[Intro: Eminem, Royce da 5'9", Eminem & Royce da 5'9"]
Ayo (Ayy), this next song (This next song) is a true story (Is a true story) (Come here, bitch!) (Ah!)
'Cause some things in this universe don't make sense
But somehow always seem to fuckin' work
[Verse 1: Eminem]
Flying down I-75, 'bout to hop on 696
I look over, this fuckin' chick's tryna fix
Her makeup, I'm like, "Bitch, you ain't a plastic surgeon
I advise ya to put up your visor, I'm gettin' kinda ticked
You're blockin' my side mirror," she's like, "Yeah, so?"
I'm like, "So? You gon' need a stitch you keep acting like that, ho
I look like your husband, slut?" That's a rhetorical question
You talk to me like you talk to him, I'll fuck you up
In fact, get in the backseat, like the rest of my dates
No bitch rides shotgun; what? Taxi?
Stop and pick you some Maxi Pads up?
Is that what you actually ask me? *Smack*
Bitch reaches over and smacks me
Says I annoy the fuck out her, get the fuckin' bag
Put on your slut powder, you slut, what?
And shut the fuck up now, or get your feelings hurt
Worse than my last chick when I accidentally butt dialed her
And she heard me spreadin' AIDS rumors about her
Turn the radio up louder, make it thump
While I bump that Relapse CD
Tryna hit every bump in that cunt
Thought I snapped back into accents
'Cause she kept asking me to quit calling her "cunt"
I said, "I can't!" She said
Ayo (Ayy), this next song (This next song) is a true story (Is a true story) (Come here, bitch!) (Ah!)
'Cause some things in this universe don't make sense
But somehow always seem to fuckin' work
[Verse 1: Eminem]
Flying down I-75, 'bout to hop on 696
I look over, this fuckin' chick's tryna fix
Her makeup, I'm like, "Bitch, you ain't a plastic surgeon
I advise ya to put up your visor, I'm gettin' kinda ticked
You're blockin' my side mirror," she's like, "Yeah, so?"
I'm like, "So? You gon' need a stitch you keep acting like that, ho
I look like your husband, slut?" That's a rhetorical question
You talk to me like you talk to him, I'll fuck you up
In fact, get in the backseat, like the rest of my dates
No bitch rides shotgun; what? Taxi?
Stop and pick you some Maxi Pads up?
Is that what you actually ask me? *Smack*
Bitch reaches over and smacks me
Says I annoy the fuck out her, get the fuckin' bag
Put on your slut powder, you slut, what?
And shut the fuck up now, or get your feelings hurt
Worse than my last chick when I accidentally butt dialed her
And she heard me spreadin' AIDS rumors about her
Turn the radio up louder, make it thump
While I bump that Relapse CD
Tryna hit every bump in that cunt
Thought I snapped back into accents
'Cause she kept asking me to quit calling her "cunt"
I said, "I can't!" She said
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