[Eminem:]
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Ayo, this next song, is a true story (Come here, bitch!)
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[Intro:]
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Cause some things in this universe
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Don't make sense but somehow (Always seem to fuckin' work)
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[Verse 1: Eminem]
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Flying down I-75 'bout to hop on 696
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I look over this fucking chick's tryna fix her makeup
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I'm like bitch, you ain't a plastic surgeon
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I advise ya to put up your visor, I'm getting kinda ticked
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You're blocking my side mirror, she's like yeah, so? I'm like so?
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You gon' need a stitch you keep actin' like that, ho
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I look like your husband slut? That's a rhetorical question
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You talk to me like you talk to him, I'll fuck you up
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In fact, get in the backseat, like the rest of my dates
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No bitch rides shotgun, what taxi?
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Stop and pick you some Maxi Pads up is that what you actually ask me?
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Bitch reaches over and smacks me
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And says I annoy the fuck outta her, get in the fucking back
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Put on your slut powder, you slut, what? Shut the fuck up now
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Or get your feelings hurt, worse than my last chick when
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I accidentally butt dialed her and she heard me spreading AIDS rumors about her
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Turn the radio up louder, make it thump
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While I bump that Relapse CD, tryna hit every bump in that cunt
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Thought I snap back in that accent cause she kept asking me
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To quit callin' her cunt, I said that I cunt! she said, Marshall
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[Hook: Eminem]
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You ain't really like that, oh-oh-oh
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You're putting on a show, where's your mic at?
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Cause you're breaking my heart
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She said you're breaking my heart
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[Verse 2: Royce Da 5'9"]
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Uh, pull up to the club in a Porsche, not a Pinto
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While Marshall's at a white trash party, I'm at drama central
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I walk up in there looking at my phone, on Twitter tweetin'
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I'm feelin' a bunch of bitches lookin' at a nigga, cheesin'
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I get approached by this little skeeser
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She asked me am I the realest G, cause I'm Gucci from head to feet
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I said, yeah, I'm really is cause I spit in your man's face
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Like Cam did that little kid on Killing Season
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She said I'm feeling your big ego, wait, am I talking wrong?
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I said nah, I'm a walking Kanye/Beyonce song
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She said I'm mad at you, I said why?
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She said why you never make songs for chicks as if it's hard to do?
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I said I make songs for me, leave the studio
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And go and fuck the bitch who belongs to who makin' songs for you
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She said I'm feelin' your whole swagger and flow, can we hook up?
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I said, umm, you just used the word swagger, so no, she said
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[Hook]
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[Verse 3: Eminem]
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We been ridin' around in this hatchback 'til I'm fucking hunchback
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Where the fuck's this party at slutbag cunt? Cut what act?
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Think it's an act? Fuck that, I'm tryna shag scuz
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Better find this love shack or somewhere to fuck at, ah, don't touch that
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You fat dyke, I'm tryna hear some Bagpipes from Baghdad
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Don't act like you don't like 'em, them accents, I rap tight
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And I'm a torture 'til we find this place, yeah that's right
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Thought it was just past this light, just past Van Dyke
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Better hit that map light, read them directions, oh yeah
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You can't read and you can't write, told me that last night
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She took my CD out the deck, snapped in half like
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Relapse sucked, I snapped, hit the gas like
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Blew through the light, spun out, hit a patch of black ice
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Forgot we had a trailer hitched to the back, we jackknifed
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Bitch flew out of the car, I laughed like, she deserved it
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She didn't think I'd act like that in person
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(Royce, Marshall just crashed right in front of the club!)
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[Verse 4: Royce Da 5'9"]
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Tell him I'll be there in a minute
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I'm tryna break up this cat fight between my mistress and damn wife
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Then a chick wanted a hug, she was phat
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So I gave her dat then I tell her to scat, I'm not mean, I'm cute
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On my way to the front door, taking the scenic route
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To avoid this chick with a lace front lookin' like Venus and Serena's hooves
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I'm just sayin', those chicks got horse asses, they been attractive
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Hope when they see me they don't slap me with they tennis rackets
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My mind drifted, back to this shit
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I seen my wife, push her down, step over her body and smack the mistress
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| Police outside, |
