название:

3 Verses


автор:

Eminem


жанры: rap, hip-hop
альбомы: Fucking Crazy
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.2 / 1195 просмотров
I'm the illest rapper to hold a cordless 
Patrolling corners 
Looking for hookers to punch in the mouth with a roll of quarters 
I'm meaner in action 
Than Rosco beating James Tarteenyer (?) 
And smackin his back with vacuum cleaner attachments 
I grew up in the wild hood 
As a hazardous youth 
With a fucked up childhood 
That I used as an excuse 
And aint shit changed 
But kept the same mindstate 
Since the third time that I failed 9th grade 
You probably think that I'm a negative person don't be so sure of it 
I don't promote violence I just encourage it 
I laugh at the sight of death 
As I fall down a cement flight of steps 
And land inside a bed of spider webs 
So throw caution to the wind 
You and a friend 
Can jump off of a bridge and if you live, do it again 
Shit, why not? Blow your brain out 
I'm blowing mine out 
Fuck it, you only live once you might as well die now 

It's only fair to warn 
I was born with a set of horns 
And metaphors attached to my damn umbulical cord 
Warlord of rap little bastard with a two by four board 
That smashed into your Honda Accord 
With a 4 door Ford 
But a more toward (?) droppin an accapella 
The choppa (?) fella 
The mozarella 
Worse than a hellacopta propella 
Got you locked in the cella 
With your skeleton showing 
Developing anorexia 
While I'm standin next to ya 
Eating a full course meal watching you starve to death 
With an IV in your veins 
Feeding you liquid darvicet 
Pumping you full of drugs 
Pull the plugs 
On the gunshot victims full of bullet slugs 
Who were picked up in an ambulance 
And driven 
To receiving with the asses ripped outta they pants 
And given 
A less than 20 percent chance 
Of living 
Have a possible placement 
It's a hospital patient 
Storing the dead bodies in grandma's little basement 
Doctor Kevorkian has arrived 
To perform an autopsy on you while you scream "I'M STILL ALIVE!" 
Driving a rusty scalpel in through the top of your scalp 
And pulling your adams apple out through your mouth 
Better call the fire department 
I've hired a arson 
To set fire to carpet 
And burn up your entire apartment 
I'm a liar to start shit (?) 
Got your bitch wrapped around my dick 
So tight you need a crobar to pry her apart wit 

Met a retarded kid named Greg with a wooden leg 
Snatched it off and beat him over the fucking head with the peg 
Go to bed with the keg wake up with the 40 
Mixed up with Alka Seltzer and Formula 44D 
Fuck an acid tab I'll strap the whole sheet to my forehead 
Wait until it absorbed in and fell to the floor dead 
No more said case closed end of discussion 
I'm blowin up like spontaneous human combustion 
Leaving you in the aftermath of holocaust and traumas 
Cross the bombas (?) 
We blowin up your house killing your parents 
and coming back to get your foster mommas 
And I'm as good at keeping a promise as Nostradamus 
Cause I aint making no more threats 
I'm doing drivebys in tinted Corvettes on Vietnam war vets 
I'm more or less sick in the head 
Maybe more cause I smoked crack (?) 
today, yesterday, and the day before sabbath 
Walk the block with a labrador 
Strapit more corral for war than El Salvador 
Foul style galore 
Verbal cow manure 
Coming together like the eyebrow on Al B. Sure
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Это интересно:Его настоящее имя - Маршалл Брюс Мэтерс III (Ванилла Айс), появился он на свет в маленьком городке Сент-Джозеф, штате Миссури, 17 октября 1972 года в не слишком благополучной семье. Его отец и мать были участниками шоу-группы, дающей представления по кабакам вдоль границ штата. Однако после рождения Маршала они недолго прожили вместе - спустя пять или шесть месяцев, отец собрал пожитки и ушел... продолжение
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