Correction Paroles Just Don’t Give A Fuck (Live From Tramps, New York / 1999) par Eminem

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Paroles

Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady
I'm a M-80, you little like that Kim lady
I'm buzzin', Dirty Dozen, naughty rotten rhymer
Cursin' at you players worse than Marty Schottenheimer
You wacker than the motherf**ker you bit yo' style from
You ain't gon' sell two copies if you press a double album
Admit it, f**k it, while we comin' out in the open
I'm doin' acid, crack, smack, coke, and smokin' dope then
My name is Marshall Mathers, I'm an alcoholic (Hi, Marshall)
I have a disease and they don't know what to call it
Better hide your wallet 'cause I'm comin' up quick to strip yo' cash
Bought a ticket to yo' concert just to come and whip yo' a**
B*t*h, I'm comin' out swingin' so fast it'll make yo' eyes spin
You gettin' knocked the f**k out like Mike Tyson (Pssh)
The proof is in the puddin', just ask DeShaun Holton
I'll slit yo' motherf**kin' throat worse than Ron Goldman

So when you see me on yo' block with two Glocks
Screamin', "F**k the world" like 2Pac (I just don't give a f**k)
Talkin' that sh*t behind my back, dirty mackin'
Tellin' your boys that I'm on crack (I just don't give a f**k)
So put my tape back on the rack, go run and tell your friends
My sh*t is wack (I just don't give a f**k)
But see me on the street and duck
'Cause you gon' get stuck, stoned, and snuffed
('Cause I just don't give a f**k)
I'm nicer than Pete, but I'm on a search to crush a milkbone
I'm everlastin', I melt vanilla ice like silicone
I'm ill enough to just straight up diss you for no reason
I'm colder than snow season when it's 20 below freezin'
Flavor with no seasoning, this is the sneak preview
I'll diss yo' magazine and still won't get a weak review
I'll make yo' freak leave you, smell the Folgers crystals
This is lyrical combat, gentlemen, hold your pistols
But I form like Voltron and blast you with my shoulder missiles
Slim Shady, M&M was the old initials (Bye-bye)
Extortion, snortin', supportin' abortion
Pathological liar, blowin' sh*t outta proportion
The looniest, zaniest, spontaneous, sporadic
Impulsive thinker, compulsive drinker, addict
Half animal, half man
Dumpin' yo' dead body inside of a f**kin' trash can
With more holes than an afghan

So when you see me on yo' block with two Glocks
Screamin', "F**k the world" like 2Pac (I just don't give a f**k)
Talkin' that sh*t behind my back, dirty mackin'
Tellin' your boys that I'm on crack (I just don't give a f**k)
So put my tape back on the rack, go run and tell your friends
My sh*t is wack (I just don't give a f**k)
But see me on the street and duck
'Cause you finna get stuck, stoned, and snuffed
('Cause I just don't give a f**k)
Somebody let me out this limousine (Hey, let me out)
I'm a caged demon
On stage screamin' like Rage Against the Machine
I'm convinced I'm a fiend
Shootin' up while this record is spinnin'
Clinically brain-dead, I don't need a second opinion
F**k droppin' a jewel, I'm flippin' a sacred treasure
I'll bite yo' motherf**kin' style just to make it fresher
I can't take the pressure, I'm sick of b*t*hes
Sick of naggin' bosses b*t*hin' while I'm washin' dishes
In school, I never said much, too busy havin' a head rush
Doin' too much rush, had my face flushed like red blush
Then I went to Jim Beam, that's when my face grayed
Went to gym in eighth grade, ***** the women's swim team
Don't take me for a joke, I'm no comedian
Too many mental problems got me snortin' coke and smokin' weed again
I'm goin' up over the curb, drivin' on the median
Finally made it home but I don't got the key to get in

So when you see me on yo' block with two Glocks
Screamin', "F**k the world" like 2Pac (I just don't give a f**k)
Talkin' that sh*t behind my back, dirty mackin'

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