Coming with a ton of shit to spill, Slim Shady out, I get ill with the skill Baby, aight baby, Slim Shady Kick eighty million rhymes, till I'm older
a little town outside Savannah Where everybody talk that country grammar She said she killed a man down in Atlanta He beat her and he drank till he
the flock [15] - Who rides like me come wrapped that tightly L be's moving by the ton Packed up in tanks under the trunk, 59 to 77 Collecting my lot not
explore it, not ignore it, like Christopher C. MNP and Lars H., pioneers adrift at sea. And so we went ashore, knowing not what was in store, 'till
ton Travel's a curse But here we strive To lighten your purse Here the goose is cooked Here the fat is fried And nothing's overlooked Till I'm satisfied
ton Travel's a curse But here we strive To lighten your purse Here the goose is cooked Here the fat is friend And nothing's overlooked Till I'm satisfied
Jesus! Won't I skin you to the bone! Enter Monsieur, lay down your load Unlace your boots, rest from the road This weighs a ton, travel's a curse But
it in the club sound track to the hood theme music for the thug I told you I'm still in love baby beats drop heavy every rhyme one ton streets not
chicks licking me like an envelope yea I'm in her throat Crooked about to score I see the red zone All I need is beats by Dre but not the headphones Think
you want from long way back in time It's been disposable since eighty nine I never wanted this to end Good with transmission but too lazy to send Not
It was IBM It was Univac It was all those gears going Clickity clack, dear I thought automation was keen Till you were replaced by a ten-ton machine
like calories. Prophecy preacher, lend your ear and I'll reach ya. And if your willin to be taught imma teach ya. I'm not a people person, truth is I
livin' on the run Not some, each one's a bum, every one Coughed up a lung, became my son Flames I brung, platinumn weighs a ton Heavy on the chest,
I've been singing this song now for twenty five minutes. I could sing it for another twenty five minutes. I'm not proud... or tired. So we'll wait till
till the morning, Obie Know you got it going on, Obie I don't hear what the rumble clots say She say, I just want you in my arms, Obie Hold you till
of the 6 train Take my advice, at any price A gorilla like your mother is mighty weak Sucking down pints till I didn't know Woke up in the morning at the Won Ton
and trouble, funerals Trying to come up on six numerals Riding high in fly with a game with no rules Got a K cooked blues 'fore these fools Slinging coke by the ton
I'm not the average savage that curse queens I'm something from his worst dreams First we handling first things, I'm subsurface un-seen Grat'll hold planet by purse strings MC's are earthlings, not