Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Eminem
Eminem
Vocals
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Keyboards
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Songwriter
Marshall Mathers
Marshall Mathers
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Eminem
Eminem
Producer
Luis Resto
Luis Resto
Producer
Mike Strange
Mike Strange
Recording Engineer
Tony Campana
Tony Campana
Assistant Recording Engineer
Joe Strange
Joe Strange
Assistant Recording Engineer
Brian Gardner
Brian Gardner
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

My name is Marsh and this world, I'm out of it (out of it) 'Cause with all this A-B-C shit, I'm startin' to sound like alphabet Ha! I kill me, this medicine's counterfeit I was misled by the sound of it How am I gonna get turnt up on this Valium shit? (Yeah) Checked in at the Royal Garden To chill and avoid my problems Until paranoia caused me to feel like I'm going bonkers For real, think my toilet's talkin' I spilled like, like forty bottles of pills Think your boy is startin' to feel like a spoiled carton of milk 'Cause it just occurred My girl's cheatin', I'm kickin' that fuckin' bitch to the curb But the word fuckin' ain't meant to be a descriptive word The type of bitch she is ain't no adjective, it's a verb Hoe thinks her snatch is magical, but that's how she attracts Men and who traps 'em and attack similar to an actual arachnid Or a vaginal tarantula or black widow In fact, it'll be nothing to throw that lil' Bitch with a capital B out the back window out the black Cadillac limo like a whack demo When I'm strapped, when I spit rapid, like a ratchet A halfwit I'll aim at then I'll Been fire bitch, I can't outrap Reynolds A pad and pen'd be great but a napkin'll do Return of the whack sicko Head spinnin' like invisible scratch pickles Yeah, Shady's back, see the bat signal It's time to go bat shit Like you accidentally ate a Louisville Slugger and crapped it, I'd like to introduce myself Hi there, bitch My name is Marsh and, I'm out this world (this world) S on my chest (Superman) like it's plural (it's lit) Call me extra, extra terrestrial Extra, extra, extra terrestrial Yeah, I could keep beefin' Fuck is the point? I could make it really difficult for motherfuckers to come to Detroit If you're still looking for smoke, I already gave you an L I'd rather just see you in hell but I should get puff on the joint (Diddy) Wait, run it back, I said gave you an L, in hell Puff on the joint, I am the blunt you avoid Used to get jumped for my poems When I was growin' up they said a slinky's a wonderful toy My mother thought I was such a fun little boy Oh, what a bundle of joy! Until the morning she suffered a punch in the groin From the tantrum I was throwing Like a motherfuckin' disgruntled employee I don't cut the beat 'til I fuckin' destroy it Once I get going rain thunder it's storming Puddles are forming, I hear somebody's voice In my head say it's still a dream Then he said kill emcee's Trippie Redd, with pills on lean Sippin' meds in the limousine Getting head, guillotine My name is Marsh and, I'm out this world (this world) S on my chest (Superman) like it's plural (it's lit) Call me extra, extra terrestrial Extra, extra, extra terrestrial Yeah So all of y'all can just suck a penis (suck a penis) I'll do the opposite (I'll do the opposite) Eat you pussies like cunnilingus (like cunnilingus) There ain't no stopping it (there ain't no stopping it) They say I'm such a genius (they say I'm such a genius) When that kamikaze hit (when that kamikaze hit) Now they call me, butter fingers (they call me, butter fingers) 'Cause I just keep droppin' shit (I just keep droppin' shit) You wanna butt heads? Shut up Beavis, ha ha I got your bitch with her butt out I'm hittin' a lick and she stickin' her tongue out You got no hitters, you might be pitchin' a shut out She 'bout to give up the dug out I should just live in a nut house Right now, I live in an igloo (yeah) And I'm not chillin' the fuck out Treat you like a stepparent, does to a stepchild with red hair and Plus I get dough like Ed Sheeran, so call me the ginger bread man I'm a stan of Redman, ex clan and I'm a Treach fan But I look up to myself (yeah) Like a fucking headstand (yeah) So why, w-w-why else, would I call myself an alien? How could I hit a dry spell (yeah), I'm named after the wet lands I'm Marsh and, I'm out this world (this world) S on my chest (Superman) like it's plural Call me extra, extra terrestrial My name is Marsh and, my name is, my name is My name is Marsh
Writer(s): Luis Edgardo Resto, Marshall B. Mathers Iii Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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