Homicide歌词
作词 : Sir Robert Bryson Hall II/Marshall Mathers/Luis Resto/Tim Schoegje/Jeremy Alexander Uribe/Dillan Beau Bailard/Donnell Stephens III
作曲 : Sir Robert Bryson Hall II/Marshall Mathers/Luis Resto/Tim Schoegje/Jeremy Alexander Uribe/Dillan Beau Bailard/Donnell Stephens III
Son, you know why you the greatest alive?
Why, Dad?
Because you came out of my balls, nigga
Hahahahaha
**** rap
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
Who done had it,
And he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe,
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Leave a suicide note **** that
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
I'm comin' for your man
And his lady and even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika,
Slim Shady with rabies
I'm foamin' out the mouth,
Ain't nobody takin' me out
Every single rapper in the industry,
Yeah they know what I'm about
And I dare you to test me
'Cause not a single one of you mother****ers impress me
And maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration
But I'm full of innovation
And I'm tired of all of this high school
"He's cool, he's not" rap shit
Can a single one of you ****ers even rap? Shit
No, this ain't a diss to the game,
It's a gas to the flame
Nowadays, everybody sound the same, shit's lame
Like a moth to the flame, I'm a realer man, a killer
Know you feelin' it,
I sizzle when I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself
Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself
Mass murder like this can't be good for my health
When I rap like this, do I sound like shit?
Well, it don't really matter,
'Cause I'm killin' this shit
Yeah, I'm killin' this shit
Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm killin' this shit
Bobby, how many time you been killin' this shit?
Find another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit
**** rap
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
Who done had it,
And he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe,
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Even suicide, no **** that
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady
There's nowhere to hide, we call this shit genocide
Hit 'em with that (Do-do-do) and they die
We gon' leave 'em crucified,
We call this shit genocide
I got bitches, I got hoes,
I got rare designer clothes
No, we ain't ****in' with that
Yeah, there's a time and a place
But if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps
Callin' yourself the greatest alive
Then you don't deserve to do that
No, no, oh no, no, please do not do that
You gon' get smacked
You gon' make Bobby attack
You gon' make Bobby Boy snap
You gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy!)
**** rap
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe,
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Even suicide, no **** that
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady
Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z
Jig is up, you ****ers who didn't write anything
Are getting washed now, chika-chika-chika, like bathing
Young Hova, I know hittas like Yankees
Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy
Unloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover
Your body goes limp and slumps over
Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered
Hol' up, I said rover because now your Rover is red
Like Red Rover, so you know what I meant
But I rode over my opponents instead
Makin' dog sounds
'Cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down
I'll go slow for the speds
But when I go (Roof!) like the doberman said
I still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Haha)
Beast mode, mother****ers 'bout to get hit
With so many foul lines you think I'm a free throw
Figured it was about time for people to eat crow
You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned?
I stay on my toes like the repo,
A behemoth in sheep clothes
From the East Coast to the West,
I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T.
Who the best? I don't gotta say a ****in' thing though
'Cause MCs know
But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts
Your shit is ass like a tail bone
And you're trapped in your cell phone
I'ma chicken scratch, I'ma self-loathe
I don't want to ****in' listen to
You spit your rap someone else wrote
Used to get beat up by the big kids
Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel
And I wouldn't do shit but just sit still
Now money's not a big deal
I'm rich, I wipe my ass with six mil'
Big bills like a platypus
A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis
I'm lookin' for the smoke
'Cause you mother****ers are scatterin'
Batterin' everything
And I've had it with the inadequate man
I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin
And I'm bringin' the bandana
Back in the ****in' cabana again
The handkerchief
And I'm thinkin' of bringin' the ****in' fingerless gloves back
And not giving a singular ****, like **** rap
I sound like a ****in' millionaire
With the Darringer with a hair trigger
'Bout to bear hug your ****in' terrier to "Ric Flair Drip"
And y'all couldn't hold the candle at a prayer vigil
When I vent, they compare me to a ****in' air duct
I'm about to bare knuckle it, nah **** it
I'm gonna go upside the head with a Nantucket
Abraca-****in'-dabra
The track is the blood of my track that I'm attackin'
What Dracula? **** that shit
I'm up back for the-
Man. stop
Look what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin'
To do all this while ya panickin'
And you're lookin' and starin' at mannequins
And I'm going to Fanagans
Trying to get up a plan against
All of the blana-kazana-ka-fam-bam-bannigans
While of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana
You're in a cab—
I'm in a cabana and a Janet
I'm in a cabana chantin' all this stand up banter
While you don't got the stamina, ya lackin' the stamina
Ya lackin' the stamina while ya divorcin' Harrison Ford
And I'm in a Porsche and the floor boards
While I'm world tourin'
You using way too many napkins
Bapkins
Lapkins and Chapki-
You using ChapStick and napkins while I'm bapkin'
Flappin' around like a bapkin'
Flamminababbitapannitajampkin
Damnit my can of p-
作曲 : Sir Robert Bryson Hall II/Marshall Mathers/Luis Resto/Tim Schoegje/Jeremy Alexander Uribe/Dillan Beau Bailard/Donnell Stephens III
Son, you know why you the greatest alive?
Why, Dad?
Because you came out of my balls, nigga
Hahahahaha
**** rap
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
Who done had it,
And he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe,
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Leave a suicide note **** that
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
I'm comin' for your man
And his lady and even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika,
Slim Shady with rabies
I'm foamin' out the mouth,
Ain't nobody takin' me out
Every single rapper in the industry,
Yeah they know what I'm about
And I dare you to test me
'Cause not a single one of you mother****ers impress me
And maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration
But I'm full of innovation
And I'm tired of all of this high school
"He's cool, he's not" rap shit
Can a single one of you ****ers even rap? Shit
No, this ain't a diss to the game,
It's a gas to the flame
Nowadays, everybody sound the same, shit's lame
Like a moth to the flame, I'm a realer man, a killer
Know you feelin' it,
I sizzle when I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself
Yeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself
Mass murder like this can't be good for my health
When I rap like this, do I sound like shit?
Well, it don't really matter,
'Cause I'm killin' this shit
Yeah, I'm killin' this shit
Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'm killin' this shit
Bobby, how many time you been killin' this shit?
Find another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit
**** rap
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
Who done had it,
And he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe,
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Even suicide, no **** that
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady
There's nowhere to hide, we call this shit genocide
Hit 'em with that (Do-do-do) and they die
We gon' leave 'em crucified,
We call this shit genocide
I got bitches, I got hoes,
I got rare designer clothes
No, we ain't ****in' with that
Yeah, there's a time and a place
But if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps
Callin' yourself the greatest alive
Then you don't deserve to do that
No, no, oh no, no, please do not do that
You gon' get smacked
You gon' make Bobby attack
You gon' make Bobby Boy snap
You gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy!)
**** rap
Bustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic
Who done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back
Hold up, catch a vibe,
Ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive
Even suicide, no **** that
Bobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this
I'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby
I'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika
Chika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady
Jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z
Jig is up, you ****ers who didn't write anything
Are getting washed now, chika-chika-chika, like bathing
Young Hova, I know hittas like Yankees
Gun toters that pull triggers like crazy
Unloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover
Your body goes limp and slumps over
Like A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered
Hol' up, I said rover because now your Rover is red
Like Red Rover, so you know what I meant
But I rode over my opponents instead
Makin' dog sounds
'Cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down
I'll go slow for the speds
But when I go (Roof!) like the doberman said
I still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Haha)
Beast mode, mother****ers 'bout to get hit
With so many foul lines you think I'm a free throw
Figured it was about time for people to eat crow
You about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned?
I stay on my toes like the repo,
A behemoth in sheep clothes
From the East Coast to the West,
I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T.
Who the best? I don't gotta say a ****in' thing though
'Cause MCs know
But you don't wanna hear me spit the facts
Your shit is ass like a tail bone
And you're trapped in your cell phone
I'ma chicken scratch, I'ma self-loathe
I don't want to ****in' listen to
You spit your rap someone else wrote
Used to get beat up by the big kids
Used to let the big kids steal my big wheel
And I wouldn't do shit but just sit still
Now money's not a big deal
I'm rich, I wipe my ass with six mil'
Big bills like a platypus
A caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis
I'm lookin' for the smoke
'Cause you mother****ers are scatterin'
Batterin' everything
And I've had it with the inadequate man
I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin
And I'm bringin' the bandana
Back in the ****in' cabana again
The handkerchief
And I'm thinkin' of bringin' the ****in' fingerless gloves back
And not giving a singular ****, like **** rap
I sound like a ****in' millionaire
With the Darringer with a hair trigger
'Bout to bear hug your ****in' terrier to "Ric Flair Drip"
And y'all couldn't hold the candle at a prayer vigil
When I vent, they compare me to a ****in' air duct
I'm about to bare knuckle it, nah **** it
I'm gonna go upside the head with a Nantucket
Abraca-****in'-dabra
The track is the blood of my track that I'm attackin'
What Dracula? **** that shit
I'm up back for the-
Man. stop
Look what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin'
To do all this while ya panickin'
And you're lookin' and starin' at mannequins
And I'm going to Fanagans
Trying to get up a plan against
All of the blana-kazana-ka-fam-bam-bannigans
While of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana
You're in a cab—
I'm in a cabana and a Janet
I'm in a cabana chantin' all this stand up banter
While you don't got the stamina, ya lackin' the stamina
Ya lackin' the stamina while ya divorcin' Harrison Ford
And I'm in a Porsche and the floor boards
While I'm world tourin'
You using way too many napkins
Bapkins
Lapkins and Chapki-
You using ChapStick and napkins while I'm bapkin'
Flappin' around like a bapkin'
Flamminababbitapannitajampkin
Damnit my can of p-
