Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Eminem

So Far...

 

So Far...

(album: The Marshall Mathers LP 2 - 2013)


I own a mansion but live in a house
A king size bed but I sleep on the couch
I'm Mister Bright Side, glass is half-full
But my tanks half-empty, gasket just blew

[Verse 1:]
This always happens
Thirty minutes from home gotta lay a log cabin, only option I have's McDonalds' bathroom
In a public stall dropping a football so every time someone walks in the John I get Maddened
"Shady what up", what? come on man I'm crapping
And you're asking for my goddamn autograph on a napkin
Oh, that's odd I just happened
To run out of tissue, yeah hand me that on second though I'd be glad then
"Thanks dog, names Todd a big fan" I
Wiped my ass with it, crumbled it up in a wad threw it back and
Told 'im "Todd, you're the shit" when's all of this crap end?
Can't pump my gas without causing an accident
Pump my gas, cut my grass, I can't take out the fucking trash
Without someone passing through my sub harassing
I'd count my blessings but I suck at math
I'd rather wallow than bask, suffering succotash, but the ant
Acid it gives my stomach gas
When I mix my corn with my fucking mashed
Potatoes, so what hoe kiss my country bumpkin ass
Missouri southern roots, what the fuck is upper class?
Call lunch dinner, call dinner supper, Tupperware in the cupboard plastic ware up the ass
Stuck in the past iPod what the fuck is that?
B-Boy to the core mule I'm as stubborn as

[Chorus:]
Maybe that's why It feels so strange
Got it all but I still won't change
Maybe that's why I can't leave Detroit
It's the motivation that keeps me going
This is the inspiration I need
I could never turn my back on a city that made me
And, life's been good to me so far...

[Verse 2:]
They call me classless I heard that, I second and third that, don't know what the fuck I'd be doing if it weren't rap
Probably be a giant turd sack
But I blew, never turned back
Turned forty and still sag, teenagers act more fucking mature jack
Fuck you gonna say to me? I'll leave on my own terms ass
Hole I'm goin berserk, my nerves are bad
But I love the perks my work has
I get to meet famous people look at her, dag
Her. nylons are ran, her skirts snagged and I heard she drag races [burp] swag
Tuck in my Haynes shirt tag
You're Danica Patrick (yeah) word skag
We'd be the perfect match, cause you're a vacuum, I'm a dirtbag
My apologies, no disrespect to technology, but what the heck's all of these buttons you expect me to sit here and learn that?
Fuck I gotta do ta hear this new song from Luda, be an expert at
Computers? I'd rather be an Encyclopedia Britannica hell with
Playstation, I'm still on my first man on some Zelda
Nintendo bitch! run, jump, punch, stab, and I melt the
Mozzarella on my spaghetti put it on bread make a sandwich with Welch's
And belch, they say this spray butter's bad for my health, but
I think this poor white trash from the trailer
Jed Clampett, Fred Sanford and welfare, mentality helps ta
Keep me grounded, that's why I never take full advantage of wealth
I managed to dwell within these parameters still cramming the shelves full of Hamburger Helper
I can't even help it, this is the hand I was dealt a
Creature of habit, feel like I'm trapped in an animal shelter
With all these pet peeves, God damn it to hell I
Can't stand all these kids with their camera cellphones
I can't go anywhere, I get so mad I could yell the
Other day someone got all elaborate and stuck a head from a fucking dead cat in my mailbox
Went to Burger King, they spit on my onion rings
I think my karma's catching up with me

[Chorus]

[Bridge:]
Got friends on Facebook, all over the world
Not sure what that means, they tell me it's good
So I'm artist of the decade, I even got a plaque
I'd hang it up but the frame is all cracked

[Verse 3:]
I'm trying ta be low-key, hopefully nobody notices me
In produce, hunched over, giant nose bleed
Ogre style as I mosey over to the frozen aisle, by the frozen yogurt this guy approached me
Embarrassed, I just did Comerica with Hova the shows over, I'm hiding in Kroger's buying groceries
He just had front row seats told me, sign his poster then insults me
"Wow up close didn't know you had crows feet!"
I'm at a crossroads, lost, still shopping at Costco's
Sloppy joe's bulk waffles
Got caught picking my nose (aaghh!) look over see these two hot hoes
Finger still up one of my nostrils
Right next to 'em, stuck at the light the fucking shit's
Taking forever to change, it's stuck these bitches are loving it
Rubbing it in, chuckling
Couldn't do nothing play it off "what you bumpin'?" "Trunk Muzik, Yelawolf's better", fucking bitch
They want me to flip at the label, but I won't succumb to it
The pressure, they want me to follow up with a
Nother one after Recovery was so highly coveted
But what good is a fucking Recovery if I fumble it?
Cause I'm a drop the ball if I don't get a grip, hopping out shrubbery on you sons of bitches
Wrong subdivision
To fuck with bitch, quit snapping fucking pictures of my kids I love my city
But you pushed me to the limit what a pity
The shit I complain about
It's like there ain't a cloud in the sky, and it's raining out
Kool-Aid stain on the couch, I'll never get it out
But bitch, I got an elevator in my house, ants and a mouse
I'm living the dream

[Chorus]

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?