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Pneumatic Door Mechanism Hiss 2
Can't stop now, this may be the last chance that I get— (I just wanna be famous).
You dream of trading places, I have been changing faces You can not fill these shoes, There is too much to lose. Wake up behind these trenches, You run around defenseless. There is too much to lose, You can not fill these shoes I just want to 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 go berserker 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 gangster you sure did shit your pants When you saw that chainsaw get to waving Like a terrible towel How thangs turn out When his fangs come out Get your brains blown out That's what I call blowing your mind When I cum back Like nut on your spine I'm the thumb tack That you slept on son Now here I come screaming 'a tac!' like I just stepped on one Low on the totem till he showed 'em Defiance, giant scrotum He don't owe 'dem bitches shit His britches, he out growed '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 To try to thwart him He'll just take your punch lines and snort 'em Shit stained drawers You gon' fuck with a guy who licks the blades of his chainsaws While he dips 'em in PF Chang's sauce Games off, homie, hang it up like some crank calls You think I'm backing down You must be out of your dang skulls I'm almost famous
I'm back for revenge I lost a battle that ain't happening again Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com 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 Pullin' out all stops, any who touch a mic prior's Not even Austin Powers, how the fuck are they Mike Meyers And tell that psycho to pass the torch To the whacko 'fore I take a shit in his Jack-O-Lantern And 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, matta' fact I need a lawyer I just laced my gloves wit' enough plaster To make a cast, beat his ass naked and peed in his corner like Vern Troyer Ya'll are Eminem backwards, your meni me's See he's in a whole 'nother weight class He slugs, you're BB's you're bean bag bullets You're full of it; you were dissin' 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 D. R. E. He's almost famous
Now there he goes in Dre's studio cuppin' his balls Screaming the wood off the panelling Cussing the paint off the walls Spewing his hate to these haters, showing no love for these broads He ain't given '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 When it scars, till Abraham Lincoln is screaming out 'awww!' His metaphors and similes ain't similar to them, not at all If they don't like it, they can all get fucked instead of sucking him off They can go get a belt or a neck tie, to hang themselves by Like David Carradine they can go fuck themselves and just die And eat shit while they at it He's fucking had it, he's mad at the whole world So go to hell and build a snowman, girl The bullies become bullied, if pussies get pushed Then they better pull me, take me back to 9th grade to school me 'Cause I ain't looking back, only forward, this whole spot blow it Who could have known he'd grow to be a poet and not know it And while I'm being poetic let me get historic and raise the bar Higher than my opinion of these women's been lowered So bare witness to some biblical shit There's a cold wind blowing This world ain't gonna know what hit it He did it, he made it, he's finally famous
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