The Black Slim Shady
by Game

Album: Drillmatic – Mind vs. Heart (2022)
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  • Hey, grandma
    Yeah, I'm still out here makin' my Uber runs
    I'll be home soon
    I just got one more pick up, kinda close to 8 Mile
    Okay, okay, love you too

    G-G-G-G, Shady (G-G)
    Shady Aftermath (Yeah)
    Me and Hit-Boy back on our shit, let's go
    Yeah (G-G)

    I don't think they know who they fuckin' with
    Pull that truck around, niggas is duckin' clips
    Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady
    I unpack the heat with my oven mitts
    I tip-toe around in my Chucks and shit
    Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady

    It's Game, sick in the brain
    Sick as the day that I came
    Hennessy runnin' through my veins, I load up the clip and aim
    Sick of you niggas talkin' like you won't get wet in the rain
    Now I'm singin' Frank Ocean, and you get hit with this Novacane
    Sick and tired of niggas, bitches, and critics, they all the same
    Lame games they playin', lyin', tryin' me for my name
    I stick my dick in your podcast
    Shallow bitch on the show, just to lick the tip it's ridiculous, she watchin' it grow
    Cross eyed-ed, crosshairs on my enemies
    If you cross the street, you run into me, you crash in to a light bolt
    Now you crawlin' out the driver side like a centipede
    And me, I'm finna be on a jet to the Phillipines
    Spill the beans, kick the Kool-Aid, overtell, God don't intervene
    While I'm smashin' Saweetie pussy to smithereens
    It's the G-A-ficky-ficky-M, paint my face, I'm him
    Puttin' this big black dick in your skims

    I don't think they know who they fuckin' with
    Pull that truck around, niggas is duckin' clips
    Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady
    I unpack the heat with my oven mitts
    I tip-toe around in my Chucks and shit
    Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady

    I killed Dr. Dre in my basement last night
    I was wasted last night, I went ape shit last night
    Chopped his body up, and forget where I placed it last night
    Had a slice of humble pie, I couldn't taste it last night (Hahaha)
    Lost my taste and my smell, I got Omarion
    Me and Dr. Fauci went to Crazy Girls and then we got our party on
    So fee-fi-fum, I'm with 40 goin' dumb
    Not E-40, the other 40, I'm with Canadians in Drake's house
    (Havin' a stakeout)
    And I'm so tired of orderin' takeout, what's beef?
    Beef is when you tell the chef to bring them steaks out
    So let's play house with the Dracos and the AR
    Stay the fuck up off of Stanley grass and take a shit in they yard
    And my dick stay hard, when I see Lizzo on the internet
    (Here it is another BBL)
    And my dick get little on the internet
    My intellect is NFT's and Cryptos, I can never be a Crip though
    I tip-toe with my red rag around six O's

    Chuck?
    Yeah
    Hey, man, let's get you out the rain
    Good lookin', how's your night goin', bro?
    I'm cool, man, you don't need that mask
    Nobody cares about that shit anymore
    You got a charger up there with you?
    Yeah, for sure, it reaches all the way back there too
    Good lookin', homie
    Ayo, I really fuck with that starter cap, that shit hard as fuck
    Crazy story behind it, my brother Stan, rest in peace
    What?
    He gave me this hat twenty-two years ago
    Damn
    It's my favorite
    Can I see that shit for a minute?
    Uh, yeah, sure
    Oh, shit, this motherfucker autographed and everything
    Who signed it for you?
    Eminem
    He used to be like this rap God
    Man, me and my brother praised him
    Back when I was little, I don't really like any of his new stuff
    Woah, wait, I know where we're goin', wait, why do you have a gu—?
    Yo, shut the fuck up
    Ayy, man, I'm drivin', I'll get you there wait
    I'll take you, I'm a fan, that's cool
    Stop lookin' back, stop lookin' back here
    It's cool dude, man, you don't need to do this
    Focus on the fuckin' road
    Okay
    Yo, come on, man
    Alright
    Drive
    Alright, alright
    Drive
    We'll go, we'll go
    Shut the fuck up
    Alright

    Ask Dre
    All I got is my word, my dick and my MAC 10
    One thing you can never have is my motherfuckin' Black... skin
    This ain't no suit that I wore
    This ain't a mansion, a hangin' plaque, this ain't no stupid award
    So, oh, he goes platinum
    And, oh, I'm on the 'Math with him
    He got all the Blackest friends
    He wants to be African, me
    Left for dead on the Doctor's Advocate
    Dre never executive-produced it, I just imagined it
    Oh, here goes the magic tricks
    Candy shops and the magic stick
    DeAngelo Bailey got in shape to whoop your ass again
    You depressed, you just maskin' it
    You pop a Adderall, a Vicodin, and a Aspirin
    But the math wasn't mathin' in
    So pass me the torch 'cause the torture in my mind
    With the voice that defied rhymes will force the blind eye
    To see that I was in the white Rolls Royce with five .9's
    When you was pretendin' to be the white Royce da 5'9"
    I just crossed a fine line
    Might just force the white guy to call D12 so he can be the pork they grind, swine
    And the biggest rapper in Detroit, that award is Sean Don
    So uncork the Chardonnay and stick my fork in white wine
    I never heard you in a club, I never heard you in a bar
    Eleven albums and ten never got played inside of my car
    I'd rather listen to Snitch9ine like sixty-nine times
    And participate in sixty-nines with sixty-nine nuns than listen to you
    You're a Karen, call the cops, tell 'em it's a Black man on your block
    With a Glock and he got it cocked
    And the tattoos on his face is a star and a teardrop
    He standin' on a teal drop and he says he can feel Pac in the air
    Like Phil Collins, listen to him, he still wildin'
    (Ah, Epstein chased me around Epstein island)
    So silence, I'm—, I'm thinkin', uh, mm, yeah
    Nothin' rhymes with orange!
    So ficky-ficky Slim Shady, please, stand up
    Shoot the fade with me, I'd love to put these hands up
    I could .40 Glock you, unarmed
    Drop the world on your head with one arm
    Dear Slim, Hailie's with me and she's unharmed for now (Dad, I'm really scared)
    These are the deepest secrets, I keep and I be on defence
    'Cause G's ain't supposed to fold up
    With all the facades I hold up inside of my mind, I froze up
    I'm cold as COVID, Ebola, the Spanish flu, and Corona
    The Zika virus, pneumonia is deep inside my persona
    On each side of my shoulders is demons chasin' Jehovah
    The renegade or the soldier, I really gave it to Hova (How it feel?)
    Twenty-three years, still ain't penetratin' the culture
    You are not, top five, in mine, B.I.G or Pac eyes
    No André, no Nas, stop tellin' white lies
    Sniff a white line, this the right time
    I Suge Knight Vanilla Ice, I'm not Mr. Nice Guy

    I'm crazy (I'm crazy, I'm crazy)
    I'm crazy (I'm crazy, I'm crazy)
    I'm not Mr. Nice Guy
    I'm crazy (I'm crazy, I'm crazy)
    Dre know
    I'm crazy (I'm crazy, I'm crazy)
    Way to fuckin' go

    You done pissed off Jimmy, Universal, and Interscope
    Know, I got Jimmy, Slim, 50, and Universal in a scope
    ('Cause I'm shady) Shadier than him
    (I'm crazy) Crazier than Kim
    So when the Bat signal goes up in the clouds above the buildings
    I hope you live long enough to see heroes turn into villains
    Oh, you think I'm a Joker? Well, riddle me this
    You love your mother?
    Well, I'm cleanin' out your closet for you and your half-brother
    And I told you when I was in Detroit, I wanna go to 8 Mile
    'Cause when I was little to get some M&M's, I had to walk eight miles
    But you wouldn't leave the studio, your life is on loop
    That's why I'm doggy in style, 'cause niggas rather bump Snoop
    And I'm a lyrical .50 cal
    Leave his brain all thin, wind, the games all endin'
    The chainsaw, vrin, vrin
    Hello? Hello?
    Pagin' Dr. Dre?
    He ain't got a lot to say
    But since Curtis always do, let him write the rhymes for you
    Tell him to clip the wings on my butterfly tatt' and force 'em back in the cocoon
    Now does he still rap or did he have a change of heart too?
    The chick on the show wasn't pickin' me and Mariah wasn't pickin' you
    So the cannons is blam-blammin' and if it jam then I unjam it
    And wipe down my stripper pole with the hair grease from your bandana
    You wish you was Santana or Cam in them 10 J's
    Durag for ten years and never had one wave
    And I was that runaway slave, that they buried in that one grave
    And some say he would back to haunt Slim Shady one day
    Now I'm here, hope you ready, this is not mom's spaghetti
    This your dad was twenty-two when he ate lil' Debbie
    He takes the cake
    'Cause she was only fifteen, so how could one not sympathize with her havin' you as a teen?
    She had to lose herself in the moment, give up her dreams
    Just to see her son out here lookin' like a wigger in jeans (Yeah)
    Little Marshall Mathers
    Mad 'cause nobody thinks that little Marshall matters
    That sentiment's hard to gather
    Let's get this shit all together, the picture was ripped, I fixed it
    But none with me, you, and 50, let's stitch this shit all together
    You like it, Slim?
    I made it just for you
    I even kidnapped Stan's brother and baited him here for you
    But you would just say, "No"
    Probably leave us in the blistering cold
    God made you damn near perfect, he just missed your soul
    You ain't the shell of who you used to be
    And after you, it's me, on the Uzi spree like it's two of me
    And Matthew's dead now, it's just you and me
    The sweatpants, the dad hat, durag and no jewelry
    Umm, is that cultural appropriation
    Ask Paul if it's even appropriate for me to make that statement, rude of me
    How your day went?
    Did you re-dye your beard or get another face lift or do shrooms in your mom's basement
    Until you nod and see spaceships
    And the aliens inside it come and tell you your talent's wasted
    Then you wake up and you ain't shit
    I know you fiendin' for a Dr. Dre bass hit
    How ironic, an addict in a basement
    And now I chronic, 'cause I done had it with the fake shit
    You never understood ebonics or a cadence
    I press everything like a weight bench
    And every time the plate hits, you off another playlist
    Sorry, it ain't workin' out
    Niggas shootin', Billy Blanks (It's my winner's speech)
    While I'm here, I should really thank MGK, UGK, Tech N9ne, Uzi spray
    My other twelve personalities wasn't really in the mood today
    Hi, kids, here's somethin' funny, let's all say, "Nigga" once
    Crashed the car, hit and run
    Jumped out, hid the gun
    Your fans want a rap god, well, fuck it, I'ma give 'em one
    I came to put Slim in a box but he already live in one

    Mr. Shady, don't be shady
    Pick that pen up, don't be lazy
    Call up Dre and get that Dre beat
    Jump off stage if shit get crazy
    Mr. Shady, don't be shady
    Pick that pen up, don't be lazy
    Call up Dre and get that Dre beat
    Jump off stage if shit get crazy Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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