Baby - Eminem Paroles , lyrics

Paroles de Baby de Eminem

Eminem vous propose Baby, le single issue de son album The Marshall Mathers LP 2.
Les paroles ont été ajoutées en 2013.

Les paroles de Baby ont fait l'objet d'une relecture, cependant, il est possible que se dissimulent encore des erreurs. N'hésitez pas à me prévenir par mail.

One thousand different houses and Münchausen
Will make you wanna punch out some fucking one, ouch
What the fuck'd you hit me for, scream life as I punch counter
And bunches out of anger, I once encountered a stranger in a dumb gown
Black hood with a scythe, shit I laughed in his face spit
Bitch gave me an extra life, like take this
Now get your ass back in that game, bitch
Don't take shit for granted and don't take shit, give it
Only bull you should take is by the horns, a mixture of Whitey Ford
And Mighty Thor, I everlast, pen is mightier than sword
Finish writing then record, replenish keep writing more
Nothing's riding on it, but your pride, that's all you're fighting for
So you fight, scratch, you claw, backs to wall, no one was there
To catch you fall, you pick yourself back up, you dust your jacket off
You grab your balls, like they're gargantuan
And ask yourself how fucking bad you want it
Pull out your badge for whooping ass
And flash it on 'em, nobody's gonna back you in the corner, you're a hornet
No one's more ignorant then you fucking four in the morning
You're at the la-bor-atory, storming like there's nothing that's more important
MC's you better consider this a formal warning, you're in for it
Girl, what would you do if I said your body was "off the chain"
And I told you I smile "every single time I saw your face"
I ain't finished bitch, I meant "in half", oil the blades
Nobody wants to play, they say I'm "a spoiled little baby", but

Nobody puts a baby in the corner
I'm only tryna warn ya
Sad baby gets mad
And gets to throwing a tantrum, he'll fucking flip on ya

What goes through an addict's brain? Besides static pain
And Big Daddy Kane, great beats and words, an erratic train
Of thought like splatter paint, scatter brain yeah
Maybe that explains why you're back but you don't rap the same
And you're looking way thinner cause your hunger got you lookin'
Like they took away dinner, Sugar Ray Leonard
Wouldn't sugar coat a fucking booger though
Just to wipe that bitch on a hooker's coat
When you say you're a *Jugga, what? Jugga*
Now fling that bitch from your fingertips
Hope it lands on another rap singers lips who can't think of shit
Anything of wit that's interesting to spit
Show who's king of this fucking English lit?
Let your middle fingers flip on each hand, while extending this shit
How low can you go, lower then Chuck D ho
Hear the bass of this in my voice, Rocky's back, where's my Adrian
Nobody's crazy as Shady in an eighty million mile radius
I'm what Tom Brady is to the Patriots to rap
Not a man, I'm a weapon
Who just happened to be a rapper, who just happen to be on the crapper
When it happened I had an epiphany in the bathroom
I'd never be the same after, now I'm back with an appetite
For destruction and the fuckin' recipe for disaster
So let's eat cause I'm famished, every deed is a dastardly one
Evilest bastard, even you asking for me to be polite
To people is like me having my teeth pulled


So step inside of dementia, the demented side of a mind
That's like the inside of an engine, while I multiply your undivided attention
But be reminded that if I didn't mention, I lose my mind and my temper
You'll be the first one who finds him offensive
Got him climbing the fences, lost some time to addiction
But look up rhyme in the dictio-nary, I'm in the picture
Eminem is the synonym for it, I'm an enigma
Fuck it, let's get to the meat balls, I'm gonna skip the
Veg and potatoes, edumacator
They are shit legends are made of, spit treachreous data
Shit that you would say to your worst enemy
This wretched is what you get when you mix Treach with a Jada
Then combine 'em with Method Man and Redman with metham-
-phetamines in his left hand, in his right is a sledgehammer
In pajamas, standing in front of a webcam
Beating himselfs in the head, 'til Russell lets him off Def Jam
Maybe I need my head examined, Hannibal Lecter with a dead lamb
Hanging from his ceiling dripping with a bed pan
I need meds, swear to God, cause if I go off the edge
T.I. ain't talking me off a ledge man
Heart throb that'll fart, ah, nah, more like a smart slob
Part blob, that'll stab you with a sharp ob-
-ject to the heart
And leave claw marks all over the Wal-Mart walls
Little baby with large balls
Fuck mud-slinging, I'm blood-flinging
There's nothing on this fucking earth better than being a king of the playground
I hate the swings, but I love being an underdog
Cause when I'm pushed, I end up swinging (ah!)

(Merci Morgan-lesur pour les paroles)

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Genre : Rap, Hip Hop international | Major : Universal | Label : Polydor
Pochette de The Marshall Mathers LP 2
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