Artist: Eminem Album: The Marshall Mathers LP 2 Song: Rhyme or Reason Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Intro] Yeah yeah Yeah, yeah yeah [Eminem] {"What's your name?"} Marshall {"Who's your dad-your daddy?"} I don't have one My mother reproduced like the komodo dragon And had me on the back of a motorcycle then crashed in the side of a locomotive with rap, I'm loco, it's like handin a psycho a loaded handgun Michelangelo with a paint gun in a tantrum 'bout to explode all over the canvas Back with the Yoda of rap "in a spasm Your music usually has 'em But waned for the game your enthusiasm it hasn't Follow you must, Rick Rubin my little Padawan" A Jedi in trainin Colossal brain and, thoughts of entertainin But docile and impossible to explain and, I'm also vain and probably find a way to complain about a Picasso paintin Puke Skywalker, but sound like Chewbacca when I talk Full of such blind rage, I need a seein eye dog Can't even find the page I was writin this rhyme on Oh, it's on the ram-page, couldn't see what I wrote, I write small It says "Ever since I drove a '79 Lincoln with white walls, had a fire in my heart and a dire desire to aspire to DIE HARD!" So as long as I'm on the clock punchin this time card hip-hop ain't dyin on my watch [Chorus: Eminem - singing to the tune of "Time of the Season"] Now sometimes, when I'm sleepin, she comes to me in my dreams Is she taken? (Is she taken?) Is she mine? (Is she mine?) Don't got time, don't care, don't have two shits to give Let me take you by the hand to, promise land, and threaten everyone (haha) Cause there's no rhyme, or no reason, for no-thing! Now {"What's your name?"} Marshall {"Who's your daddy?"} I don't know him, but I wonder {"Is he rich like me?"} Haha {"Does he take up (does he take up) any time (any time, to show) to show you what you need to live?"} [Eminem] NO! If he had He wouldn't have ended up in these rhymes on my pad I wouldn't be so mad, my attitude wouldn't be so bad Yeah, dad~! I'm, the epitome and the prime example of what happens when the power of the rhyme falls into the wrong hands and makes you wanna get up and start dancin even if it is Charles Manson who just happens to be rappin, blue lights flashin Laughin all the way to the bank, lamping in my K-Mart mansion I'm in the style department with a pile in my cart, rippin the aisle apart but With great power comes absolutely no responsiblity for content Completely despondent and condescending The king of nonsense and controversy is on a beat-killin spree, Your Honor, I must plead guilty, cause I sparked the revolution, rebel without a cause who caused the evolution of rap, to take it to the next level, boost it But several rebuked it, and whoever produced it ("Hip-hop is the devil's music!") Does that mean, it belongs to me cause I just happen to be a white honkey devil with two horns that don't honk but every time I speak, you hear a beep? But lyrically I never hear a peep, not even a whisper Rappers better stay clear of me bitch, cause it's the [Chorus: Eminem - singing to the tune of "Time of the Season"] It's the time (time) of the season (of the season) when hate runs high (high) And this time, won't give it to you easy (when I take) when I take back what's mine, with pleasured hands And torture everyone; that is my plan (haha) my job here isn't done (haha) Cause there's no rhyme, or no reason, for no-thing! So {"What's your name?"} Shady {"Who's your daddy?"} I don't give a fuck, but I wonder {"Is he rich like me?"} Doubt it, haha {"Does he take up (does he take up) any time (any time, to show) to show you what you need to live?"} [Eminem] So yeah dad, let's WALK Let's have us a father and son TALK But I bet we wouldn't probably get one BLOCK without me knockin your block OFF, this is all your FAULT! Maybe that's why I'm so bananas, I ap-peeled to all those walks of life whoever had strife Maybe that's what dad and son talks are like Cause I, related to the struggles of young America when their fuckin parents were unaware of their troubles Now they're rippin out their fuckin hair again, it's hyster-ical I chuckle, as everybody bloodies their bare knuckles Yeah, uh-oh, better beware knuckle- -heads, the sign on my hustle says don't knock, the door's broken, it won't lock It might just fly open, get cold-cocked You critics come to pay me a visit? Misery loves company, please stay a minute Kryptonite to a hypocrite, zip your lip If you dish it but can't take it, too busy gettin stoned in your glass house to kick rocks, then you wonder why I lash out Mr. Mathers as advertised on the flyers so spread the word cause I'm promotin my passion 'til I'm passed out Completely brain-dead, Rain Man doin the Bankhead in a restraint chair! So bitch, shoot me a look, it better be a blank stare Or get shanked in the pancreas, I'm angrier than all eight other reindeer put together with Chief Keef cause I hate every fuckin thing, yeah! Even this rhyme bitch And quit tryin to look for a fuckin reason for it that ain't there And I still am a CRIMINAL! 10 year-old degenerate grabbin on my GENITALS! The last Mathers LP done went diamond This time I'm predictin that this one'll go EMERALD! Ha, when will the madness end? How can it when there's no method to the pad and pen? The only message that I have to send is dad, I'm back at it again Yeah {"Who's your daddy?"}