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Uncle Marshall! |
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Will you tell us a bedtime story? |
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Here we go... |
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Now once upon a time not long ago |
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There was a little rapper about to blow |
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But his album came and it was not good |
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I think it went lead or double copper wood |
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So the silly little fans they were mislead |
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By a nerdy internet computer hip-hop head |
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"Me and you, 'Clef, we're gonna make some cash |
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Grab the silver paint and let's paint my ass" |
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Hey mister, would ya care to bare witness to |
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The ass-whippin' I'm about to administer |
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To this ass-kissin' little ******l blister |
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Stanabis, little Marshall Mathers' sister |
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And in this corner, we have the mister |
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Not havin' it, it's the mad sinister |
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Dr. Evil with his bag of tricks for |
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this little antagonist ****** ****-suckin' |
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Ex-LL Cool J fan from Windsor |
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I'm 'bout to murder little Kenny fag Keniff-sta |
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You bastard I ain't wanna have to diss ya |
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Canabis, where the **** you at? I miss ya! |
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Can-i-*****, oh Can-i-***** |
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Where for art thou Can-i-*****? |
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Please tell me what happened with |
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That style that you were rappin' with |
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Can-i-*****, oh Can-i-***** |
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Are you from Los Angeles |
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New York or just a janitor |
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From Canada? Oh Can-i-***** |
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Now at first I ain't really understand the shit |
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Picture me for a second and imagine it |
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Chillin' in the Bat-Mansion and relaxin' |
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When all a sudden some bullshit comes across the scanners |
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It's Can-i-***** on some "Stan Lives" shit |
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It creeped me out at first. Man this is sick |
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For me, being just a sick, this conflict |
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Gets my **** harder than arithmetic |
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And I know how you jealous ones envy |
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I shoulda knew better from the first few letters you sent me |
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The first two letters you were tellin' me shit |
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Like you respect me, like any other regular MC |
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The third letter you ask how come I ain't return |
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None of the messages at Shady Records you left me |
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The fourth letter: "Slim, you really startin' to upset me!" |
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The fifth letter told me you were comin' to get me |
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The sixth letter there's a bomb threat in our building |
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This crazy mother****er's really tryin' to kill me! |
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So I went back and read the first few letters that said |
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Some shit about a message you left |
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Oh shit, that's not an "E" that's an "A" |
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This dude wants to leave me a "massage," he's gay!! |
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Right away I'm on the phone with Dr. Dre |
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We got a bogey! (Marshall I'm on the way) |
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Can-i-*****, oh Can-i-***** |
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Where for art thou Can-i-*****? |
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Please tell me what happened with |
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That style that you were rappin' with |
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Can-i-*****, oh Can-i-***** |
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Are you from Los Angeles |
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New York or just a janitor |
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From Canada? Oh Can-i-***** |
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So in two seconds flat Dre's at my crib |
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The funny thing is we both know where this kid lives |
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And neither one of us have Canadian citizenship |
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Shit. Oh Dre, wait a mintue that's it |
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All we gotta do is use a bit of turbo boost |
[02:45.61]We can fly over the border "Let's go" [WOOSH!] |
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So we're off to Toronto and we're gainin' speed |
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(What was that? Oh) Jermaine Dupri |
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**** It, keep goin' no time to waste |
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Wait, backup hit him one more time in case |
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Okay .. **** now he's draggin' under the car |
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Oh well, only 30 more thousand miles |
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Meanwhile me and Dre are tryin' to conversate |
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Just tryin' to find a reason for the constant hate |
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And tryin' to figure out what happened to 'Germaine Propaine' |
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"He couldn't have fell off that hard" Ain't no way |
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"What happened to the way you was rappin' when you was scandalous |
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That Canibus turned into a television evangelist" |
[03:14.92]Plus he raps with his regular voice [BOOSH! BOOSH!] |
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(What was that?) Pet Shop Boys |
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So we pull up to the bridge where he last was spotted |
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His corpse was still movin' but his ass was rotted |
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He kinda smelled a little like Courtney Love |
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I figure if I stick him with a fork he's done |
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So I stabbed him twice, kept jabbin', Christ |
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He won't die, this guy's like a battered wife |
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He's like Kim, he keeps comin' back for more |
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But he won't fight back I cracked his jaw |
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Hold up, 'Bis quit foldin' up! |
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Punch me in the chest! Make my shoulders touch! |
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Do somethin'! At least one punchline |
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C'mon till the meter reads 9-9-9- |
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ty-nine percent of my fans are blonde |
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'Bis c'mon answer me man respond! |
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Tell me 'bout the sun rain moon and stars |
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Intergalatical metaphors from Mars! |
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Raw to the floor, raw like Reservoir Dogs |
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Bite another line from Redman's song! |
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Suddenly the stub from a dead man's arm |
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From a midget reaches out from under the car |
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It's JD, this mother****er won't die neither |
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Dre starts sprayin' him with cans of ether |
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We stomped the ***** and then stopmed the ***** again |
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(Compton!) Detroit *****! Talk some shit again! |
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Stomp him! (switch feet) Stomp him! (switch again!) |
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Dre alright he's dead dog, quit kickin him! |
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I think Stanabis jumped off the bridge again (Damn) |
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He disappeared yo he's gone he did it again |
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Can-i-*****, oh Can-i-***** |
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Where for art thou Can-i-*****? |
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Please tell me what happened with |
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That style that you were rappin' with |
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Can-i-*****, oh Can-i-***** |
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Are you from Los Angeles |
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New York or just a janitor |
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From Canada? Oh Can-i-***** |
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