[Eminem:]
This motherf*cker here, just won't shut up will you?
Talk about I owe you, bitch you owe me
I'm promoting you right now
Yo let's put the nail in his coffin
[Chorus:]
I don't want to be like this
I don't really want to hurt no feelins
But I'm only bein real when I say nobody wants to hear their grandfather rap (nope)
And old men have heart attacks
And I don't want to be responsible for that so
Put the mic down and walk away
You can still have a little bit of dignity
[Verse 1:]
I would never claim to be no Ray Benzino
An 83 year old fake Pacino
So how can he hold me over some balcony
Without throwin his lower back out as soon as he goes to lift me
Please don't, youl probably fall with me
And our asses will both be history
But then again you'll finally get your wish
Cause you be all over the street like 50 Cent
F*ckin punk pussy f*ck you chump
Gimme a one-on-one see if I don't f*ck you up
Tryin to jump the Ruff Ryders and they cut you up
And you put Jada on a track that's how much you suck
Dick in the industry, swear that you in the streets hustlin
You sit behind a f*ckin desk at The Source butt-kissin
And beggin motherf*ckers for guest appearences
And you can even get the clearances cause real lyricists
Don't even respect you or take you serious
It's not that we don't like you, we hate you - period
Talk about a mid-life crisis damn
Last week you was shakin Obie Trice's hand
Now hes a busta? What the f*cks with that?
Get on a track dissin us kissin 50's ass
And askin me what I know about inditements-bite me
Bitch I got two cases, and probation - fight me!
What do I know about standin in front of a judge like a man
Ready to take whatever sentence he hands
What you know about your wife slicin her wrists
Right in front of the only thing that you have in this world - a little girl?
And I put that on her, when this is all over
I would never try to make her a star and eat off her
I don't know shit about no shoppin rocks
But what you know about hip-hop shops rockin spots?
When your the only white boy in that bitch just rippin
Pressin up your own flyers and your stickers stickin
Them bitches up after spendin six hours at Kinkos
Just makin copys of your covers of casette singles
To sell them out the trunk of your Tracer
Spendin your whole paychecks at Disc Makers
What you know about bein bullied over half your life?
Oh that's right, you **should** know what that's like, your half white
Vanilla Ice, spill the beans and rice, I'm eaten you alive inside
Jesus Christ, if your that much of a gangster, put the mic down
You should be out killin motherf*ckers right now
Kill a motherf*cker dead, kill'em dead bitch
Shoot'em in the f*ckin head, go ahead bitch
Slap my mom, slap the f*ck out of her!
She can't sue you, she wouldn't get a buck out of you
Cause your broke as f*ck you suck you're a f*ckin joke
If you was really sellin coke, well then what the f*ck
You stop for dummy? If you slew some crack
You'd make alot more money than you do from rap
You'll never had no security, you'll never be famous
You'l never now what it's like to be rich, lifes a bitch ain't it?
Raymond, here, let me break this shit down in lamens
Terms for you just to make sure that you can understand this
And Canibus ain't usin too many complicated f*ckin words for you
Here then let me slow it down for you
So you can understand if I say it slower:
Let it go dawg it's over
[Chorus]
[Eminem: talkin]
Haha
Talkin bout I have motherf*ckers callin your crib
Bitch you ain't even got a f*ckin crib
You ain't even got a f*ckin phone
F*ckin punk, threatening to shut me down at your f*ckin lil' source magazine
If I come back & want me to attack you, bitch you attacked me first
Take it like a man and shut the f*ck up
And f*ck your little magazine too
I don't need your little f*ckin magazine, I got XXL's number anywayz
And ya'll can't stand it cause their gettin bigger than ya'll
Oh, and by the way, how'd I look on the VMAs?
When you was watchin me from whatever f*ckin TV you was watchin me from in
Boston
The mean streets of Boston, f*ckin sissy
And you got us scared up in here motherf*cker, suck our motherf*ckin dicks
Oh, and for those that don't know, don't get it twisted yo... The Source has a
White owner!
Eminem - Nail In The Coffin Lyrics
Eminem - Nail In The Coffin Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
[Eminem:]
This motherf*cker here, just won't shut up will you?
Talk about I owe you, bitch you owe me
I'm promoting you right now
Yo let's put the nail in his coffin
[Chorus:]
I don't want to be like this
I don't really want to hurt no feelins
But I'm only bein real when I say nobody wants to hear their grandfather rap (nope)
And old men have heart attacks
And I don't want to be responsible for that so
Put the mic down and walk away
You can still have a little bit of dignity
[Verse 1:]
I would never claim to be no Ray Benzino
An 83 year old fake Pacino
So how can he hold me over some balcony
Without throwin his lower back out as soon as he goes to lift me
Please don't, youl probably fall with me
And our asses will both be history
But then again you'll finally get your wish
Cause you be all over the street like 50 Cent
F*ckin punk pussy f*ck you chump
Gimme a one-on-one see if I don't f*ck you up
Tryin to jump the Ruff Ryders and they cut you up
And you put Jada on a track that's how much you suck
Dick in the industry, swear that you in the streets hustlin
You sit behind a f*ckin desk at The Source butt-kissin
And beggin motherf*ckers for guest appearences
And you can even get the clearances cause real lyricists
Don't even respect you or take you serious
It's not that we don't like you, we hate you - period
Talk about a mid-life crisis damn
Last week you was shakin Obie Trice's hand
Now hes a busta? What the f*cks with that?
Get on a track dissin us kissin 50's ass
And askin me what I know about inditements-bite me
Bitch I got two cases, and probation - fight me!
What do I know about standin in front of a judge like a man
Ready to take whatever sentence he hands
What you know about your wife slicin her wrists
Right in front of the only thing that you have in this world - a little girl?
And I put that on her, when this is all over
I would never try to make her a star and eat off her
I don't know shit about no shoppin rocks
But what you know about hip-hop shops rockin spots?
When your the only white boy in that bitch just rippin
Pressin up your own flyers and your stickers stickin
Them bitches up after spendin six hours at Kinkos
Just makin copys of your covers of casette singles
To sell them out the trunk of your Tracer
Spendin your whole paychecks at Disc Makers
What you know about bein bullied over half your life?
Oh that's right, you **should** know what that's like, your half white
Vanilla Ice, spill the beans and rice, I'm eaten you alive inside
Jesus Christ, if your that much of a gangster, put the mic down
You should be out killin motherf*ckers right now
Kill a motherf*cker dead, kill'em dead bitch
Shoot'em in the f*ckin head, go ahead bitch
Slap my mom, slap the f*ck out of her!
She can't sue you, she wouldn't get a buck out of you
Cause your broke as f*ck you suck you're a f*ckin joke
If you was really sellin coke, well then what the f*ck
You stop for dummy? If you slew some crack
You'd make alot more money than you do from rap
You'll never had no security, you'll never be famous
You'l never now what it's like to be rich, lifes a bitch ain't it?
Raymond, here, let me break this shit down in lamens
Terms for you just to make sure that you can understand this
And Canibus ain't usin too many complicated f*ckin words for you
Here then let me slow it down for you
So you can understand if I say it slower:
Let it go dawg it's over
[Chorus]
[Eminem: talkin]
Haha
Talkin bout I have motherf*ckers callin your crib
Bitch you ain't even got a f*ckin crib
You ain't even got a f*ckin phone
F*ckin punk, threatening to shut me down at your f*ckin lil' source magazine
If I come back & want me to attack you, bitch you attacked me first
Take it like a man and shut the f*ck up
And f*ck your little magazine too
I don't need your little f*ckin magazine, I got XXL's number anywayz
And ya'll can't stand it cause their gettin bigger than ya'll
Oh, and by the way, how'd I look on the VMAs?
When you was watchin me from whatever f*ckin TV you was watchin me from in
Boston
The mean streets of Boston, f*ckin sissy
And you got us scared up in here motherf*cker, suck our motherf*ckin dicks
Oh, and for those that don't know, don't get it twisted yo... The Source has a
White owner!
This motherf*cker here, just won't shut up will you?
Talk about I owe you, bitch you owe me
I'm promoting you right now
Yo let's put the nail in his coffin
[Chorus:]
I don't want to be like this
I don't really want to hurt no feelins
But I'm only bein real when I say nobody wants to hear their grandfather rap (nope)
And old men have heart attacks
And I don't want to be responsible for that so
Put the mic down and walk away
You can still have a little bit of dignity
[Verse 1:]
I would never claim to be no Ray Benzino
An 83 year old fake Pacino
So how can he hold me over some balcony
Without throwin his lower back out as soon as he goes to lift me
Please don't, youl probably fall with me
And our asses will both be history
But then again you'll finally get your wish
Cause you be all over the street like 50 Cent
F*ckin punk pussy f*ck you chump
Gimme a one-on-one see if I don't f*ck you up
Tryin to jump the Ruff Ryders and they cut you up
And you put Jada on a track that's how much you suck
Dick in the industry, swear that you in the streets hustlin
You sit behind a f*ckin desk at The Source butt-kissin
And beggin motherf*ckers for guest appearences
And you can even get the clearances cause real lyricists
Don't even respect you or take you serious
It's not that we don't like you, we hate you - period
Talk about a mid-life crisis damn
Last week you was shakin Obie Trice's hand
Now hes a busta? What the f*cks with that?
Get on a track dissin us kissin 50's ass
And askin me what I know about inditements-bite me
Bitch I got two cases, and probation - fight me!
What do I know about standin in front of a judge like a man
Ready to take whatever sentence he hands
What you know about your wife slicin her wrists
Right in front of the only thing that you have in this world - a little girl?
And I put that on her, when this is all over
I would never try to make her a star and eat off her
I don't know shit about no shoppin rocks
But what you know about hip-hop shops rockin spots?
When your the only white boy in that bitch just rippin
Pressin up your own flyers and your stickers stickin
Them bitches up after spendin six hours at Kinkos
Just makin copys of your covers of casette singles
To sell them out the trunk of your Tracer
Spendin your whole paychecks at Disc Makers
What you know about bein bullied over half your life?
Oh that's right, you **should** know what that's like, your half white
Vanilla Ice, spill the beans and rice, I'm eaten you alive inside
Jesus Christ, if your that much of a gangster, put the mic down
You should be out killin motherf*ckers right now
Kill a motherf*cker dead, kill'em dead bitch
Shoot'em in the f*ckin head, go ahead bitch
Slap my mom, slap the f*ck out of her!
She can't sue you, she wouldn't get a buck out of you
Cause your broke as f*ck you suck you're a f*ckin joke
If you was really sellin coke, well then what the f*ck
You stop for dummy? If you slew some crack
You'd make alot more money than you do from rap
You'll never had no security, you'll never be famous
You'l never now what it's like to be rich, lifes a bitch ain't it?
Raymond, here, let me break this shit down in lamens
Terms for you just to make sure that you can understand this
And Canibus ain't usin too many complicated f*ckin words for you
Here then let me slow it down for you
So you can understand if I say it slower:
Let it go dawg it's over
[Chorus]
[Eminem: talkin]
Haha
Talkin bout I have motherf*ckers callin your crib
Bitch you ain't even got a f*ckin crib
You ain't even got a f*ckin phone
F*ckin punk, threatening to shut me down at your f*ckin lil' source magazine
If I come back & want me to attack you, bitch you attacked me first
Take it like a man and shut the f*ck up
And f*ck your little magazine too
I don't need your little f*ckin magazine, I got XXL's number anywayz
And ya'll can't stand it cause their gettin bigger than ya'll
Oh, and by the way, how'd I look on the VMAs?
When you was watchin me from whatever f*ckin TV you was watchin me from in
Boston
The mean streets of Boston, f*ckin sissy
And you got us scared up in here motherf*cker, suck our motherf*ckin dicks
Oh, and for those that don't know, don't get it twisted yo... The Source has a
White owner!