Eminem, D12 — Under The Influence

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Текст Eminem, D12 — Under The Influence

Chem-le-le-le-le-le-le-le, le-le, le-le
Chem-le-le-le-ne-miah-nuf-niah, ne-nish, ne-ne
Translation:

So you can suck my dick if you don’t like my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick!
Two pills I pop, ’til my pupils swell up like two pennies
I’m Clint Eastwood in his mid-twenties
A young-ass man with a trash can, strapped to the back
Of his ass so the rats can’t chew through his last pants
I’m like a mummy at night, fightin’ with bright lightnin’
And frightened with five little white Vicodin pills bitin’ him
I’m like a fuckin’ wasp in the hospital, lost
Stingin’ the fuck outta everything I come across in the halls
I light a candle and place it up on the mantel
Grab a knife at the blade and stab you with the fuckin’ handle
So when you find yourself wrapped up in the blinds, hurtin’
(Bitch, it’s too late)

‘Cause once you’re hung from the drapes, it’s curtains
I’m an instigator, .380 slug penetrator
Degradin’, creatin’ murders to kill haters
Accused for every crime known through the equator
They knew I did it for havin’ blood on my ‘gators
My weed’ll hit your chest like a double barrel gauge and
I’m a black grenade that’ll blow up in yo’ face
With a fifth in me, when I guzzle Remy I do shit on purpose
You never hear me say, «Forgive me»

I’m snatchin’ every penny, it gotta be that way, nigga, face it
That weed I sold to you, Brigade laced it
You hidin’, I make the President get a facelift
Niggas just afraid, handin’ me they bracelets
Chillin’ in the lab wasted, I’m the type
That’ll drink Kahlua and gin, throw up on the mic
Your life is ruined, you get socked right on sight
And even at the Million Man March, we gon’ fight
So you can suck my dick if you don’t like my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick!
‘Cause I don’t give a fuck if you don’t like my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick!

I’m a compulsive liar, settin’ my preacher on fire
Slashin’ your tires, flyin’ down Fenkell and Meyers
Plates expired, soon as I’m hired I’m fired
Jackin’ my dick off in a bed of barbed wire
(Hey, is Bizarre performin’?) Bitch, didn’t you read the flyer?
The special invited guest will be Richard Pryor
(Aren’t you a male dancer?) No, bitch, I’m retired
Fuckin’ your bitch in the ass with a tire iron
I’m ripped, I’m on an acid trip
My DJ’s in a coma for lettin’ the record skip
Lettin’ the record skip, lettin’ the record skip (Damn!)

I’m fuckin’ anything when I’m snortin’
It’s gonna cost 300 dollars to get my pitbull an abortion
Some bitch asked for my autograph
I called her a whore, spit beer in her face and laughed
I drop bombs like I was in Vietnam
All bitches is hoes, even my stinkin’-ass mom
Ayo, flashback, two feets, two deep up in that ass crack
Weed laced with somethin’- nigga, pass that!
In Amsterdam we only hang out with hash rats
At a «Stop the Violence» rally, I blast gats
BMI on publishin’; get yo’ ass capped
The Kuniva, divide up yo’ cash stack
Run yo’ motherfuckin’ pockets, ASAP

I don’t need a platinum chain, bitch, I snatched Shaq’s
Born loser, half thief and half black
Bring your boys and your guns and get laughed at
Bitch smacker, rich rappers get they Jag jacked
And found chopped up in a trash bag
We stranglin’ rappers until the point they can’t yell
‘Cause they crew is full of fags and sweeter than bake sales
Reckless, come from behind and snatch your necklace
Gruesome, and causin’ more violence than nine hoodlums
I grapple your Adam’s apple until it crackle
Run right past you, turn around, grab you and stab you
Get executed, ‘cause I’m a Luni, I got a Yukmouth
And it’s polluted; I cock it back, then shoot it
I love snatchin’ up players, thugs and young ballers
Shoot up the household, even the young toddlers
Brigade barricade to bring the noise
While the bullets break your bones up like Christmas toys

If I go solo, I’m doin’ a song with Bolo
A big Chinese nigga screamin’, «Kuniva, yo, yo!»
I leave ya face leakin’, run up in church
And smack the preacher while he’s preachin’
Take a swing at the deacon
I used to tell cats that I sold weed and weight
I was straight ’til I got caught sellin’ them shake
I’m ignorant, with the intent to snatch your rent
I got kicked out of summer camp for havin’ sex in my tent
With the superintendent’s daughter, my brain’s out of order
I’ve been a Kon Artis since I was swimmin’ in water
In cahoots with this nigga named Carlisle Von
Who got fired from UPS for tryin’ to send you a bomb
(Special delivery) I sign to a local label for fun
Say I got cancer, get dropped, take the advancement and run
Drive-by you in the rain while you carry your son
Call your house and hang up on you for not givin’ me none

Born straight up out a pussy but a son of a gun
Got a reputation for havin’ niggas runnin’ they funds
Used to be the type of nigga that was foldin’ some ones
‘Til I met your fat mama, now I’m rollin’ in dough
So you can suck my dick if you don’t like my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick!
‘Cause I don’t give a fuck if you don’t like my shit
‘Cause I was high when I wrote this, so suck my dick!
Ha-ha! Suck my motherfuckin’ dick!
D12, Dirty-motherfuckin’-Dozen
Nasty like a stank slut bitch with thirty fuckin’ husbands
Bizarre Kid, Swifty McVay, the Kon Artis
The Kuniva, Derty Harry, and Slim Shady