[Intro: Eminem]
I own a mansion but live in a house
A king-size bed but I sleep on the couch
I'm Mr. Brightside, glass is half-full
But my tank's half empty, gasket just blew
[Verse 1: Eminem]
This always happens
Thirty minutes from home, gotta lay a log cabin
Only option I have's McDonalds's bathroom
In a public stall, droppin' a football
So every time someone walks in the john, I get maddened
"Shady, what up?" What? Come on, man, I'm crappin'
And you're askin' 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 thought I'd be glad then
"Thanks, dawg! Name's Todd, a big fan"
I wiped my ass with it, crumbled it up in a wad and threw it back and
Told him: "Todd, you're the shit," when's all of this crap end?
Can't pump my gas without causin' an accident
Pump my gas, cut my grass, I can't take out the fuckin' trash
Without someone passin' through my sub, harassin'
I'd count my blessings, but I suck at math
I'd rather wallow than bask sufferin' succotash
But the ant-acid, it gives my stomach gas
When I mix my corn with my fuckin' mashed
Potatoes, so what? Ho, kiss my country bumpkin ass
Missouri Southern roots, what the fuck is upper class?
Call lunch dinner, call dinner supper
Tupperware in the cupboard, plasticware up the ass
Stuck in the past—iPod, what the fuck is that?
B-Boy to the core, mule, I'm a stubborn ass
I own a mansion but live in a house
A king-size bed but I sleep on the couch
I'm Mr. Brightside, glass is half-full
But my tank's half empty, gasket just blew
[Verse 1: Eminem]
This always happens
Thirty minutes from home, gotta lay a log cabin
Only option I have's McDonalds's bathroom
In a public stall, droppin' a football
So every time someone walks in the john, I get maddened
"Shady, what up?" What? Come on, man, I'm crappin'
And you're askin' 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 thought I'd be glad then
"Thanks, dawg! Name's Todd, a big fan"
I wiped my ass with it, crumbled it up in a wad and threw it back and
Told him: "Todd, you're the shit," when's all of this crap end?
Can't pump my gas without causin' an accident
Pump my gas, cut my grass, I can't take out the fuckin' trash
Without someone passin' through my sub, harassin'
I'd count my blessings, but I suck at math
I'd rather wallow than bask sufferin' succotash
But the ant-acid, it gives my stomach gas
When I mix my corn with my fuckin' mashed
Potatoes, so what? Ho, kiss my country bumpkin ass
Missouri Southern roots, what the fuck is upper class?
Call lunch dinner, call dinner supper
Tupperware in the cupboard, plasticware up the ass
Stuck in the past—iPod, what the fuck is that?
B-Boy to the core, mule, I'm a stubborn ass
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!