[Interlude 1: Uber Driver] 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
[Intro: The Game] G-G-G-G, Shady (G-G) Shady Aftermath (Yeah) Me and Hit-Boy back on our shit, let's go Yeah (G-G)
[Chorus: The Game] 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
[Verse 1: The Game] 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
[Chorus: The Game] 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
[Verse 2: The Game] 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
[Interlude 2: Uber Driver & The Game] 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
[Verse 3: The Game] 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
[Bridge: The Game] 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
[Verse 4: The Game] 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
[Outro: The Game] 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 crazyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
