Eminem - The Ringer

Текст песни: [Intro:] Yeah, yo, I'm just gonna write down my first thoughts See where this takes me, 'cause I feel like I wanna punch the world in the fuckin' face right now, yeah! [Verse:] Let me explain just how to make greatness Straight out the gate, I'm 'bout to break you down Ain't no mistakes allowed, but make no mistake, I'm 'bout To rape the alphabet, I may raise some brows If I press the issue just to get the anger out (brrr) Full magazine could take Staples out Savage but ain't thinkin' 'bout no bank account But bitch, I'm off the chain like Kala Brown Motherfucker, shut the fuck up when I'm talkin', lil' bitch I'm sorry, wait, what's your talent? Oh, critiquin' My talent? Oh, bitch, I don't know who the fuck y'all are To give a sub-par bar, even have an opinion of you You mention me, millions of views, attention in news I mention you, lose-lose for me, win-win for you Billions of views, your ten cents are two Skim through the music to give shit reviews To get clicks, but bitch, you just lit the fuse Don't get misconstrued, business as us' Shit-list renewed, so get shit to do Or get dissed, 'cause I just don't get What the fuck half the shit is that you're listenin' to Do you have any idea how much I hate this choppy flow Everyone copies though? Probably no Get this fuckin' audio out my Audi yo, adiós I can see why people like Lil Yachty, but not me though Not even dissin', it just ain't for me All I am simply is just an MC Maybe "Stan" just isn't your cup of tea Maybe your cup's full of syrup and lean Maybe I need to stir up shit, preferably Shake the world up if it were up to me Paul wants me to chill, y'all want me to ill I should eat a pill, probably I will Old me kill the new me, watch him bleed to death I breathe on the mirror, I don't see my breath Possibly I'm dead, I must be possessed Like an evil spell, I'm E-V-I-L (evil, spelled) Jam a Crest Whitestrip in the tip of my dick With an ice pick, stick it in a vice grip Hang it on a spike fence, bang it with a pipe wrench While I take my ballsack and flick it like a light switch Like vice-president Mike Pence Back up on my shit in a sidekick as I lay it on a spike strip These are things that I'd rather do than hear you on a mic Since nine tenths of your rhyme is about ice and Jesus Christ, man, how many times is Someone gonna fuck on my bitch? (Fuck my side chick!) You won't ever see Em icy But as cold as I get on the M-I-C I polarize shit, so the Thames might freeze And your skull might split like I passed you upside it Bitch, I got the club on smash like a nightstick (yeah) Turn down for what? I ain't loud enough, nah, turn the Valium up! 'Cause I don't know how I'm gonna get your mouths to shut Now when it doesn't matter what caliber I spit at, I'll bet a hundred thousand bucks You'll turn around and just be like, "Man, how the fuck Sourpuss gonna get mad just 'cause his album sucks? And now he wants to take it out on us." (ooh) But last week, an ex-fan mailed me a copy Of The Mathers LP to tell me to study It'll help me get back to myself and she'll love me (ooh) I mailed the bitch back and said if I did that I'd just be like everyone else in the fucking industry Especially an effing Recovery clone of me (didn't I think) So finger-bang, chicken wang, MGK, Iggy 'zae Lil Pump, Lil Xan imitate Lil Wayne I should aim at everybody in the game, pick a name I'm fed up with bein' humble And rumor is I'm hungry, I'm sure you heard bumblings I heard you wanna rumble like an empty stomach I heard your mumblin', but it's jumbled in mumbo-jumbo The era that I'm from will pummel you, that's what it's comin' to What the fuck you're gonna do? Who are you runnin' to? I'm gonna crumble you and I'll take a number two And dump on you, if you ain't Joyner If you ain't Kendrick or Cole or Sean then you're a goner I'm 'bout to bring it to anyone in this bitch who want it I guess when you walk into BK you expect a Whopper You can order a Quarter Pounder when you go to McDonald's But if you're lookin' to get a porterhouse you better go get Revival But y'all are actin' like I tried to serve you up a slider Maybe the vocals shoulda been auto-tuned And you woulda bought it But sayin' I no longer got it 'Cause you missed the line and never caught it 'Cause it went over your head, because you're too stupid to get it 'Cause you're mentally retarded, but pretend to be the smartest With your expertise and knowledge, but you'll never be an artist And I'm harder on myself than you could ever be regardless What I'll never be is flawless, all I'll ever be is honest Even when I'm gone, they're gonna say I brought it Even when I hit my forties like a fuckin' alcoholic With a bottle full of malt liquor But I couldn't bottle this shit any longer The fact that I know that I'ma hit my bottom If I don't pull myself from the jaws of defeat and rise to my feet I don't see why y'all even started with me I get impeached, my enemies die I don't cease fire 'til at least all are deceased I'm eastside, never be caught slippin' Now you see why I don't sleep, not even a wink, I don't blink I don't doze off, I don't even nod to the beats I don't even close my fuckin' eyes when I sneeze "Aw, man! That BET cypher was weak, it was garbage The Thing ain't even orange—oh my God, that's a reach!" Shout to all my colorblind people Each and everyone of y'all, if you call a fire engine green Aquamarine, or you think water is pink "Dawg, that's a date." "Looks like an olive to me." "Look, there's an apple!" "No, it's not, it's a peach!" So finger-bang, Pootie Tang, Burger King Gucci Gang, dookie, dang Charlamagne gonna hate anyway, doesn't matter what I say Give me Donkey of the Day What a way for 2018 to get underway But I'm gonna say everything that I wanna say Welcome to the slaughterhouse, bitch! (yeah) Invite 'em in like a One A Day; I'm not done (preach) 'Cause I feel like the beast of burden That line in the sand, was it even worth it? 'Cause the way I see people turning's Makin' it seem worthless, it's startin' to defeat the purpose I'm watchin' my fan base shrink to thirds And I was just tryin' to do the right thing, but word Has the court of public opinion reached a verdict Or still yet to be determined? 'Cause I'm determined to be me, critique the worship But if I could go back, I'd at least reword it And say I empathize with the people this evil serpent Sold the dream to that he's deserted But I think it's workin' These verses are makin' him a wee bit nervous And he's too scurred to answer me with words 'Cause he knows that he will lyrically get murdered But I know at least he's heard it 'Cause Agent Orange just sent the Secret Service To meet in person to see if I really think of hurtin' him Or ask if I'm linked to terrorists I said, "Only when it comes to ink and lyricists." But my beef is more media journalists (Hold up, hold up, hold up...) I said my beef is more meaty, a journalist Can get a mouthful of flesh And yes, I mean eating a penis 'Cause they been pannin' my album to death So I been givin' the media fingers Don't wanna turn this to a counselling sesh But they been puttin' me through the wringer So I ain't ironin' shit out with the press But I just took this beat to the cleaners

PT5M42S True 2021-05-14 120 90
Eminem – <p>Marshall Bruce Mathers III, better known by his stage name Eminem (stylized as EMINƎM) and alter ego Slim Shady, is an American rapper, music producer, composer and actor. In addition to his solo career, Marshall is also a member of the group D12 and hip-hop duo Bad Meets Evil. Eminem is one of the top-selling music artists in the world as well as the top-selling artist of the 2000s. He is named one of the greatest musicians of all time by many magazines, including Rolling Stone, which placed Eminem at number 83 on their list of the 100 Greatest Artists. The same magazine proclaimed him the King of Hip-Hop. If you count the studio work of his bands, then Eminem has 10 albums that reached number one on the Billboard 200. As a solo artist, Eminem has sold over 100 million albums worldwide.</p><p> Following the release of his independent debut album Infinite in 1996, Eminem achieved immense popularity in 1999 with the release of his debut album The Slim Shady LP on a major label. This LP earned Eminem his first Grammy Award for Best Rap Album. His next two records, The Marshall Mathers LP and The Eminem Show, also won a Grammy in the same category, making Eminem the first artist to win this award for best rap album three times in a row. This was followed by Encore in 2004 and a tour with him, after which Eminem took a creative break. On May 15, 2009, he released his first album in 5 years called Relapse. In 2010, the release of the seventh studio album, Recovery, took place, which was marked by worldwide success and was named the best-selling album of the year, as well as The Eminem Show in 2002. Eminem received a Grammy for both the Relapse and Recovery records for a total of 13 career awards. On November 5, 2013, Eminem released his eighth studio album, The Marshall Mathers LP 2.</p><p> Eminem is involved in a variety of activities: he has his own record label, which he operates with his manager Paul Rosenberg, and also has his own radio station, Shade 45 on Sirius XM Radio. In 2002, Eminem starred in the semi-autobiographical hip-hop drama The Eight Mile. He won the Academy Award for Best Song for a Film, becoming the first rap artist to win the award. He also made a cameo appearance in the films &quot;Moika&quot; (2001), &quot;Funny People&quot; (2009) and the television series &quot;Handsome&quot;.</p> – эминем
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[Intro:]

Yeah, yo, I'm just gonna write down my first thoughts
See where this takes me, 'cause I feel like I wanna punch the world in the fuckin' face right now, yeah!

[Verse:]
Let me explain just how to make greatness
Straight out the gate, I'm 'bout to break you down
Ain't no mistakes allowed, but make no mistake, I'm 'bout
To rape the alphabet, I may raise some brows
If I press the issue just to get the anger out (brrr)
Full magazine could take Staples out
Savage but ain't thinkin' 'bout no bank account
But bitch, I'm off the chain like Kala Brown
Motherfucker, shut the fuck up when I'm talkin', lil' bitch
I'm sorry, wait, what's your talent? Oh, critiquin'
My talent? Oh, bitch, I don't know who the fuck y'all are
To give a sub-par bar, even have an opinion of you
You mention me, millions of views, attention in news
I mention you, lose-lose for me, win-win for you
Billions of views, your ten cents are two
Skim through the music to give shit reviews
To get clicks, but bitch, you just lit the fuse
Don't get misconstrued, business as us'
Shit-list renewed, so get shit to do
Or get dissed, 'cause I just don't get
What the fuck half the shit is that you're listenin' to
Do you have any idea how much I hate this choppy flow
Everyone copies though? Probably no
Get this fuckin' audio out my Audi yo, adiós
I can see why people like Lil Yachty, but not me though
Not even dissin', it just ain't for me
All I am simply is just an MC
Maybe "Stan" just isn't your cup of tea
Maybe your cup's full of syrup and lean
Maybe I need to stir up shit, preferably
Shake the world up if it were up to me
Paul wants me to chill, y'all want me to ill
I should eat a pill, probably I will
Old me kill the new me, watch him bleed to death
I breathe on the mirror, I don't see my breath
Possibly I'm dead, I must be possessed
Like an evil spell, I'm E-V-I-L (evil, spelled)
Jam a Crest Whitestrip in the tip of my dick
With an ice pick, stick it in a vice grip
Hang it on a spike fence, bang it with a pipe wrench
While I take my ballsack and flick it like a light switch
Like vice-president Mike Pence
Back up on my shit in a sidekick as I lay it on a spike strip
These are things that I'd rather do than hear you on a mic
Since nine tenths of your rhyme is about ice and
Jesus Christ, man, how many times is
Someone gonna fuck on my bitch? (Fuck my side chick!)
You won't ever see Em icy
But as cold as I get on the M-I-C
I polarize shit, so the Thames might freeze
And your skull might split like I passed you upside it
Bitch, I got the club on smash like a nightstick (yeah)
Turn down for what?
I ain't loud enough, nah, turn the Valium up!
'Cause I don't know how I'm gonna get your mouths to shut
Now when it doesn't matter what caliber
I spit at, I'll bet a hundred thousand bucks
You'll turn around and just be like, "Man, how the fuck
Sourpuss gonna get mad just 'cause his album sucks?
And now he wants to take it out on us." (ooh)
But last week, an ex-fan mailed me a copy
Of The Mathers LP to tell me to study
It'll help me get back to myself and she'll love me (ooh)
I mailed the bitch back and said if I did that
I'd just be like everyone else in the fucking industry
Especially an effing Recovery clone of me (didn't I think)
So finger-bang, chicken wang, MGK, Iggy 'zae
Lil Pump, Lil Xan imitate Lil Wayne
I should aim at everybody in the game, pick a name
I'm fed up with bein' humble
And rumor is I'm hungry, I'm sure you heard bumblings
I heard you wanna rumble like an empty stomach
I heard your mumblin', but it's jumbled in mumbo-jumbo
The era that I'm from will pummel you, that's what it's comin' to
What the fuck you're gonna do? Who are you runnin' to?
I'm gonna crumble you and I'll take a number two
And dump on you, if you ain't Joyner
If you ain't Kendrick or Cole or Sean then you're a goner
I'm 'bout to bring it to anyone in this bitch who want it
I guess when you walk into BK you expect a Whopper
You can order a Quarter Pounder when you go to McDonald's
But if you're lookin' to get a porterhouse you better go get Revival
But y'all are actin' like I tried to serve you up a slider
Maybe the vocals shoulda been auto-tuned
And you woulda bought it
But sayin' I no longer got it
'Cause you missed the line and never caught it
'Cause it went over your head, because you're too stupid to get it
'Cause you're mentally retarded, but pretend to be the smartest
With your expertise and knowledge, but you'll never be an artist
And I'm harder on myself than you could ever be regardless
What I'll never be is flawless, all I'll ever be is honest
Even when I'm gone, they're gonna say I brought it
Even when I hit my forties like a fuckin' alcoholic
With a bottle full of malt liquor
But I couldn't bottle this shit any longer
The fact that I know that I'ma hit my bottom
If I don't pull myself from the jaws of defeat and rise to my feet
I don't see why y'all even started with me
I get impeached, my enemies die
I don't cease fire 'til at least all are deceased
I'm eastside, never be caught slippin'
Now you see why I don't sleep, not even a wink, I don't blink
I don't doze off, I don't even nod to the beats
I don't even close my fuckin' eyes when I sneeze
"Aw, man! That BET cypher was weak, it was garbage
The Thing ain't even orange—oh my God, that's a reach!"
Shout to all my colorblind people
Each and everyone of y'all, if you call a fire engine green
Aquamarine, or you think water is pink
"Dawg, that's a date." "Looks like an olive to me."
"Look, there's an apple!" "No, it's not, it's a peach!"
So finger-bang, Pootie Tang, Burger King
Gucci Gang, dookie, dang
Charlamagne gonna hate anyway, doesn't matter what I say
Give me Donkey of the Day
What a way for 2018 to get underway
But I'm gonna say everything that I wanna say
Welcome to the slaughterhouse, bitch! (yeah)
Invite 'em in like a One A Day; I'm not done (preach)
'Cause I feel like the beast of burden
That line in the sand, was it even worth it?
'Cause the way I see people turning's
Makin' it seem worthless, it's startin' to defeat the purpose
I'm watchin' my fan base shrink to thirds
And I was just tryin' to do the right thing, but word
Has the court of public opinion reached a verdict
Or still yet to be determined?
'Cause I'm determined to be me, critique the worship
But if I could go back, I'd at least reword it
And say I empathize with the people this evil serpent
Sold the dream to that he's deserted
But I think it's workin'
These verses are makin' him a wee bit nervous
And he's too scurred to answer me with words
'Cause he knows that he will lyrically get murdered
But I know at least he's heard it
'Cause Agent Orange just sent the Secret Service
To meet in person to see if I really think of hurtin' him
Or ask if I'm linked to terrorists
I said, "Only when it comes to ink and lyricists."
But my beef is more media journalists
(Hold up, hold up, hold up...)
I said my beef is more meaty, a journalist
Can get a mouthful of flesh
And yes, I mean eating a penis
'Cause they been pannin' my album to death
So I been givin' the media fingers
Don't wanna turn this to a counselling sesh
But they been puttin' me through the wringer
So I ain't ironin' shit out with the press
But I just took this beat to the cleaners






















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