the next day in
Breathin' machines
Flashin' back to bein' shot
And repeatin' the scenes
On how you just got smoked;
And if you do live
You'll be too scared to tell it,
Like a Biggie and Pac joke
So if I hurt your self-esteem
And you get dissed too bad
You know I just be sayin'
That to get you mad
And when I rap about a
Fat bitch that you wished you had
You know I just be sayin'
That to get you mad
I can't listen to that song,
That shit's too sad
You know I just be sayin'
That to get you mad
He'll never make it, his
Wrist is slit too bad
You know I just be sayin'
That to get you mad
I know that makes you
Real mad, don't it? (Uh, huh)
That's right
Slim Shady (Yo)
Sway & Tech
Spraying wreck (Bitch!)
And we don't give a heck,
Or a damn, or a fuck, or a shit
So suck my mothafuckin' dick
Wake up, Charl I'll tell you
What it mean to me
Mean hard beats, hard rhymes, B-boys
Hip-hop, baby, all the way
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