Marshall Mathers
Album: The Marshall Mathers LP
Release Date: 5/23/00
Label: Interscope Records
Explicit version of "Marshall Mathers" lyrics
You know I just don't get it
This year I'm sellin' records
Now everybody wants to come around like I owe 'em somethin'
The f*** you want from me? Ten million dollars
Get the f*** out of here
You see I'm
I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a f*** before
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and try to take shots at me
Yo
You might see me walkin' a dead rottweiler dog
With it's head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar
Hollerin' at him 'cause the son of a b**** won't quit barkin'
Or leanin' out a window
Drivin' up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in
Lookin' for Big's killers
Blue and red like I don't see what the big deal is
Double barrel twelve gauge bigger than Chris Wallace
Pissed off
Watchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em
And get dollars that shoulda been there's like they switched wallets
And amidst all this Crist poppin' and wristwatches
I had to sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
And walk around with an empty bottle of Remi Martin
Startin' s*** like some twenty six year old skinny Cartman
I'm anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin
With instincts to kill N'Sync
These f*****' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage
What's this b**** retarded? Gimme back my sixteen dollars
All I see is sissies in magazines smiling
Whatever happened to whylin' out and bein' violent?
Whatever happened to catchin' a good-ol' fashioned
Passionate ass-whoopin' and gettin' your shoes coat and your hat tooken?
New kids on the block
Boy-girl groups make me sick
And I can't wait 'til I catch all you fagots in public
I'ma love it
Vanilla Ice don't like me
Then went and dyed his hair just like me
A bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me
And run around screamin'
I think I was put here to annoy the world
And destroy your little 4 year old boy or girl
Plus I was put here to put fear in fagots who spray Faygo Root Beer
And call themselves clowns 'cause they look queer
Fagot to dope and silent gay
Claimin' Detroit
And I don't wrestle
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 paint balls shot at they truck
Look at y'all runnin' your mouth again
When you ain't seen a f*****' mile road
And I don't need help
In make-up
Slim anus you damn right
I don't get f***** in mine like you two little flaming fagots
'Coz I'm
I'm not a wrestler guy I'll knock you out if you talk about me
Come and see me on the streets alone
And if you wanna run your mouth then come take your best shot at me
Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?
You little groupie b****
Now because of this blonde mop that's on top
It is f***** up head that I've got
The underground just spunned around and did a 360
Now these kids diss me and act like some big sissies
Oh
So now he thinks he's too big to do some s*** with MC get bizzy
My f*****' b**** mom's suin' for ten million
She must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin'
S***
All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress
Which is it b****
It doesn't matter your
Talkin' about I fabricated my past
He's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass
So tell me
For every million I make
Family fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper
All the sudden
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
And then to top it off
To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp
Skipped to the last page
And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass
Okay
Here
Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell
F*** it
'Coz I'm
I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a f*** before
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and try to take shots at me
'Coz I'm
I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a f*** before
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and try to take shots at me
© 8 MILE STYLE MUSIC