Song parody of

Marshall Mathers

by Eminem

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  • English (English)
  • Français (French)
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You know I just don't get it Last year I was nobody This year I'm sellin' records Now everybody wants to come around like I owe 'em somethin' The fuck you want from me, ten million dollars? Get the fuck out of here You see I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers) I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me) Nobody ever gave a fuck before, All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me) Now everybody want to run they mouth And take shots at me (take shots at me) Yo, you might see me joggin', you might see me walkin' 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 bitch won't quit barkin' Or leanin' out a window, with a cocked shotgun Drivin' up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in Lookin' for Big's killers, dressin' ridiculous Blue and red like I don't see what the big deal is Double barrel twelve gauge thinkin' of Chris Wallace Pissed off, cause Biggie and 'Pac just missed all this Watchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em And get dollars that should of 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' shit like some twenty-six-year-old skinny Cartman ("God damnit!") I'm anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin With instincts to kill N'Sync, don't get me started These fuckin' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage What's this bitch 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, sucked a lot of dick Boy-girl groups make me sick And I can't wait 'til I catch all you fagots in public I'm a love it (ha ha ha) Vanilla Ice don't like me (uh-uh) Said some shit in Vibe to spite me (yup) Then went and dyed his hair just like me (he he) A bunch of little kids want to swear just like me And run around screamin', "I don't care, just bite me" (nah nah) I think I was put here to annoy the world And destroy your little four-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 you to Dope and Silent Gay Claimin' Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away (fuckin' punks) And I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin' fagots the fuck out 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 (Ah!) Ducked down and got paint balls shot at they truck, blaow! Look at y'all runnin' your mouth again When you ain't seen a fuckin' Mile Road, south of ten And I don't need help, from D-12, to beat up two females In make-up, who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails "Slim Anus," you damn right, Slim Anus I don't get fucked in mine like you two little flaming fagots! 'Cause I'm, just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers) I'm not a wrestler guy, I'll knock you out if you talk about me (you talk about me) Come and see me on the streets alone If you assholes doubt me (assholes doubt me) And if you want to run your mouth Then come take your best shot at me (your best shot at me) Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me? You little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy Now because of this blond mop that's on top And this fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop? The underground just spunned around and did a three sixty Now these kids dis me and act like some big sissies "Oh, he just did some shit with Missy, So now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with M-C Get-Bizzy" My fuckin' bitch mom's suin' for ten million She must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin' Shit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit? All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress Which is it bitch, Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers? It doesn't matter you fagot! Talkin' about I fabricated my past He's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass (Uh!) So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do? For every million I make, another relative sues Family fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper All the sudden, I got ninety-some cousins (Hey it's me!) A half-brother and sister who never seen me Or even bothered to call me until they saw me on T-V Now everybody's so happy and proud I'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house Hey-hey! And then to top it off, I walked to the newsstand To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp Skipped to the last page, flipped right fast And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass Okay, let me give you motherfuckers some help Uh, here, double X-L, double X-L Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell Ah fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself 'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers) I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me) Nobody ever gave a fuck before, All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me) Now everybody want to run they mouth And take shots at me (take shots at me) 'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers) I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me (fuss about me) Nobody ever gave a fuck before, All they did was doubt me (did was doubt me) Now everybody want to run they mouth And take shots at me (take shots at me)

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Marshall Mathers

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