Eminem - Underground
Den här låten är så fruktansvärt bra att den, ja, förtjänar en egen tråd.
Intro
A lot of people ask me, where the fuck I've been at the last few years
shitt I don't know, but I do know
I'm back now
Refräng
Here comes the rain
And thunder now
Nowhere to run
To run to now
I’ll disappear
They’ll wonder how
Looking for me
I’m underground
Vers 1
Dre I’m down here
Under the ground
Pick me up
Broken tibias, fibulas
Yeah, fix me up
Sixty sluts
All of em dying from as-phyxia
After they sip piss through a Christopher Reeves sippy cup
Dixie cups, toxins, boxes of oxy pads
Enough Oxycontin to send a fucking ox to rehab
Wack job in the back in a black stockin cap
Jacking off to a hockey mask
At a boxing match
“You can’t say that!”
Yes, he can, I just did faggot
Now guess again
Better text message your next of kin
Tell em shit’s about to get extra messy especially when I flex again
And throw a fucking lesbian in wet cement
Faggoty faggoty faggoty raggedy Anne and Andy
No, raggedy Andy and Andy
No, it can’t be it can’t be
Yes, it can be
The fucking AntiChrist is back Danny
It’s Satin in black satin panties
This is Amityville
Calamity God damnit It’s sanity
Pills - fanny pack filled with xanies
Through every nook and cranny
Looking for trannies
Milk and cookies
Spilt them
A silk neglashay, look
Razor –ba-laced whipping to make you ba-leed
Cases of Maybelline makeup lay on a table of weed
“Slim Shady, shit sounds like a fable to me”
Till he jumps out the fucking toilet when you’re taking a pee
Vers 2
Six semen samples
Seventeen strands of hair
Found in the back of a van after the shoot with Vanity Fair
Hannah Montana prepare to elope with a can opener
Her beat cut open like cantelope and canopy beds
And glad bags, Yeah, glad to be back
Cuz last year was a tragedy that landed me smack dab in rehab
fucking doctor, I ain’t understand a damn what he said
I planned to relapse the second I walked out of that bitch
Two weeks in Brighton
I ain’t enlightened
Biting into to a fucking Vicodin like I’m a Viking
Oh, lightning is striking it might be a fucking sign
That I need a Psychic
Evaluation, fuck Jason it’s Friday the nineteenth
That means it’s just a regular day
And this is the kind of shitt I think of regularly
fucking lesbian, shouldn’t have had her legs in the way
Now, she’s pregnant and gay
Missing both legs and begging to stay
Vers 3
So for critics, I’m back and I’m coming
To spit it back in abundance
Hit a fag with onions
Then split a bag of Funyons
Mad at me? Understandable
Cannibal, shoot an animal
Out of a cannon and have em catapult
At an adult
Captain of a cult with an elite following
To turn Halloween back to a trick or treat Holiday
Have Michael Myers looking like a liar
Swipe his powers
Replace his knife for flowers and a stack of flyers
Hit Jason Forhes with a 40
Stuck a suppository up his ass
And made him tell me a story
Gave Hannibal Lector a fucking nectarine
And sat him in the fucking fruit and vegetable section
And gave him a lecture
Walked up Elm street with a fucking whiffle bat drew
Fought Freddy Kreugar and Edward Scissorhands too
And came out with a little scratch – Ew
Lookin like a got in a fucking pillow fight
With a triple fat goose
Insanity? Can it be vanity?
Where’s the humanity in having a twisted fantasy
With an arm and leg amputee
Straight jacket with a hundred and eight brackets
And a strap that wraps twice around my back
Then they latch it
Cut your fucking head off
And ask where you’re headed off to
Get it?
Headed off too?
Medic! This headache’s awful
This anesthetic’s pathetic
So is this diabetic waffle
And this prosthetic arm keeps crushing my hard taco