Marshall Mathers Lp Lyrics

from Digital Biography

"Marshall Mathers Lp" is track #10 on the album Digital Biography. It was written by Jeff Bass;mark Bass;marshall Mathers.
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"Marshall Mathers Lp" is track #10 on the album Digital Biography. It was written by Jeff Bass;mark Bass;marshall Mathers.
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You know I just don't get it
Last year I was nobody, this year I'm sellin' records
Now everybody wants to come around like I owe 'em somethin'
Heh, the fuck you want from me, ten million dollars?
Get the fuck out of here

You see I'm, just Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run their mouth and try to take shots at me

Yo, you might see me joggin', you might see me walkin'
You might see me walkin' a dead rottweiler dog
With it's head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar
Hollerin' at him 'cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin'

Or leanin' out a window, with a cocked shotgun
Drivin' up the block in the car that they shot 'Pac in
Lookin' for Big's killers, dressed in ridiculous
Blue and red like I don't see what the big deal is

Double barrel twelve gauge, thinkin' of Chris Wallace
Pissed off 'cause Biggie and 'Pac just missed all this
Watchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em
And get dollars that shoulda been there's like they switched wallets

And amidst all this Crist' poppin' and wrist watches
I had to sit back and just watch and just get nauseous
And walk around with an empty bottle of Remi Martin
Startin' shit like some 26 year old skinny Cartman

I'm anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin
With instincts to kill N'Sync, don't get me started
These fuckin' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage
What's this bitch retarded? Gimme back my sixteen dollars

All I see is sissies in magazines smiling
Whatever happened to whylin' out and bein' violent?
Whatever happened to catchin' a good ol' fashioned
Passionate ass-whoopin' and gettin' your shoes coat
And your hat tooken?

New Kids on the Block, sucked a lot of dick
Boy/girl groups make me sick
And I can't wait 'til I catch all you faggots in public
I'ma love it

Vanilla Ice don't like me
Said some shit in Vibe to spite me
Then went and dyed his hair just like me
A bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me

And run around screamin, "I don't care, just bite me"
I think I was put here to annoy the world
And destroy your little 4 year old boy or girl
Plus I was put here to put fear in faggots who spray Faygo Root Beer
And call themselves, clowns, 'cause they look queer

Faggot2Dope and Silent Gay
Claimin' Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away
And I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin' faggots the fuck out
Ask 'em about the club they was at when they snuck out

After they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out
Ducked down and got paintballs shot at they truck, blaow
Look at y'all runnin' your mouth again
When you ain't seen a fuckin' Mile Road, South of 10

And I don't need help from D-12 to beat up two females
In make-up, who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails
"Slim Anus," you damn right, Slim Anus
I don't get fucked in mine like you two little flaming faggots

'Cause I'm just Marshall Mathers
I'm not a wrestler guy, I'll knock you out if you talk about me
Come and see me on the streets alone if you assholes doubt me
And if you wanna run your mouth then come take your best shot at me

Is it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?
You little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy
Now because of this blonde mop that's on top
And this fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop?

The underground just spunned around and did a 360
Now these kids diss me and act like some big sissies
"Oh, he just did some shit with Missy
So now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with MC Get-Bizzy"

My fuckin' bitch mom's suin' for ten million
She must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin'
Shit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?
All I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress

Which is it bitch, Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?
It doesn't matter you faggot
Talkin' about I fabricated my past
He's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass

So tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?
For every million I make, another relative sues
Family fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper
All the sudden, I got 90-some cousins
(Hey, it's me)

A half-brother and sister who never seen me
Or even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV
Now everybody's so happy and proud
I'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house

Hey, hey and then to top it off, I walked to the newsstand
To buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp
Skipped to the last page, flipped right fast
And what do I see? A picture of my big white ass

Okay, let me give you motherfuckers some help
Uhh, here double XL, double XL
Now your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell
Ahh fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself

'Cause I'm, just Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and take shots at me

'Cause I'm, just Marshall Mathers
I'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the fuss about me
Nobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did was doubt me
Now everybody wanna run they mouth and take shots at me

Songwriters
Jeff Bass;Mark Bass;Marshall Mathers

Published by
8 MILE STYLE MUSIC

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