Eminem feat. DJ Premier - Book of Rhymes

[Intro] I don't smile, I don't frown, get two up or get two down I was here, so were you, you came and went, I stuck around Still here now, stop me how? Your opinion's like a broken calculator, that shit doesn't count Shut your motherfucking mouth [Chorus] I'm emptyin' my book of rhymes (My book of rhymes) Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had I said, I'm emptyin' my book of rhymes (My book of rhymes) Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had [Verse 1] Haven't used all the tricks I have, so like my balls, I'm in my bag I get a little testy when I'm mad, sick of wrestlin' this iPad Unsuccessfully I might add, and I know it's best to lеave it live But evеn I get obsessed with readin' everything And let it get the best of me 'til I smash But I need to get off the internet (Get off the internet) I need to get on the mic (Get on the mic) You need to get off the internet (Internet), you need to get you a life Why you waste time just to comment on shit? (Comment on shit) 'Specially shit you don't like (Shit you don't like) Don't like it, don't listen, but don't tell me about your favorite rapper if it's some shit he didn't write What happened to Slim? He was no cap with the pen He used to rap like the people this music was for He was exactly like them Since he used to be poor, why can't he tap into him? Can't use that excuse anymore He's mad at the wind, he's in a nuclear war With the cloud he's yelling "At it again" I talk to your mother, she told me she love me All she wanna do is just hold me and hug me Wants nobody but me, she showed me the duggy Can I get a witness like notary public? She said kicks some fly shit (Fly shit) I said I got wings on my ass (Wings on my ass) Told her my dick's a cockpit (Dick's a cockpit) I fly by the seat of my pants (Seat of my pants) Sinful thoughts, this beat is crazy, this shit's retarded This Instr-is-mental, too many bars, incidental charges When did it start? I been cold hearted in this heart Since kindergarten, mental sharpness Which made Simmoll walk, and Denice soft, bitch, I invented flossin' Yeah, I used to wonder where my next meal's gonna come from Now, I just wonder where my next mill's gonna come from I cannot have no success, unless when I finally make it I get to remind all the haters, who shitted on me when I'm on my way up My floor is y'all fool's ceilings If I was you, I would step or find yourself twisted That's how you'll wind up like spiral stairs I will swear on a stack of Bibles I will tear new behinds out of rivals, even your idols I don't care, it's Music To Be Murdered By So bottle back and swallow a fucking Ja Rule bobblehead Then die slow like old times (Ha-ha) Low sniper, I hold the micro-phone like a loaded rifle My dome's brighter, all I spit from my skull is fire All that's missing's a motorcycle with the chrome wires, smoke tires and Y'all are a flow biters, so I don't gotta explain why they call me a ghostwriter [Chorus] I'm emptyin' my book of rhymes (My book of rhymes) Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had I said, I'm emptyin' my book of rhymes (My book of rhymes) Get 'em all off my pad, every thought that I had [Verse 2] (Illa) Haven't used all the tricks I had, so like my balls, it's in my bag I tend to get a little testy when I'm mad But gifted gathered, the pen to pad Turn temper tantrums into anthems Put lips to ass and kiss the cracks Spit your damn, bitch, you're still gonna hit the canvas Rippin' rappers that are Insta whippersnappers Mr. Mathers is killin' this shit, illin' and whippin' Syllables rip the planet, biblical shit's gonna hit the fan Anybody wanna go tit for tat's gonna get hit with that Then the amygdala hippocampus Gonna trigger the ignoramus To think of the most ridiculous shit then spit Then pin it against these pitiful rappers Insidious, these idiots witty as shit, against me, shitty as MC Hammers Put your whole squad, send a task force in If you want it, you're 'bout to get what you asked for Then put your helmet on, strap your chin You're 'bout to get you a crash course in Who not to start a motherfuckin' rap war with Or to go against, fuck you wanna do that for? No offense, but are you retard, slow or dense? A fuckin' penny has more sense Yeah, now you gotta get killed, but it's not a big deal But every thought is so ill and so methodical Thought I swallowed a pill, I'm startin' to feel like I'm an automobile With Barnacle Bill inside the car at the wheel Inside a carnival, 'cause I'm plowin' into everyone who wrote snotty articles And that explains why the fuck you clowns are all in my grill Joy and pain, fortune, fame, torture, shame Choice I made, swore someday The world'll pay, less to lose, more to gain Daughter's raised, yesterday, glory days, adored and praised Ignore the hate, address the fake Toured with Dre, tore a page from Jordan king Destroyed the game, before you came, enjoy your stay Before it's gone away, but the more you claim That you're gonna point and aim If you join the game, your shit isn't goin' to bang You're just boring, lame and more the same You have an enormous chain, but a storm-less brain The most you can conform is rain Your shit is pointless, shame as a scoreless game So, bitch, quit lyin', your denyin' like Mr. Porter's name Borderline bipolar disorder since my stroller Eyes rollin' back in my skull, it get lot harder Fire motor [?] or I load up, I order my motor, mouth This is my note to self Sometimes you're gonna bomb So you might just have to blow yourself up with no one's help I just wrote it down in my book of rhymes Premo, take us out [Outro] Writin' in my book of rhymes My book of rhymes, my book of rhymes I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm eastside Writin' in my book of rhymes My book of rhymes, my book of rhymes I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm, I'm eastside