Eminem Lyrics (My favorite songs)

Rhyme Or Reason - The Marshall Mathers LP2

(What's your name?) Marshall

(Who's your daddy?) I don't have one

My mother reproduced like a komodo dragon

And had me on the back of a motorcycle

Then crashed in the side of loco-motive with rap, I'm loco

It's like handing a psycho a loaded handgun

Michelangelo with a paint gun in a tantrum

About to explode all over the canvas

Back with the Yoda of rap in a spasm

(Your music usually has them)

(But waned for the game your enthusiasm it hasn't)

(Follow you must, Rick Rubin my little Padawan)

A Jedi in training, colossal brain and, thoughts of entertaining

But docile and impossible to explain and, I'm also vain and

Probably find a way to complain about a Picasso painting

Puke Skywalker, but sound like Chewbacca when I talk

Full of such blind rage I need a seeing eye dog

Can't even find the page, I was writing this rhyme on

Oh, it's on a rampage, 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 punching this time card

Hip hop ain't dying on my watch

But sometimes, when I'm sleeping, she comes to me in my dreams

Is she taken? Is she mine? Don't got, don't care, don't have two shits to give

Let me take you by the hand to promise land

And threaten everyone, cause there's no rhyme or no reason for nothing

(Whats your name?) Marshall

(Who's your daddy?) I don't know him, but I wonder

(Is he rich like me?) Ha-ha

(Has he taken, any time, to show you what you need to live?)

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 want to get up and start dancing

Even if it is Charles Manson who just happens, To be rapping

Blue lights flashing, laughing all the way to the bank

Lamping in my K-Mart mansion, I'm in the style department

With a pile in my car, ripping the aisle apart

With great power comes absolutely no responsibility, for content

Completely, despondent, and condescending

The king of nonsense and controversy is on, a

Beat killing spree, your honor, I must, plea