[Chorus: Sam Harris]
I'm gettin' by with my wicked ways
I'm loadin' up and I'm takin' names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
[Verse 1: Eminem]
Guess I got a way with words, I could get away with murder
Ever heard of Asperger's? It's a rare condition
It's what you're sufferin' from when you simply don't care if it's an
Eighty degree day and there's no frickin' air conditionin'
And you can't see the bitch's hair is frizzin'
'Cause you got the windows up, blarin' the system
In your Chevrolet Prizm
The devil ain't on a level same as him
Picture someone who revels in straight masochism
Then imagine him givin' an adjective an ass-whoopin'
So bad they should put his ass in prison
A word bully, I verbally abuse verbs
Like they did somethin' to me personally
Used to get bullied, so I'd cut class and ditch it
Now I bully rap, I'm the shit, faggot (Sniff it)
Cadillac from a K Car
My ass from a hole in the ground, still can't tell 'em apart
Came straight out the trailer park
Screamin', "I'm proud to shop at K-Mart," and it became art
And I'm still fed up and as pissed off as they are
To this day I still get in fights with the same broad
At the same Walmart, arguin' over the same cart
In the middle of the aisle, whilin', I don't give a fuck, I don't play
Bitch, you think you saw this basket first?
You're ass-backwards like motherfuckin' Bob and Silent Jay
Illest shit you could think I would say
Mind's like a pile of clay
When's the last time that you saw a villain with a cape
Ripped a gapin' hole in it, flipped out
Ripped down the drapes, tied 'em around my neck
Went down the fire escape of the Empire State (Oh)
Slipped, fell straight down to the ground
Splattered all over the entire state
And straight to hell, got impaled by the gates (Ooh)
Saw Satan, stuck his face in an ashtray
While I sashayed around flames with a match
And I gave him the gas face
And this ain't got nothin' to do with a scale
Or being gay, little faggot, but by the way
Thoughts are gettin' darker by the day
I'm a combination of Skylar Grey
Tyler, the Creator, and Violent J
It's a fuckin' miracle to be this lyrical
Paint my face with clown makeup and a smiley face
I'm insane, every rhyme I say
Suns you like an ultra-violet ray
I'm sellin' hatred, buffet style, all the shit you can eat
$11.99, so come on and pile a plate
I'm throwin' down the gauntlet to see what hell I can raise
With the rhyme I'm spittin' while I'm shittin' on competition
In the meantime, it's always mean time, I'm gettin'—
I'm gettin' by with my wicked ways
I'm loadin' up and I'm takin' names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
[Verse 1: Eminem]
Guess I got a way with words, I could get away with murder
Ever heard of Asperger's? It's a rare condition
It's what you're sufferin' from when you simply don't care if it's an
Eighty degree day and there's no frickin' air conditionin'
And you can't see the bitch's hair is frizzin'
'Cause you got the windows up, blarin' the system
In your Chevrolet Prizm
The devil ain't on a level same as him
Picture someone who revels in straight masochism
Then imagine him givin' an adjective an ass-whoopin'
So bad they should put his ass in prison
A word bully, I verbally abuse verbs
Like they did somethin' to me personally
Used to get bullied, so I'd cut class and ditch it
Now I bully rap, I'm the shit, faggot (Sniff it)
Cadillac from a K Car
My ass from a hole in the ground, still can't tell 'em apart
Came straight out the trailer park
Screamin', "I'm proud to shop at K-Mart," and it became art
And I'm still fed up and as pissed off as they are
To this day I still get in fights with the same broad
At the same Walmart, arguin' over the same cart
In the middle of the aisle, whilin', I don't give a fuck, I don't play
Bitch, you think you saw this basket first?
You're ass-backwards like motherfuckin' Bob and Silent Jay
Illest shit you could think I would say
Mind's like a pile of clay
When's the last time that you saw a villain with a cape
Ripped a gapin' hole in it, flipped out
Ripped down the drapes, tied 'em around my neck
Went down the fire escape of the Empire State (Oh)
Slipped, fell straight down to the ground
Splattered all over the entire state
And straight to hell, got impaled by the gates (Ooh)
Saw Satan, stuck his face in an ashtray
While I sashayed around flames with a match
And I gave him the gas face
And this ain't got nothin' to do with a scale
Or being gay, little faggot, but by the way
Thoughts are gettin' darker by the day
I'm a combination of Skylar Grey
Tyler, the Creator, and Violent J
It's a fuckin' miracle to be this lyrical
Paint my face with clown makeup and a smiley face
I'm insane, every rhyme I say
Suns you like an ultra-violet ray
I'm sellin' hatred, buffet style, all the shit you can eat
$11.99, so come on and pile a plate
I'm throwin' down the gauntlet to see what hell I can raise
With the rhyme I'm spittin' while I'm shittin' on competition
In the meantime, it's always mean time, I'm gettin'—
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