Singer: Eminem
|
Song: The Ringer
Eminem - The Ringer Subtitles (vtt) (05:38-338-0-en) (PARTIAL PREVIEW)
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WEBVTT
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by RentAnAdviser.com
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Yo, I'm just gonna write
down my first thoughts,
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and see where this takes
me, ’cause I feel like
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I wanna punch the world in the
fuckin' face right now, yeah!
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Let me explain just how
to make greatness
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Straight out the gate, I'm
’bout to break it down
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Ain't no mistakes allowed, but
make no mistake, I'm 'bout
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To rape the alphabet, I
may raise some brows
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If I press the issue just to
get the anger out (brrr)
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Full magazine could take Staples out
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Savage but ain't thinkin'
'bout no bank account
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But bitch, I'm off the
chain like Kala Brown
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Motherfucker, shut the fuck up
when I’m talkin’, lil' bitch
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I’m sorry, wait, what's your
talent? Oh, critiquin'
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My talent? Oh, bitch, I don't
know who the fuck y’all are
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To give a sub-par bar or even
have an opinion or view
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You mention me, millions of
views, attention in news
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I mention you, lose-lose
for me, win-win for you
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Billions of views, your
ten cents are two
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Skim through the music
to give shit reviews
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To get clicks, but bitch,
you just lit the fuse
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Don't get misconstrued,
business as us'
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Shit-list renewed, so get shit to do
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Or get dissed 'cause I just don't get
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What the fuck half the shit is
that you're listenin' to
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Do you have any idea how much
I hate this choppy flow
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Everyone copies though? Probably no
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Get this fuckin' audio
out my Audi yo, adiós
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I can see why people like Lil
Yachty, but not me though
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Not even dissin', it just ain't for me
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All I am simply is just an MC
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Maybe "Stan" just isn't your
cup of tea (get it)
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Maybe your cup's full
of syrup and lean
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Maybe I need to stir
up shit, preferably
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Shake the world up if it were up to me
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Paul wants me to chill,
y'all want me to ill
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I should eat a pill, probably I will
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Old me killed the new me,
watch him bleed to death
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I breathe on the mirror,
I don't see my breath
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Possibly I'm dead, I must be possessed
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Like an evil spell, I'm E-
V-I-L (evil, spelled)
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Jam a Crest Whitestrip
in the tip of my dick
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With an ice pick, stick
it in a vise grip
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Hang it on a spike fence, bang
it with a pipe wrench
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While I take my ballsack and flick
it like a light switch
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Like vice-president Mike Pence
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Back up on my shit in a sidekick
as I lay it on a spike strip
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These are things that I'd rather
do than hear you on a mic
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Since nine tenths of your
rhyme is about ice and
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Jesus Christ, man, how many times is
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Someone gonna fuck on my bitch?
(Fuck my side chick!)
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You won't ever see Em icy
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But as cold as I get on the M-I-C
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I polarize shit, so the
temps might freeze
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And your skull might split like
I bashed you upside it
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Bitch, I got the club on smash
like a nightstick (yeah)
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Turn down for what?
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I ain't loud enough, nah,
turn the Valium up!
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'Cause I don't know how I'm gonna
get your mouths to shut
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Now when it doesn't matter
what caliber
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I spit at, I'll bet a hundred
thousand bucks
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You'll turn around and just be
like, "Man, how the fuck
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Sourpuss gonna get mad just
'cause his album sucks?
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And now he wants to take
it out on us." (ooouuu)
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But last week, an ex-fan
mailed me a copy
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Of The Mathers LP to tell me to study
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It'll help me get back to myself
and she'll love me (ooouuu)
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I mailed the bitch back
and said if I did that
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I'd just be like everyone else
in the fucking industry
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Especially an effing Recovery
clone of me (NFing)
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So finger-bang, chicken
wang, MGK, Igg' Azae'
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Lil Pump, Lil Xan imitate Lil Wayne
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I should aim at everybody
in the game, pick a name
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I'm fed up with bein' humble
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And rumor is I'm hungry, I'm
sure you heard bumblings
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I heard you wanna rumble
like an empty stomach
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I heard your mumblin' but it's
jumbled in mumbo-jumbo
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The era that I'm from will pummel
you, that's what it's comin' to
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What the fuck you're gonna
do when you run into it?
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I'm gonna crumble you and
I'll take a number two
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And dump on you, if you ain't Joyner
00:03:08.200 --> 00:03:10.200
If you ain't Kendrick or Cole
or Sean then you're a goner
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I'm 'bout to bring it to anyone
in this bitch who want it
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I guess when you walk into
BK you expect a Whopper
00:03:14.400 --> 00:03:16.300
You can order a Quarter Pounder
when you go to McDonald's
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But if you're lookin' to get a porterhouse
you better go get Revival
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But y'all are actin' like I tried
to serve you up a slider
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Maybe the vocals shoulda
been auto-tuned
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And you woulda bought it
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But sayin' I no longer got it
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'Cause you missed the line
and never caught it
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'Cause it went over your head, because
you're too stupid to get it
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'Cause you're mentally retarded,
but pretend to be the smartest
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With your expertise and knowledge,
but you'll never be an artist
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And I'm harder on myself than
you could ever be regardless
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What I'll never be is flawless,
all I'll ever be is honest
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Even when I'm gone they're
gonna say I brought it
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Even when I hit my forties
like a fuckin' alcoholic
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With a bottle full of malt liquor
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But I couldn't bottle
this shit any longer
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The fact that I know that
I'ma hit my bottom
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If I don't pull myself from the jaws
of defeat and rise to my feet
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I don't see why y'all
even started with me
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I get in beefs, my enemies die
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I don't cease fire 'til at
least all are deceased
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I'm eastside, never be caught slippin'
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Now you see why I don't sleep, not
even a wink, I don't blink
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I don't doze off, I don't
even nod to the beats
00:03:57.200 --...........
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