[Scratches: DJ Butter Fingers]
"Those that bluffed got stuffed in the basement"
"Those that bluffed got stuffed in the basement"
"Those that bluffed got stuffed in the basement"
[Verse 1: Eminem]
I don't got perfect eyesight
But I could spot your fake ass in the dark wearin' solid black
Makin' yourselves look pitiful makes us all look wack
So don't stand up there on me with those [sinner?] [pals?]
Tryna act vicious when your whole fuckin' image is factitious
I see you got a rare case of gangster limp
All that practicin' on your walk when you wouldn't step to a staircase
You must think I'm too gullible to notice that
Your personality's gettin' too colorful, I don't believe I'm actually seein' this crap
You better get your head checked
'Cause I don't see how a redneck could be into rap
You even picked up an accent, "I'm from the streets!"
Whatever the fuck that meant, so now we want that chocolate
I knew this life was artificial to begin with
So I stepped on him with my feet, but now they're covered in dog shit
So don't give me that "Boogie Woogie, I'm real" rap
A minute more, I know what you're in it for, what's your intent?
[Chorus: Eminem]
Are you in it for the profit? Does money in ya pocket
Mean more than respect? Or do ya play for sport
And that's all that's really important
Compete for competition comes before any check, tell me, what's your intent?
Are you lookin' at this as simply just a quick way to make a ducat
Or does your heart go in each tune?
I'm interested in your purpose 'cause this shit's becomin' a circus
And us jugglers need some elbow room
[Verse 2: Eminem]
Most independent companies are full of crap
Tryna get me to write a booty rap with a pop feel
But I wouldn't sell out for a Scooby Snack
Here's some hairspray, better make up a nickname
Yell enough to gain quick fame, and we'll get you airplay
But I ain't sellin' out, I could give a fuck less how much money
A label is willing to start shelling out, so here we are
We're all sitting in the basement getting overpatient
While these idiots are making shitty hits and are hitting gold
So the [?] events may look a hell of a lot easier than it really is
But they just wanna benefit from the glitter and glamorous wonderful world of rap
So they can make a track and live comfortable like Hammer is
With the more money, the more cost, so if you wanna be successful
You gotta have something special to stand out like a sore thumb
But don't say record sales make you dominant
Open up your mouth and talk like that again and I'll put a bomb in it, what's your intent?
[Chorus: Eminem]
Are you in it for the profit? Does money in ya pocket
Mean more than respect? Or do ya play for sport
And that's all that's really important
Compete for competition comes before any check, tell me, what's your intent?
Are you lookin' at this as simply just a quick way to make a ducat
Or does your heart go in each tune?
I'm interested in your purpose 'cause this shit's becomin' a circus
And us jugglers need some elbow room
[Scratches: DJ Butter Fingers]
"Then I got my own" "Yes"
"Then I got my own" "Yes"
"Then I got my own" "Yes"
"To be down, you must appeal"
[Verse 3: Eminem]
I'll probably live more than twice than
The average rappers lifespan, 'cause half of 'em are dyin' out
From growin' a bigger nose than Barbra Streisand
'Cause you ain't never seen hard times, if my experiences were visible
You'd see hard times to make you miserable
Reminiscing back to when I couldn't even afford to record a track
If I was robbed I'd have to fight to my death for my quarter back
My whole fuckin' life has been full of emptiness
So what makes a hollow heart think that I'm a [?] for now, 'cause I'm penniless
As long as I respect myself that's all that counts, so no secret
My wallet's all the money [borrow?] small amounts it's good enough
If I know that I set my standards, prominence doesn't come before
Priorities, the more at ease, I'm being [known, I speed 'em up?]
And I'll keep workin' until I get it perfect
Growin' up the concept that [are?] beyond death, [closed minds] [?] interpret
Any sentence proves that there is soul intent
Which means I stuck to my intentions, what's your intent?
[Chorus: Eminem]
Are you in it for the profit? Does money in ya pocket
Mean more than respect? Or do ya play for sport
And that's all that's really important
Compete for competition comes before any check, tell me, what's your intent?
Are you lookin' at this as simply just a quick way to make a ducat
Or does your heart go in each tune?
I'm interested in your purpose 'cause this shit's becomin' a circus
And us jugglers need some elbow room
