Eminem - Rap God (Lyrics) Chords

_ _ _ Look, I was going to go easy on you, not to hurt your feelings, but I'm only going to get this one chance. _ _
You all, I can feel it.
It's just, I feel like _ _ something's about to happen, but I don't know what.
If that ain't what I think it means, we're in trouble.
Big trouble.
And if he is bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances.
You're just one of the God-awful-
I'm beginning to feel like a rat nut, rat nut.
All my people from the front to the back nut, back nut.
Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slash, slash, slash?
They said I rap like a robot, so call me rat.
But for me to rap like a computer must be in my jeans.
I got a laptop in my back pocket, my pinnacle off when I hat cock it.
Got a fat knot from that rat profit, may not even end a killing off it.
Ever since Phil Cling, ooh, still in office.
Slick mind like a low-end ski, feeling on his nutsack.
I'm an MC, still as honest, but as rude and as indecent as all hell.
Kill em all.
This hibbity-gibbity-hibbity hip-hop, you don't really want to get into a few shenanigans with this rap.
Ready rat pack and a mac in the back, giddy yak, yak, yak, rap, rap, yap, yap, yak, giddy yak, nap.
The exact same time I attempt these lyrical acrobats, don't swallow practice.
And that'll still be able to break a motherfucking table over the back of a couple of faggots that crack at an ass.
Only realized it was ironic I was under aftermath after the fact.
How could I not blow?
All I do is drop F-bombs.
Demo rap, the Batac rappers are having a rough time, period.
Here's a Mac-2 pad, actually, disastrously bad.
For the rat, for the master, deconstructing this masterpiece.
I'm beginning to feel like a rap god.
_ All my people from the front to the back, nah, back, nah.
Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap?
_ Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that fun.
Everybody wants a key and a secret to rap immortality like I have not.
Well, the big truth with a blueprint, stupid page and you feel like Zooprint.
Everybody loves to work for a nuisance, hit the earth like an asteroid,
need nothing but heat for the moon sense.
MCs get taken to school, just music, cause I use it as a vehicle to bust the rhyme.
Now I lead a new school full of students.
Me, I'm a product of Rakim, Rakim, Sebastian, Rakim.
W-A-Q-A dot ring, y'all are easy, thank you, they got Slims.
Inspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position
to meet one [G] DMC and induct him into the [Gm] motherfucking Rakim.
The hall of fame, even though I walk in the church in person,
a ball of flame, only hall of fame I be inducted in is the alcohol of fame on the wall of shame.
You fags think it's all in pain, tell a walker flock of flames.
Half a pint, kid, tell me what in the fuck did you take, kid?
Little [A] gay looking boy, so gay I can barely say it with [Eb] a straight face looking boy.
You witnessing a massacre, like you're watching a church gathering, take close looking [Gm] boy.
Boys, gay that boys gay, that's all they say looking boy.
You get a thumbs up hat on the back and a way to go from your label to be gay looking boy.
Hey looking boy, what you say looking boy?
I get a hell yes, I'm a tray looking boy.
I'm a work boy, everything I have never asked nobody to shit, get out my face looking boy.
Basically boy, you never gonna be capable of keeping up with the same pace looking boy.
I'm beginning to feel like a rap god, rap [G] god.
All my people from the front to the back, nah, back, nah.
The way I'm racing around the track call me Nasta, Nasta.
There in heart of the trailer park a white trash [Gm] guard.
Meal before dinner, Ozad, this plan is Krypton.
No Asgard, Asgard.
Since you be throwing, I be holding, you be floating, I'm omnipotent.
Let off and I'm reloading, immediately with the bombs I'm toting.
And I should not be walking, I'm the walking dead, but I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating.
But I got your mom defloating, I'm out my ramen noodle.
We have nothing in common, poodle.
I'm a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm.
If Hay-Hammer's pupil, me.
_ My honesty's brutal, but it's honestly futile [G] if I don't utilize what I do, though.
But at least once in a while, so I wanna make [Gm] sure somewhere in this chicken crap shop scribble and doodle.
Enough rhyme stuff, maybe try to help get some people through tough times.
But I gotta keep a few punchlines, just in case it's even you unsigned.
Rappers are hungry, looking at me like it's lunchtime.
I know there was a time where one side was king of the underground,
but I still rap like I'm on my Pharaoh month grind.
So I quench rhymes, but sometimes when you combine,
up here with the skin color of mine, you get too big and it becomes primed. _ _
_ I'm back on the map, there's LP1 when I'm tried.
Just say I take seven kids from Columbine.
Put them all in a line, got an AK-47, a revolver and a knife.
See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was, but I'm_
Marching into an immortal, coming through the portal.
You're stuck in a time warp from 2004, though.
And I don't [G] know what the fuck that you like, boy.
You're pointless as Rapunzel [Bb] with fucking [Cm] cornrows.
You like normal, fuck being [Gm] normal.
And I just bought a new ray gun on the future just to come and shoot some.
I like when cabinets made Ray J mad.
His dad said he looked like a fag and they were just passing him to him.
Man, I'll be paid to say, you know.
Man, oh man, that was a 24-second sped-through on the cable channel.
So Ray J went straight to the radio station the very next day.
Hey, fag, I'ma kill you.
Lyrics coming at you with supersonic speed.
JJ Fox.
I'm a llama, do my llama, you assume I'm a human.
What I gotta do to get it through to you?
I'm superhuman, innovative, and I made it rubber.
So that anything you say is ficcushing off of me and it'll glue to you.
I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating how to give a motherfucking audience a feeling like it's levitating.
I'm never fading and I know the haters are forever waiting for the day that they can say I fell off.
They'll be celebrating because I know the way to get them 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, because I found a color way to fuse it.
Swift rock, shock rap, quick talk.
Someone moves your stuff, I make them 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 ripping any one of these verses that versus you.
It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurting you.
How many verses I gotta murder to prove that if you were half as nice in songs, you could sacrifice virgins [G] to, ah, school.
Plunk, pill junk, but look at the Yakim, they do skills.
Broly, full of myself, but still hungry.
I bully myself because I make me do what I put my mind to when I'm a [Gm] million leagues above.
Ill when I speak in tongues, but it's still tongue and cheek.
Fuck you, I'm drunk.
Satan, take the fucking wheel.
I'm all sleep in the front, so drumping heavy in the voice.
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 asking me to eliminate some of the women hate, but if you're taking the consideration,
the bitter hate's what I have, then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic to the situation and understand the discrimination.
But fuck it, life's hanging in your limits, make remuneration.
But if I can't battle the women, how the fuck am I supposed to bake them a chank then?
No mistake, it's a fatal mistake.
You think I need to be overseas and take a vacation.
This trip abroad and make a hole in her face and don't be a retard.
Be a king?
Think not.
Why be a king when you can be a god? _ _ _ _ _ _