Rap God (Mr. Cii Remix)

"Look, I was gonna go easy on you not to hurt your feelings"

"But I'm only going to get this one chance" (Six minutes— Six minutes—)

"Something's wrong, I can feel it" (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on!)

"Just a feeling I've got, like something's about to happen, but I don't know what

If that means what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble;

And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances"

"You are just what the doc ordered"

I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

They said I rap like a robot, so call me Rap-bot

But for me to rap like a computer it must be in my genes

I got a laptop in my back pocket

My pen'll go off when I half-cock it

Got a fat knot from that rap profit

Made a livin' and a killin' off it

Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office

With Monica Lewinsky feelin' on his nutsack

I'm an MC still as honest

But as rude and as indecent as all hell

Syllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with)

This flippity dippity-hippity hip-hop

You don't really wanna get into a pissin' match

With this rappity brat, packin' a MAC in the back of the Ac'

Backpack rap crap, yap-yap, yackety-yack

And at the exact same time, I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicin' that

I'll still be able to break a mother****in' table

Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half

Only realized it was ironic, I was signed to Aftermath after the fact

How could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs

Feel my wrath of attack

Rappers are havin' a rough time period, here's a maxi pad

It's actually disastrously bad for the wack

While I'm masterfully constructing this masterpièce

'Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

Let me show you maintainin' this shit ain't that hard, that hard

Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like Ι have got

Well, to be truthful the blueprint's

Simply rage and youthful exuberance

Everybody loves to root for a nuisance

Hit the Earth like an asteroid

Did nothing but shoot for the Moon since (Pew!)

MCs get taken to school with this music

'Cause I use it as a vehicle to "bus the rhyme"

Now I lead a new school full of students

Me? I'm a product of Rakim

Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac, N.W.A, Cube, hey Doc, Ren

Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim

Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position

To meet Run–D.M.C., induct them

Into the mother****in' Rock and Roll Hall of Fame

Even though I'll walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames

Only Hall of Fame I'll be inducted in is the alcohol of fame

On the wall of shame

You fags think it's all a game, 'til I walk a flock of flames

Off a plank and, tell me what in the **** are you thinkin'?

Little gay-lookin' boy

So gay I can barely say it with a straight face, lookin' boy (Ha-ha!)

You're witnessin' a mass-occur

Like you're watching a church gathering take place, lookin' boy

"Oy vey, that boy's gay!"—that's all they say, lookin' boy

You get a thumbs up, pat on the back

And a "way to go" from your label every day, lookin' boy

Hey, lookin' boy! What you say, lookin' boy?

I get a "hell yeah" from Dre, lookin' boy

I'ma work for everything I have, never asked nobody for shit

Get outta my face, lookin' boy!

Basically, boy, you're never gonna be capable

Of keepin' up with the same pace, lookin' boy, 'cause—

I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

The way I'm racin' around the track, call me NASCAR, NASCAR

Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God

Kneel before General Zod

This planet's Krypton—no, Asgard, Asgard

So you'll be Thor and I'll be Odin

You rodent, I'm omnipotent

Let off, then I'm reloadin'

Immediately with these bombs I'm totin'

And I should not be woken

I'm the walkin' dead, but I'm just a talkin' head, a zombie floatin'

But I got your mom deep-throatin'

I'm out my Ramen Noodle

We have nothin' in common, poodle

I'm a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil

It's me, my honesty's brutal

But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though

For good at least once in a while

So I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle enough rhymes

To maybe try to help get some people through tough times

But I gotta keep a few punchlines

Just in case 'cause even you unsigned

Rappers are hungry lookin' at me like it's lunchtime

I know there was a time where once I

Was king of the underground

But I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind

So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine

Appeal with the skin color of mine

You get too big and here they come tryin'

To censor you like that one line

I said on "I'm Back" from The Mathers LP 1 when I

Tried to say I'll take seven kids from Columbine

Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a 9

See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was, but I'm

Morphin' into an immortal, comin' through the portal

You're stuck in a time warp from 2004 though

And I don't know what the **** that you rhyme for

You're pointless as Rapunzel with ****in' cornrows

You write normal? **** being normal!

And I just bought a new raygun from the future

Just to come and shoot ya, like when Fabolous made Ray J mad

'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Mayweather's pad

Singin' to a man while he played piano

Man, oh man, that was a 24/7 special on the cable channel

So Ray J went straight to the radio station

The very next day, "Hey Fab, I'ma kill you!"

Lyrics comin' at you at supersonic speed (J.J. Fad)

Uh, summa-lumma, dooma-lumma, you assumin' I'm a human

What I gotta do to get it through to you I'm superhuman?

Innovative and I'm made of rubber so that anything you say is ricochetin' off of me and it'll glue to you and

I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating

How to give a mother****in' audience a feeling like it's levitating

Never fading, and I know the haters are forever waiting

For the day that they can say I fell off, they'll be celebrating

'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

"Oh, he's too mainstream."

Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it

"It's not hip-hop, it's pop,"—'cause I found a hella way to fuse it

With rock, shock rap with Doc

Throw on "Lose Yourself" and make 'em lose it

"I don't know how to make songs like that

I don't know what words to use."

Let me know when it occurs to you

While I'm rippin' any one of these verses that versus you

It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurtin' you

How many verses I gotta murder to

Prove that if you were half as nice, your songs you could sacrifice virgins too?!

Ugh, school flunky, pill junkie

But look at the accolades these skills brung me

Full of myself, but still hungry

I bully myself 'cause I make me do what I put my mind to

And I'm a million leagues above you

Ill when I speak in tongues, but it's still tongue-in-cheek, **** you

I'm drunk, so, Satan, take the ****ing wheel

I'ma sleep in the front seat

Bumpin' Heavy D and the Boyz, still "Chunky but Funky"

But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling

Angels fight with devils and here's what they want from me

They're askin' me to eliminate some of the women hate

But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred

I have, then you may be a little patient

And more sympathetic to the situation

And understand the discrimination

But **** it, life's handin' you lemons? Make lemonade then!

But if I can't batter the women

How the **** am I supposed to bake them a cake then?!

Don't mistake him for Satan; it's a fatal mistake

If you think I need to be overseas and take a vacation

To trip a broad, and make her fall on her face and

Don't be a retard—be a king? Think not

Why be a king when you can be a god?