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The Black Slim Shady

アーティスト：The Game  アルバム：DRILLMATIC Heart vs. Mind  作詞：Jayceon Terrell Taylor  作曲：Jayceon Terrell Taylor  発売年：2022 

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Hey, grandma Yeah, I'm still out here makin' my Uber runs I'll be home soon I just got one more pick up, kinda close to 8 Mile Okay, okay, love you too G-G-G-G, Shady (G-G) Shady Aftermath (Yeah) Me and Hit-Boy back on our shit, let's go Yeah (G-G) I don't think they know who they fuckin' with Pull that truck around, niggas is duckin' clips Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady I unpack the heat with my oven mitts I tip-toe around in my Chucks and shit Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady It's Game, sick in the brain Sick as the day that I came Hennessy runnin' through my veins, I load up the clip and aim Sick of you niggas talkin' like you won't get wet in the rain Now I'm singin' Frank Ocean, and you get hit with this Novacane Sick and tired of niggas, bitches, and critics, they all the same Lame games they playin', lyin', tryin' me for my name I stick my dick in your podcast Shallow bitch on the show, just to lick the tip it's ridiculous, she watchin' it grow Cross eyed-ed, crosshairs on my enemies If you cross the street, you run into me, you crash in to a light bolt Now you crawlin' out the driver side like a centipede And me, I'm finna be on a jet to the Phillipines Spill the beans, kick the Kool-Aid, overtell, God don't intervene While I'm smashin' Saweetie pussy to smithereens It's the G-A-ficky-ficky-M, paint my face, I'm him Puttin' this big black dick in your skims I don't think they know who they fuckin' with Pull that truck around, niggas is duckin' clips Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady I unpack the heat with my oven mitts I tip-toe around in my Chucks and shit Hi, I'm the Black Slim Shady I killed Dr. Dre in my basement last night I was wasted last night, I went ape shit last night Chopped his body up, and forget where I placed it last night Had a slice of humble pie, I couldn't taste it last night (Hahaha) Lost my taste and my smell, I got Omarion Me and Dr. Fauci went to Crazy Girls and then we got our party on So fee-fi-fum, I'm with 40 goin' dumb Not E-40, the other 40, I'm with Canadians in Drake's house (Havin' a stakeout) And I'm so tired of orderin' takeout, what's beef? Beef is when you tell the chef to bring them steaks out So let's play house with the Dracos and the AR Stay the fuck up off of Stanley grass and take a shit in they yard And my dick stay hard, when I see Lizzo on the internet (Here it is another BBL) And my dick get little on the internet My intellect is NFT's and Cryptos, I can never be a Crip though I tip-toe with my red rag around six O's Chuck? Yeah Hey, man, let's get you out the rain. Good lookin', how's your night goin', bro? I'm cool, man, you don't need that mask Nobody cares about that shit anymore You got a charger up there with you? Yeah, for sure, it reaches all the way back there too Good lookin', homie Ayo, I really fuck with that starter cap, that shit hard as fuck Crazy story behind it, my brother Stan, rest in peace What? He gave me this hat twenty-two years ago Damn It's my favorite Can I see that shit for a minute? Uh, yeah, sure Oh, shit, this motherfucker autographed and everything Who signed it for you? Eminem He used to be like this rap God Man, me and my brother praised him Back when I was little, I don't really like any of his new stuff Woah, wait, I know where we're goin', wait, why do you have a gu-? Yo, shut the fuck up Ayy, man, I'm drivin', I'll get you there wait I'll take you, I'm a fan, that's cool Stop lookin' back, stop lookin' back here It's cool dude, man, you don't need to do this Focus on the fuckin' road Okay Yo, come on, man Alright Drive Alright, alright Drive We'll go, we'll go Shut the fuck up Alright Ask Dre All I got is my word, my dick and my MAC 10 One thing you can never have is my motherfuckin' Black... skin This ain't no suit that I wore This ain't a mansion, a hangin' plaque, this ain't no stupid award So, oh, he goes platinum And, oh, I'm on the 'Math with him He got all the Blackest friends He wants to be African, me Left for dead on the Doctor's Advocate Dre never executive-produced it, I just imagined it Oh, here goes the magic tricks Candy shops and the magic stick DeAngelo Bailey got in shape to whoop your ass again You depressed, you just maskin' it You pop a Adderall, a Vicodin, and a Aspirin But the math wasn't mathin' in So pass me the torch 'cause the torture in my mind With the voice that defied rhymes will force the blind eye To see that I was in the white Rolls Royce with five .9's When you was pretendin' to be the white Royce da 5'9" I just crossed a fine line Might just force the white guy to call D12 so he can be the pork they grind, swine And the biggest rapper in Detroit, that award is Sean Don So uncork the Chardonnay and stick my fork in white wine I never heard you in a club, I never heard you in a bar Eleven albums and ten never got played inside of my car I'd rather listen to Snitch9ine like sixty-nine times And participate in sixty-nines with sixty-nine nuns than



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