Lyrics

Search

Search IconIcon to open search

Rap God

 

Look, I was gonna go easy on you, not to hurt your feelings

But I’m only going to get this one chance

Something’s wrong, I can feel it (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you’re on)

Just a feeling I’ve got, like something’s about to happen, but I don’t know what

If that means what I think it means, we’re in trouble big trouble

And if he is bananas as you say, I’m not taking any chances

You are just what the doctor ordered

 

I’m beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slapbox, slapbox?

They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rapbot

 

But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes

I got a laptop in my back pocket

My pen’ll go off when I half-cock it

Got a fat knot from that rap profit

 

Made a living and a killing off it

Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office

With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his nut-sack

I’m an MC still as honest

 

But as rude and indecent as all hell

Syllables skill-a-holic (Kill ’em all with)

This slickety-gippety-hippity-hip-hop

You don’t really wanna get into a pissing match with this rappity-rap

Packing a Mack in the back of the Ac, backpack rap, yap-yap, yacketty-yack

 

And now at the exact same time

I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I’m practicing that

I’ll still be able to break a motherfuckin’ table

Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half

 

Only realized it was ironic I was signed to Aftermath after the fact

How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs, feel my wrath of attack

Rappers are having a rough time period, here’s a maxi-pad

It’s actually disastrously bad for the wack

While I’m masterfully constructing this masterpiece, yeah

 

‘Cause I’m beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slapbox, slapbox?

Let me show you maintaining this shit ain’t that hard, that hard

 

Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got

Well, to be truthful the blueprint’s simply rage and youthful exuberance

Everybody loves to root for a nuisance

Hit the earth like an asteroid, I did nothing but shoot for the moon since

pew

 

MCs get taken to school with this music

‘Cause I use it as a vehicle to bust the rhyme

Now I lead a new school full of students

Me? I’m a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac, N-

-W.A, Cube, hey Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim

 

Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up, and be in a position

To meet Run-D.M.C. and induct them into the motherfuckin’ Rock n’

Roll Hall of Fame

Even though I’ll walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames

Only Hall of Fame I be inducted in is the alcohol of fame

On the wall of shame

You fags think it’s all a game till I walk a flock of flames

Off a plank and, tell me what in the fuck are you thinking?

Little gay looking boy

 

So gay I can barely say it with a straight face looking boy

You witnessing a massacre

Like you watching a church gathering take place looking boy

Oy vey, that boy’s gay, that’s all they say looking boy

You get a thumbs up, pat on the back

And a way to go from your label everyday looking boy

Hey, looking boy, what you say looking boy?

I get a “hell yeah” from Dre looking boy

I’mma work for everything I have

Never asked nobody for that shit, get outta my face looking boy

Basically boy you’re never gonna be capable

Of keeping up with the same pace looking boy

 

‘Cause I’m beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

The way I’m racing around the track, call me Nascar, Nascar

Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God

Kneel before General Zod this planet’s Krypton, no Asgard, Asgard

 

So you be Thor and I’ll be Odin, you rodent, I’m omnipotent

Let off then I’m reloading immediately with these bombs I’m totin’

And I should not be woken

I’m the walking dead, but I’m just a talking head, a zombie floating

But I got your mom deep throating

 

I’m out my Ramen noodle, we have nothing in common, poodle

I’m a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil

It’s me, my honesty’s brutal

But it’s honestly futile if I don’t utilize what I do though

 

For good at least once in a while

So I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle

Enough rhymes to maybe try to help get some people through tough times

But I gotta keep a few punchlines just in case ‘cause even you unsigned

Rappers are hungry looking at me like it’s lunchtime

I know there was a time where once I

Was king of the underground, but I still rap like I’m on my Pharoahe Monch grind

 

So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine

Appeal with the skin color of mine

You get too big and here they come trying to censor you

Like that one line I said on “I’m Back” from The Mathers LP

One where I tried to say I’d take seven kids from Columbine

Put ’em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine

See if I get away with it now that I ain’t as big as I was, but I’m

 

Morphin’ into an immortal coming through the portal

You’re stuck in a time warp from 2004 though

And I don’t know what the fuck that you rhyme for

You’re pointless as Rapunzel with fucking cornrows

You write normal, fuck being normal

And I just bought a new raygun from the future

 

To just come and shoot ya like when Fabolous made Ray J mad

‘Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Maywhether’s pad

Singin’ to a man while he played piano

Man, oh, man, that was the 24/7 special on the cable channel

So Ray J went straight to the radio station the very next day

“Hey, Fab, I’mma kill you”

Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed, JJ Fad

 

Uh, sama lamaa duma lamaa you assuming I’m a human

What I gotta do to get it through to you I’m superhuman

Innovative and I’m made of rubber

So that anything you say is ricocheting off of me and it’ll glue to you

I’m devastating, more than never demonstrating

How to give a motherfuckin’ audience a feeling like it’s levitating

Never fading, and I know the haters are forever waiting

For the day that they can say I fell off, they’ll be celebrating

‘Cause I know the way to get ’em motivated

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

Oh, he’s too mainstream

Well, that’s what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it

It’s not hip-hop, it’s pop, ‘cause I found a hella way to fuse it

With rock, shock rap with Doc

Throw on Lose Yourself and make ’em lose it

 

I don’t know how to make songs like that

I don’t know what words to use

Let me know when it occurs to you

While I’m ripping any one of these verses diverse as you

It’s curtains, I’m inadvertently hurtin’ you

How many verses I gotta murder to prove

That if you were half as nice, your songs and you could sacrifice virgins too

 

School flunky, pill junky

But look at the accolades these skills brung me

Full of myself, but still hungry

I bully myself ‘cause I make me do what I put my mind to

And I’m a million leagues above you, ill when I speak in tongues

But it’s still tongue and cheek, fuck you

I’m drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel, I’m asleep in the front seat

Bumping Heavy D. & the Boys, still chunky, but funky

But in my head there’s something I can feel tugging and struggling

Angels fight with devils and here’s what they want from me

 

They asking me to eliminate some of the women hate

But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred that I had

Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic to the situation

And understand the discrimination

 

But fuck it, life’s handing you lemons, make lemonade then

But if I can’t batter the women how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?

Don’t mistake it for Satan

It’s a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas

And take a vacation to trip a broad

And make her fall on her face and don’t be a retard

Be a king? Think not

Why be a king when you can be a God?