Almost Famous

I can almost taste it

This shit makes no sense to me

What does it all mean?

I can almost taste it

I can almost see it

This shit makes no sense to me

What does it all mean?

I can almost taste it

Yeah, can't stop now (I can almost taste it)

This may be the last chance I get to be famous (I just wanna be famous)

You dream of trading places

I have been changing faces

You cannot fill these shoes

There is too much to lose

Wake up behind these trenches

You run around defenseless

There is too much to lose

You cannot fill these shoes (I just wanna be famous, but)

Be careful what you wish for

I stuck my dick in this game like a rapist

They call me Slim Roethlisberger

I go berserker than a fed-up post office worker

I murk her with a Mossberg, I'm pissed off, get murdered

I'm pissed off, get murdered

Like someone took a ketchup squirter, squirted a frankfurter

Squirted a frankfurter

For a gangsta, you sure did shit your pants

When you saw the chainsaw get to wavin' like a terrible towel

How things turn around when his fangs come out

Get your brains blown out

That's what I call blowin' your mind

When I come back, like nut on your spine

I'm the thumbtack that you slept on, son

Now here I come screamin' "Attack"

Like I just stepped on one

Low on the totem, till he showed 'em

Defiance, giant scrotum

He don't owe them bitches shit

His britches, he out-growed 'em

He's so out cold, he's knocked out at the South Pole

And nobody fucks with 'em, rigor mortis and post-mortem

He's dyin' of boredom

Take your best rhymes, record 'em to try to thwart him

He'll just take your punchlines and snort 'em

Shit-stained drawers, you gon' fuck with a guy

Who licks the blades of his chainsaws

While he dips 'em in P.F. Chang sauce?

Game's up, homie, hang it up like some crank calls

You think I'm backin' down?

You must be out of your dang skulls

I'm almost famous

You dream of trading places

I have been changing faces

You cannot fill these shoes

There is too much to lose

Wake up behind these trenches

You run around defenseless

There is too much to lose

You cannot fill these shoes (I just wanna be famous, but)

Be careful what you wish for

I'm back for revenge, I lost a battle

That ain't happenin' again

I'm at your throat like strep

I step, strapped with a pen

Metaphors wrote on my hand

Some are just stored in my memory

Some I wrote on a napkin

I do what I have to to win

Pullin' out all stops, any who touch a mic, priors

Not even Austin Powers

How the fuck are they Mike Myers?

And tell that psycho to pass the torch to the wacko

'Fore I take a shit in his jack-o-lantern

And smash it on his porch

Now get off my dick

"Dick"'s too short of a word for my dick

Get off my antidisestablishmentarianism, you prick

Don't call me the champ

Call me the space shuttle destroyer

I just blew up the Challenger

Matter of fact, I need a lawyer

I just laced my gloves with enough plaster to make a cast

Beat his ass naked and peed in his corner like Verne Troyer

Y'all are Eminem backwards, you're Mini Me's

See, he's in a whole 'nother weight class

He's slugs, you're bebe's, you're bean-bag bullets

You're full of it, you were dissin' his CD's

Laughed at Infinite

Now he's back like someone pissed in his Wheaties

No peace treaties, he's turned into a beast

His new Slim Shady EP's got the attention

Of the mighty D-R-E

He's almost famous

You dream of trading places

I have been changing faces

You cannot fill these shoes

There is too much to lose

Wake up behind these trenches

You run around defenseless

There is too much to lose

You cannot fill these shoes (I just wanna be famous, but)

Be careful what you wish for

Now there he goes in Dre's studio

Cuppin' his balls

Screamin' the wood off the panelin'

Cussin' the pain off the walls

Spewin' his hate to these haters

Showin' no love for these broads

He ain't givin' them shit

He says he'll pinch a penny so hard

He'll leave a bruise on the bronze

So dark you can see the mark with the scars

Till Abraham Lincoln is screamin' out "Ahh!"

These metaphors and similes

Ain't similar to them, not at all

If they don't like it, they can all get fucked

Instead of suckin' him off

They can go get a belt or a necktie

To hang themselves by

Like David Carradine, they can go fuck themselves and just die

And eat shit while they at it, he's fuckin' had it

He's mad at the whole world

So go to hell and build a snowman, girl

The bullies become bullied

And pussies get pushed

Then they better pull me

Take me back to 9th grade to school me

'Cause I ain't lookin' back, only forward

This whole spot blowin'

Who coulda known he'd grow to be a poet and not know it?

And while I'm bein' poetic, let me get it stoic and raise the bar

Higher than my opinion of these women's been lowered

So bear witness to some biblical shit

There's a cold wind blowin'

This world ain't gonna know what hit it

He did, he made it

He's finally famous