CuLt (Real Slim Shady Remix)

*gurgle* Fuck you

Verse 1:

I wish that Pac could see all of this hip hop hypocrisy
You want the god not me, but I was shown the prophecy
And sent to part the sea
I don’t beat around the burning bush, I just burn the tree
You don’t believe? then you the same as me (whoop!)

I’m going fully auto
Gotta lotta anger bottled
Wanna squabble with these rappers making references to Arnold
Sick of you, sycophants, kissin ass, tryna rap
But goddamn it I think I’m a bit more sick of Donald (bitch)

Really boutta convince Putin to nuke him
Aboutta pull a John Wilkes booth and shoot him
Pull up in the coupe and swoop him
Pull him into pieces eat him up and poop him out
Can’t stay silent was raised only knowing how to shout (fuck!)

I don’t plead the fifth I plead the first
Why I’m free to speak this verse
Gotta rap with speed in case big brother take my freedom first
But tell me what is freedom worth?
Take a life before the birth or with a burst which is worse?
(which is worse)

I plead the second grab my weapons
Pack an ammo bag and get a going onto Texas
Shoot a reverend in the head and watch it pop like it’s a melon
USA the fuckin' greatest at protecting our amendments
This is what the flag is representing? (anyways)

Here’s glimpse of my life if I was rich
Gold digging bitches bitching bout my purchases
Like hmph! this ain't Micheal Kors what fucking purse is this?
Bitch you better purse your lips
Else I’m hitting till your lip is split

She looking like she got a cleft
Once I hit her with the right
And I hit her with left
And toss her in the Hudson when I beat her ass to death
Not before I suck the titties off her chest
Bblblblb I’m outta breath!

I suppose that I’m an Indian giver
Because I’m pulling out this corpse after I throw it a river
Cause I been drinking so much Coors I think I need a liver
Grab her pull her out the bag and grab a pair of scissors (ahh!)

CHORUS:

Ima start a fucking cult up in the booth
Jim Jones I bring the juice
Jim Crow up in your school
Manson in your mansion with machetes and a noose
I’m worse than all of them combined with Columbine and that’s the truth (x2)

Verse 2:

I keep it cool, ain’t all up on that hype shit
Tweet you making heat, like every fucking night shit
Take a week off socials maybe learn to fuckin' write shit
You the reason people in the game don’t fuck with white shit

Your skill? Wack, my skill? you’d kill for half of half of half of that
Add myself to the game and subtract your ass
You asking why I’m adding math to rap
Because you looking at what’s coming after aftermath
Sending your ass back to class

If you attacking back you end up like meadow pollack
And that’s a fact
Don’t ever think to step to me you fuckin' fag
I give vasectomy 'n leave you headless dead without a body bag respect for anyone is something I don’t fuckin' have

Life ain’t what you know it’s who you know
Or who you blow
Whatcha know I’m back up in the studio
It’s beautiful
I'm here to do what none of you could do before
We ain’t the same I came to change the game because it’s clear that y’all ain’t suitable

Over educated, under medicated
Losing patience when I ain’t sedated
Mind is segregated, half is chasing ass the other chasing payment third half on crack coming to crack your head open over the pavement (yo)

CHORUS

Verse 3:

I’m a different species, who released me?
Beats I eat these, so many I got diabetes
Doc said he couldn’t treat me, So I switched to Wheaties
Bruce on the cover while I’m eating, thought shit that could be me

But not cause of the Olympics
Cause I don’t know where my dick went
This bitch wanted it for Christmas, so I put it on her gift list
Grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped it
Her reaction? well, her reaction ain’t your motherfucking business

But women always overreacting
Get it? ovary acting
Feminists are probably over me rapping
I wanna eat their asses, they're probably over me
Askin'
Fuck it ima fuck 'em no prophylactic and get em clappin'

Other day was fuckin' sumthin' or other
Got pissed at somethin' I muttered
Bout fuckin her mother
Saying what did you utter? like did I stutter?
I ain’t gon’ talk like I love her
Slide over silence her number
Cum inside her 'n slide under covers

I can't sleep unless I fuck, I get laid to rest
I’m not sleeping In the evening, thinking bout my death
About two weeks ago but Satan came to resurrect
He said I’m in his debt but watch what’s coming next (ahh!)