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Eminem truly is in a league of his own


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Verse 2: Eminem]
Yeah
Sometimes I wonder really what did my closed head injury do
I'm literally missin' a screw, but it seems like my memory's too vivid to forget the shit I been through (Yeah)
So as my residuals grew, I remember those kids that were cruel
Same individuals at Elizabeth Little
And I essentially used them as the fuel
Who would've knew what a pencil could do, those so mentally screwed
They said "Marshall, you're either gonna wind up dead or in a penitentiary
'Cause eventually you'll end up clinchin' a tool
And come back 'vengefully to shoot them bullies who clowned you in elementary school"
Yeah, my head, something's wrong with it (Yeah)
But that makes me me, I'm different (Yup)
That lyrical phenom misfit
Since I was a bleach blonde who hear the beat hung
This bitch makes me only think of demonic shit
I was knockin' on death's door, I fucking ding-dong ditched it
Yeah, and I don't do that sing-song bitch shit
And I don't use autotune, all I do is spit, and this shit just bothers you
Call it quits bitch, impossible
My pen just popped your thought-balloon
You dipshits know how I'ma do is
Send a motherfucking beat to the trauma-unit
Yeah, Shady Records
Look at all these squad killers we brought with us
Juggernauts and godzillas, you don't rock with us you're off of your rockers
Bitch, back to the wall
Is it always, is why I'm not talkin' about wallets and knots
When I say that the wall it is not against
It's more like the cross
Look at how far this is past you
Regardless you want me to reach a fuckin' bar that does not exist
No pun intended, but GRIP, hold on to this moment
'Cause soon as you reach the top, they gon' want you to fall from it
So you better grab your seatbelt
Like I did mine, and fasten yours
Like a motherfucking plane-crash passenger
'Cause one day you'll be crashing back to earth
And if you don't ever stop to smell the roses
I do know one thing, that's for sure
You don't get your flowers 'til you pushin' up daisies
And that's about all your ashes earn

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So as my residuals grew, I remember those kids that were cruel
Same individuals at Elizabeth Little
And I essentially used them as the fuel
Who would've knew what a pencil could do, those so mentally screwed
They said "Marshall, you're either gonna wind up dead or in a penitentiary
'Cause eventually you'll end up clinchin' a tool
And come back 'vengefully to shoot them bullies who clowned you in elementary school"

 

 

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