Ca sĩ: Eminem Album: Game Face (CD2)

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Songwriters: MATHERS, MARSHALL B. III / HARRIS, JEMAL A.
Yeah,
You know technically,
I'm not even really supposed to be here right now,
So fuck it,
Might as well make the most of it.
Amen (8x)
Yeah, haha
Feels good,
Whooo,
Guess I'm lucky,
Some of us don't get a second chance.
But I aint blowing this one.
Naw man, haha,
Shit I feel like I can do anything now
Who can catch lightning in the bottle,
Set fire to water,
Commin out the nozzle on the fire hose,
Flyer than swatters.
Smash an hour glass,
Grab the sand,
Take his hands an cup em,
Spin around to freeze the clock,
Take the hands of time an cuff em.
There's a storm commin that the weather man couldn't predict,
I start to ball prick you better flee cuz I get ticked
It's a wrap, I was down, when I was down I was kicked
I got up
I'm back to punch ya to the ground, ya tricked,
It's a trap,
Fuck my last cd that shits in my trash,
I be god damned if another rapper gets in my ass,
I hit the gas and I spit every rap as if it's my last.
You can die in the blink of an eye,
So bat ya eyelashes, and keep winking and blowin kisses
Cuz your flirting with death
I'm destroying your livelihood, I aint just hurting your rep,
I catch a flow and get goin,
No remorse, I'm showinn they slowin, for no one,
Knowin there is nothing you can do about it
Zeroin on the target like a marksman,
The target is you,
I shut ya lane down,
Took ya spot, parked in it too,
Arsenic flow, lighter fluid, saliva what can ya do,
Go get ya crew to hype ya up stand behind you like wooooh!
That boys hot enough to melt hell burn satan too,
Fry his ass, and put his ashes back together with glue,
So you can hate em, he don't blame you frankly he would too,
This game could I'll afford to lose him,
How bout you?
Now guess who who (hey),
Heres a clue (hey),
He came to a ball in a wife beater
Lost his nike shoe,
It's in ya ass (hey),
He's in ya ass, he's all up in ya psyche too,
Now what's his name
If I had a time machine, I'd be
Music is my time machine so call me,
Fuck catching lightnin
He struck it
Screamed shut up at thunder,
Flipped the world upside down and made it rain upward
Rewound the future to the present,
Paused it don't ask how,
Fuck the past motherfucker
He's the shit right now he's
Send the fellow Shady dang came to wrap the game up
In cellophane,
Raise hell from hell he came,
But didn't come to bore you with the cinderella story,
Nor did he come to do the same old,
Can't afford to be a lamo in this day in age,
And at this stage of the game
Mediocrity can no longer be allowed to fly,
So say bye,
To the old
H-I, To the new, casera
Consider it his last hoorah,
To coup de gra
Raise em high in the sky,
Keep em up
Time to bring the place alive,
Thanks for bein patient
I will make no more mistakes,
Shit my, potatoes baked,
Homie the veggies on my plate can fly,
My filet is smoking weed,
Yeah faggot the steaks are high,
Shit I aint even suppose to be here
By the grace of god,
The skin on my teeth
And the hair on my nuts
I skated by,
Now y'all are on thin ice
With ankle weights I'd hate to lie,
How fuckin irritated are you,
How much in ya face am I,
And aint shit you could do but fear it,
Proof us here in spirit
I'm his spittinn image
I'll mirror it
When I stand near it,
Your pussy lyric,
I cunt hear it,
Who forms pyramids and raps circles around square lyricists,
Who?
Heres a clue.
He came to the ball in his wifebeater,
Lost his nike shoe, it's in ya ass, he's in ya ass,
He's all up in ya psyche too.
Now, what's his name...
If I had a time machine,
Music is my time machine, so call me,