Текст песни Eminem - Almost Famous (Instrumental)

Almost Famous
Жанр: Hip-Hop
Исполнитель: Eminem
Альбом: Almost Famous
Длительность: 01:48
Рейтинг: 468
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: IhitI


I can almost taste it, This shit makes no sense to me, What does it all mean?? I can almost taste it, I can almost savour it, This shit makes no sense to me, What does it all mean?? I can almost taste it... Yeah, can`t stop now... This maybe the last chance I get To be famous! [Chorus:] You dream of trading places, I have been changing faces, You cannot fill these shoes, There is too much to lose. Wake up behind these trenches, You run around defenceless, There is too much to lose, You cannot fill these shoes. -I just wanna be famous but... -Be careful what you wish for! I stuck my dick in this game Like a rapist, They call me Slim Roethlisberger, I get bezerker than A fed up post office worker, A murker with a Mossberg, I`m pissed off, get murdered Like someone took a ketchup squirter, Squirted a frankfurter! For a gangsta, you sure did Shit your pants when you saw The chainsaw get to waving Like a Terrible Towel, How things turn around, When his fangs come out, Get your brains blown out! That`s what I call blowing your mind, When I come back Like nut on your spine, I`m a thumbtack that you slept on son, Now here I come screaming "Attack!" Like I just stepped on one! Low on the totem til` he showed `em Defiance, giant scrotum, He don`t owe them bitches shit, His britches, he out grow`d em, He`s so out cold, he`s knocked out At the south pole and Nobody fucks with him, Rigor mortis and post-mortem, He`s dying of boredom, Take your best rhymes, record `em, Then try to thwart him, he`ll Take your punchlines and snort `em. Shit-stained drawers, You gon` fuck with the guy That licks the blades of his chainsaws While he dips `em in P.F.Chang`s sauce, Game`s up homie, Hang it up like some crank calls, You think I`m backing down, You must be out your dang skulls! I`m almost famous... [Chorus] I`m back for revenge, I lost the battle, That ain`t happening again I`m at your throat like strep, I step, strapped with a pen, Metaphors wrote on my hand, Some are just stored in my memory, Some are wrote on a napkin, I do what I have to to win, Pulling out all stops, Any who touched a mic prior Is not even Austin Powers, How the fuck are they Mike Myers? And tell that psycho To pass the torch to the whacko `For I take a shit In his jackolantern Then smash it on his porch, Now get off my dick, dick`s Too short of a word for my dick, Get off my Antidisestablishmentarianism, You prick! Don`t call me the champ, call me The space shuttle destroyer I just blew up the challenger, Matter of fact, I need a lawyer, I just laced my gloves with Enough plaster to make a cast, Beat his ass naked and Pee`d in his corner Like Verne Troyer, Ya`ll are Eminem backwards, You`re Mini-Mes, See he`s in A-whole-nother weight class, He`s slugs, you`re BBs, You`re bean-bag bullets. You`re full of it, You were dissing his CD`s, Laughed at Infinite, Now he`s back Like someone pissed in his wheaties, No peace treaties, He`s turned into a beast, His new Slim Shady EP`s got The attention of the mighty Dre, He`s almost famous... [Chorus] Now there he goes in Dre`s studio Cupping his balls, Screaming the wood off the panel And cussing the paint off the walls, Spewing his hate to these haters, Showing no love for these brauds. He ain`t giving `em shit, He says he`ll pinch a penny so hard He`ll leave a bruise on the bronze So dark you can see the mark With the scars til Abraham Lincoln Is screaming out "AHHH!" His metaphors and similies Ain`t similar to them not at all, If they don`t like They can all get fucked Instead of sucking him
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