Eminem x Stan全部歌词 高级纯棉T恤 购买

Slim Shady说唱的过程中又玩新花样，rap到一半beat直接消掉单挑，后面diss了mumble rappers：“Stampin’ out grasshoppers, you can’t be no Rap Gods / In fact you’re exact opposites / You make a wack song, and can’t hold a candle…The boom bap is coming back with an axe to mumble rap.“ 很不客气地羞辱 ，real HipHop回来屠杀你们这些搞mumble rap的说唱歌手。Shady看不爽mumble rap很久了，这次出了一口恶气。 Bad Meets Evil呈现的就是这个味儿。

阿姆的那段歌词：
[Verse 3: Eminem]
You’re looking at Atilla, the psychopathic killer, the caterpillar
Don’t tell me when I’m supposed to rap until, uh
Especially when your favorite rapper ain’t even half as ill
A savage still, the track’s a banana peel, attack at a silver-back gorilla
You’re havin’ a little trouble fathomin’ this is actually happenin’
Like Anderson Silva back when he snapped his shin in half
And then had the shit hangin’ by a flap of skin
After he tried to plant the shit back on the mat again
Pad to pen I’m batty like eyelids when they’re blinkin’ a lot
You copy me, but you’re not
You can’t be butterflies, my offsprings are just moths
I see that thing I’ma squash it and rip the wings of it off
So ring the alarm, pull the extinguishers off of the wall
Set the sprinklers off like Jada Pinkett and Queen Latifah
‘Till the shingles come off the roof we’ll shout at the ceiling
Slaughterhouse in the building, middle fingers aloft
Say what I think when I rhyme, in ink-pen I talk
And the language I speak is my mind
Kingpin and Penguin combined
Spit like it’s King of the Dot
A singular thought I think of will help you distinguish apart
The frauds from the cream of the crop
(Wait a minute) Hold up like a flashcard
Damn dawg, is that copyin’ or payin’ homage?
It’s sad because dad taught you to rap as a damn toddler
My dad is your grandfather, I’ll have to re-hatch on you
Come back as black wasp, half yellow jacket, you can’t swat a
Sasquatch dancing on top of an ant trample it and stomp it
Smash it and stand on it, dammit, I can’t stop it
The rap is a vag’ and I’m goin’ in like a tampon in this bitch
It’s a manslaughter
Stampin’ out grasshoppers, you can’t be no Rap Gods
In fact you’re exact opposites, you make a wack song
And can’t hold a candle but even Daniel-son whacks off
You jack-offs need to come to grips like a hand job
The boom bap is coming back with an axe to mumble rap
Lumberjack with a hacksaw
Number one, but my pencils are number twos
‘Cause that’s all I dos with ’em, poop is my pseudonym
On the john like a prostitute when I’m droppin’ a deuce
And when I’m producing them lyrical bowel movements
These beats are like my saloons
‘Cause these bars always got my stools in ’em
And I don’t need Metamucil to loosen ’em
Bitch, shit is real like I pooped Jerusalem
I’m ’bout to go spin a cocoon
Then I’m cuttin’ you from your mother’s womb
Then I’m flushin’ you!

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