Just Don't Give A **** (Live From Tramps, New York / 1999)

作曲 : Mark Bass/Jeff Bass/Eminem

Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady

I'm a M-80, you little like that Kim lady

I'm buzzin', Dirty Dozen, naughty rotten rhymer

Cursin' at you players worse than Marty Schottenheimer

You wacker than the mother****er you bit yo' style from

You ain't gon' sell two copies if you press a double album

Admit it, **** it, while we comin' out in the open

I'm doin' acid, crack, smack, coke, and smokin' shit then

My name is Marshall Mathers, I'm an alcoholic (Hi, Marshall)

I have a disease and they don't know what to call it

Better hide your wallet 'cause I'm comin' up quick to strip yo' cash

Bought a ticket to yo' concert just to come and whip yo' ass

Bitch, I'm comin' out swingin' so fast it'll make yo' eyes spin

You gettin' knocked the **** out like Mike Tyson (Pssh)

The proof is in the puddin', just ask DeShaun Holton

I'll slit yo' mother****in' throat worse than Ron Goldman

So when you see me on yo' block with two Glocks

Screamin', '**** the world' like 2Pac (I just don't give a ****)

Talkin' that shit behind my back, dirty mackin'

Tellin' your boys that I'm on crack (I just don't give a ****)

So put my tape back on the rack, go run and tell your friends

My shit is wack (I just don't give a ****)

But see me on the street and duck

'Cause you gon' get stuck, stoned, and snuffed

('Cause I just don't give a ****)

I'm nicer than Pete, but I'm on a search to crush a milkbone

I'm everlastin', I melt vanilla ice like silicone

I'm ill enough to just straight up diss you for no reason

I'm colder than snow season when it's 20 below freezin'

Flavor with no seasoning, this is the sneak preview

I'll diss yo' magazine and still won't get a weak review

I'll make yo' freak leave you, smell the Folgers crystals

This is lyrical combat, gentlemen, hold your pistols

But I form like Voltron and blast you with my shoulder missiles

Slim Shady, M&M was the old initials (Bye-bye)

Extortion, snortin', supportin' abortion

Pathological liar, blowin' shit outta proportion

The looniest, zaniest, spontaneous, sporadic

Impulsive thinker, compulsive drinker, addict

Half animal, half man

Dumpin' yo' dead body inside of a ****in' trash can

With more holes than an afghan

So when you see me on yo' block with two Glocks

Screamin', '**** the world' like 2Pac (I just don't give a ****)

Talkin' that shit behind my back, dirty mackin'

Tellin' your boys that I'm on crack (I just don't give a ****)

So put my tape back on the rack, go run and tell your friends

My shit is wack (I just don't give a ****)

But see me on the street and duck

'Cause you finna get stuck, stoned, and snuffed

('Cause I just don't give a ****)

Somebody let me out this limousine (Hey, let me out)

I'm a caged demon

On stage screamin' like Rage Against the Machine

I'm convinced I'm a fiend

Shootin' up while this record is spinnin'

Clinically brain-dead, I don't need a second opinion

**** droppin' a jewel, I'm flippin' a sacred treasure

I'll bite yo' mother****in' style just to make it fresher

I can't take the pressure, I'm sick of bitches

Sick of naggin' bosses bitchin' while I'm washin' dishes

In school, I never said much, too busy havin' a head rush

Doin' too much rush, had my face flushed like red blush

Then I went to Jim Beam, that's when my face grayed

Went to gym in eighth grade, **** the women's swim team

Don't take me for a joke, I'm no comedian

Too many mental problems got me snortin' coke and smokin' weed again

I'm goin' up over the curb, drivin' on the median

Finally made it home but I don't got the key to get in

So when you see me on yo' block with two Glocks

Screamin', '**** the world' like 2Pac (I just don't give a ****)

Talkin' that shit behind my back, dirty mackin'