[Eminem] Ayo, this next song is a true story (Come here, bitch)
[Intro] Cause some things in this universe Don’t make sense but somehow (Always seem to fucking work)
[Verse 1: Eminem] Driving down I-75 about to hop on 696 I look over this fucking chick’s trying to fix her makeup I’m like bitch, you ain’t a plastic surgeon I advise ya to put up your visor, I’m getting kinda ticked You’re blocking my side mirror, she’s like yeah, so? I’m like so? You gonna need a stitch you keep acting like that, ho I look like your husband slut? That’s a rhetorical question You talk to me like you talk to him, I’ll fuck you up In fact, get in the backseat, like the rest of my dates No bitch rides shotgun, what taxi? Stop and pick you some Maxi Pads up is that what you actually ask me? Bitch reaches over and smacks me And says I annoy the fuck outta her, get in the fucking back Put on your slut powder, you slut, what? Shut the fuck up now Or get your feelings hurt, worse than my last chick when I accidentally butt dialed her topnotchhiphop She heard me spreading AIDS rumors about her Turn the radio up louder, make it thump While I bump that Relapse CD, trying to hit every bump in that cunt Thought I snap back in that accent cause she kept asking me To quit calling her cunt, I said I cunt, she said, Marshall
[Hook: Eminem] You ain’t really like that, oh You’re putting on a show, where’s your mic at? Cause you’re breaking my heart She said you’re breaking my heart
[Verse 2: Royce] Uh, pull up to the club in a Porsche, not a Pinto While Marshall’s at a white trash party, I’m at drama central I walk up in there looking at my phone, on Twitter tweeting I’m feeling a bunch of bitches looking at a nigga, cheesing I get approached by this little skeeser She asked me am I the realest G, cause I’m Gucci from head to feet I said, yeah, I’m really is cause I spit in your man’s face Like Cam did that kid on Killa Season She said I’m feeling your big ego, wait, am I talking wrong? I said nah, I’m a walking Kanye/Beyonce song She said I’m mad at you, I said why? She said why you never make songs for chicks as if it’s hard to do? I said I make songs for me, leave the studio And go and fuck the bitch who belong to who making songs for you She said I’m feeling your whole swagger and flow, can we hook up? I said, umm, you just used the word swagger, so no, she said
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Eminem] We been riding around in this hatchback until I’m fucking hunchback Where the fuck’s this party at slutbag cunt? Cut what act? Think it’s an act? Fuck that, I’m trying to shag scuz Better find this love shack or somewhere to fuck at, ah, don’t touch that You fat dyke, I’m trying to hear some Bagpipes from Baghdad Don’t act like you don’t like them, them accents, I rap tight And I’m a torture until we find this place, yeah that’s right Thought it was just past this light, past Van Dyke Better hit that map right, read them directions, oh yeah You can’t read and you can’t write, told me that last night She took my CD out the deck, snapped in half like Relapse sucked, I snapped, hit the gas like Blew through the light, spun out, hit a patch of black ice Forgot we had a trailer hitch to the back, we jackknifed Bitch flew out of the car, I laughed like, she deserved it She didn’t think I’d act like that in person (Royce, Marshall just crashed right in front of the club)
[Verse 4: Royce] Tell him I’ll be there in a minute I’m trying to break up this cat fight between my mistress and damn wife Then a chick wanted a hug, she was fat So I gave her dap, then I tell her to scat, I’m not mean, I’m cute On my way to the front door, taking the scenic route To avoid this chick with a lace front looking like Venus’s and S