[Chorus: Paul Simon]
"The problem is all inside your head," she said to me
"The answer is easy if you take it logically
I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"
[Verse 1: Eminem]
You're probably gonna think that I'm talkin' about you
And you're, goddamn, right, I am
Look at you: this is the minimal I could diss you
Subliminally, but I think criminal instinct
Has pushed me to the brink, "My pussy, does it stink?
He still loves me, 'cause he puts me in his ink
He does, doesn't he? Still is, isn't he?
Now I'm just playin' tug of war with his heart, 'cause he misses me
I can still fuck him and leave him whenever I feel frisky
And there's no risk of disease, 'cause he ain't with anyone, is he?"
This bitch really thinks she can get me
If she still wants me, drivin' across country
Strapped up to the front seat, missin' all her front teeth
Thinkin' to herself, "When's the next time he's gonna punch me?"
I told this cunt she's gonna overdo it once
And once she does, she'll be stuffed up in a trunk, crunchy
Scrunched up in a ball, bunched up nice and comfy
Fuck around, get dumped up in a lake 'fore you dump me
You cunning little cunt, deceitful witch
You thought you had me, 'til my shrink told me this:
[Chorus: Paul Simon]
"The problem is all inside your head," she said to me
"The answer is easy if you take it logically
I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"
[Verse 2: Eminem]
I feel like a serial killer, I keep dumpin' bodies in the lake
I'ma get caught and sent up the river
I shiver when I think of the company I keep
How do I know she ain't gonna kill me when I sleep?
I shriek every time she hands me something to drink
Sex kept us together, when we slept together, everything
Was all better, she made me feel like a king
Slowly she began lowering my self-esteem
She'd go to the club and not answer the phone when I call her
And I just bought her a truck for fifty thousand dollars
Accuse me of doin' drugs and scream and holla
Then I find a bag of coke on her, some marijuana
And all I know is every time I go
To them hidin' spots wherever she hides her blow
Them little bags of dope, there was a pile of coke
That's growin' smaller, and that was just a while ago
And I wouldn't even let on like I know
What was I supposed to do, call her out on it? We'd just argue
Say she put it there on purpose and flip the whole script
Ooh, she's a manipulative evil bitch!
A cunnin' little cunt, little deceitful witch
She thought she had me, 'til my shrink told me this:
[Chorus: Paul Simon]
"The problem is all inside your head," she said to me
"The answer is easy if you take it logically
I'd like to help you in your struggle to be free
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"
She said, "It's really not my habit to intrude
Furthermore, I hope my meaning won't be lost or misconstrued
But I'll repeat myself at the risk of being crude
There must be fifty ways to leave your lover"
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