Lyrics
I can almost taste it This shit makes no sense to me What does it all mean? I can almost taste it I can almost see it This shit makes no sense to me What does it all mean? I can almost taste it Yeah, can't stop now This may be the last chance I get To be famous! You dream of trading places Oh-oh, I have been changing faces Oh-oh, you cannot fill these shoes Oh-oh, there is too much to lose Oh-oh-oh-oh, wake up behind these trenches Oh-oh, you run around defenceless Oh-oh, there is too much to lose Oh-oh, you cannot fill these shoes I just wanna be famous But Be careful what you wish for! I stuck my dick in this game like a rapist They call me Slim Roethlisberger I go berzerker than a fed up post office worker A merk her with a Mossberg I'm pissed off get murdered Like someone took a ketchup squirter Squirted a frankfurter For a gangster you sure did shit your pants When you saw the chainsaw get to waving Like a terrible towel How thangs turn around When his fangs come out Get your brains blown out That's what I call blowing your mind When I come back Like nut on your spine I'm a thumb tack That you slept on son Now here I come screaming "Attack!" like I just stepped on one Low on the totem till he showed 'em Defiance, giant scrotum He don't owe them bitches shit His britches, he out grow'd em He's so out cold he's knocked out at the South Pole And nobody fucks with him Rigor mortis and post mortem He's dying of boredom Take your best rhymes, record 'em Then try to thwart him He'll just take your punch lines and snort 'em Shit stained drawers You gon fuck with a guy who licks the blades of his chainsaws While he dips 'em in P.F. Chang's sauce Game's up, homie, hang it up like some crank calls You think I'm backing down you must be out of your dang skulls I'm almost famous! You dream of trading places Oh-oh, I have been changing faces Oh-oh, you cannot fill these shoes Oh-oh, there is too much to lose Oh-oh-oh-oh, wake up behind these trenches Oh-oh, you run around defenceless Oh-oh, there is too much to lose Oh-oh, you cannot fill these shoes I just wanna be famous But Be careful of what you wish for! I'm back for revenge I lost a battle that ain't happening again I'm at your throat like strep I step, strapped with a pen Metaphors wrote on my hand Some are just stored in my memory Some I wrote on a napkin I do what I have to to win Pulling out all stops, any who touch a mic prior's Not even Austin Powers, how the fuck are they Mike Meyers? And tell that psycho to pass the torch To the wacko before I take a shit in his Jack-O-Lantern And smash it on his porch Now get off my dick Dick's too short of a word for my dick Get off my antidisestablishmentarianism, you prick Don't call me the champ; call me the space shuttle destroyer I just blew up the Challenger, matter fact I need a lawyer I just laced my gloves with enough plaster to make a cast Beat his ass naked and peed in his corner Like Verne Troyer Y'all are Eminem backwards, you're Mini Me's See he's in a whole nother weight class He's slugs; you're BBs, you're bean-bag bullets You're full of it; you were dissing in his CD's Laughed at Infinite, now he's back like someone pissed in his Wheaties No peace treaties, he's turned into a beast His new Slim Shady EP's got the attention of the mighty D.R.E. He's almost famous! You dream of trading places Oh-oh, I have been changing faces Oh-oh, you cannot fill these shoes Oh-oh, there is too much to lose Oh-oh-oh-oh, wake up behind these trenches Oh-oh, you run around defenceless Oh-oh, there is too much to lose Oh-oh, you cannot fill these shoes I just wanna be famous But Be careful of what you wish for! Now there he goes in Dre's studio cupping his balls Screaming the wood off the paneling And cussing the paint off the walls Spewing his hate to these haters, showing no love for these broads He ain't given them shit, he says he'll pinch a penny so hard He'll leave a bruise on the bronze so dark you can see the mark With the scars, till Abraham Lincoln is screaming out "Aah!" These metaphors and similes ain't similar to them, not at all If they don't like it, they can all get fucked instead of sucking him off They can go get a belt or a neck tie, to hang themselves by Like David Carradine they can go fuck themselves and just die And eat shit while they at it He's fucking had it, he's mad at the whole world So go to hell and build a snowman, girl The bullies become bullied, and pussies get pushed Then they better pull me, take me back to 9th grade to school me Cause I ain't looking back, only forward, this whole spot blowing Who could've known he'd grow to be a poet and not know it And while I'm being poetic let me get it stoic and raise the bar Higher than my opinion of these women's been lowered So bear witness to some biblical shit There's a cold wind blowing this world ain't gonna know what hit it He did it He made it He's finally famous!
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