Marshall Mathers

Album: Marshall Mathers LP (2000)
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  • You know, I just don't get it
    Last year I was nobody, this year I'm selling records
    Now everybody wants to come around
    Like I owe 'em something
    The fuck you want from me, ten million dollars?
    Fuck outta here

    You see, I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
    I'm just a regular guy
    I don't know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me)
    Nobody ever gave a fuck before
    All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me)
    Now everybody wanna run their mouth
    And try to take shots at me (take shots at me)

    Yo, you might see me joggin', you might see me walkin'
    You might see me walkin' a dead Rottweiler dog
    With its head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar
    Hollerin' at him 'cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin'
    Or leanin' out a window with a cocked shotgun
    Drivin' up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in
    Looking for Big's killers, dressin' ridiculous
    Blue and red, like I don't see what the big deal is
    Double barrel 12-gauge bigger than Chris Wallace
    Pissed off 'cause Biggie and 'Pac just missed all this
    Watchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em
    And get dollars that shoulda been theirs like they switched wallets
    And amidst all this Crist' poppin' and wrist watches
    I just sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
    And walk around with an empty bottle of Remy Martin
    Startin' shit like some twenty-six year-old skinny Cartman (goddamn it)
    An anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin
    Whose instinct's to kill N'Sync, don't get me started
    These fuckin' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage
    What's this bitch, retarded? Give me back my sixteen dollars
    All I see is sissies in magazines smilin'
    Whatever happened to whylin' out and being violent?
    Whatever happened to catchin'
    A good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin'
    And gettin' your shoes, coat and your hat tooken

    The New Kids on the Block sucked a lot of dick
    Boy/girl groups make me sick
    And I can't wait 'til I catch all you faggots in public
    I'ma love it

    Vanilla Ice don't like me (uh-uh)
    Said some shit in Vibe to spite me (yo)
    Then went and dyed his hair just like me (ha-ha)
    A bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me
    And run around screamin' "I don't care, just bite me" (na-na)
    I think I was put here to annoy the world
    And destroy your little four year-old boy or girl
    Plus I was put here to put fear
    In faggots who spray Faygo Root Beer
    And call themselves clowns 'cause they look queer
    Faggy 2 Dope and Silent Gay
    Claimin' Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away (fuckin' punks)
    And I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin' faggots the fuck out
    Ask 'em about the club they was at when they snuck out
    After they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out
    Ducked down and got paintballs shot at they truck, blaow
    Look at y'all runnin' your mouth again
    When you ain't seen a fuckin' mile road south of 10
    And I don't need help from D12 to beat up two females
    In make-up who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails
    Slim Anus? You damn right, slim anus
    I don't get fucked in mine like you two little flamin' faggots

    'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
    I'm not a wrestler guy
    I'll knock you out if you talk about me (you talk about me)
    Come and see me on the streets alone
    If you assholes doubt me (assholes doubt me)
    And if you wanna run your mouth
    Then come take your best shot at me (best shot at me)

    Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?
    You little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy
    Now because of this blonde mop that's on top
    Of this fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop?
    The underground just spunned around and did a 360
    Now these kids diss me and act like some big sissies
    "Oh, he just did some shit with Missy
    So now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with MC Get Bizzy"
    My fuckin' bitch mom's suin' for ten million
    She must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin'
    Shit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?
    All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress
    Which is it, bitch, Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?
    It doesn't matter, your attorney Fred Gibson's a faggot
    Talkin' about I fabricated my past
    He's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass
    So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?
    For every million I make, another relative sues
    Family fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper
    All of a sudden I got ninety-some cousins (hey, it's me)
    A half-brother and sister who never seen me
    Or even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV
    Now everybody's so happy and proud
    I'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house (hey)
    And then to top it off I walked to the news stand
    To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp
    Skipped to the last page, flipped right fast
    And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass
    Okay, let me give you motherfuckers some help
    Um, here, "XXL, XXL"
    Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell
    Aww, fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself

    'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
    I'm just a regular guy
    I don't know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me)
    Nobody ever gave a fuck before
    All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me)
    Now everybody wanna run their mouth
    And try to take shots at me (take shots at me)

    'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
    I'm just a regular guy
    I don't know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me)
    Nobody ever gave a fuck before
    All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me)
    Now everybody wanna run their mouth
    And try to take shots at me (take shots at me) Writer/s: Jeff Bass, Mark Bass, Marshall Mathers
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

Comments: 6

  • Josh Was The Day from UsaTyfa how is he spitting the truth when the lyric about NKOTB is literally out of order
  • The Nuschler from Cali I don’t think it is “your attorney Fred isn’t a fa--ot.” I heard it was “my f--ken stepdad is a fa--ot.” And he had to take out because he was going to sue over it.
  • Michael from Deridder, LaOh yeah, and P.S.: you don't know HOW BAD i can relate to this moral in the song....*shudder*
  • Michael from Deridder, LaThis song really brings out the damnation of publicity that Eminem's gone through in his life, and he's wishing that the same thing happens to all his overzealous critics, music-writing rivals, and insane wanna-be-like-him young fans so they'll realize that being a rapper isn't the best thing in the world.

    (P.S. His full name is Marshall Bruce Mathers III)
  • Tyfa from North, United Kingdomeminem makes sense cos he spits the truth :-D
  • Landon from Winchester, OhI listen to both Eminem and Insane Clown Possee, but Eminem is better by a landslide. At least Marshall Mathers lyrics actually make sense.
see more comments

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