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  • Текст песни Eminem F/ 50 Cent, Obie Trice - Love Me



    [Obie Trice]
    You don't see me in the hood, it's cause I'm doing this man

    Niggas, I'm still grinding (yeah), I still hearing those sirens
    I'm still getting chased by those lights
    Only the light's lime, and my mic's on
    And my time is none, because I'm writing more
    I don't hear to meet a soul in this business
    I'm here to eat, speak, until these ho's feel this
    I ain't gonna let you derail me, man
    I got Young Kobe homey, you gotta let go of Obie
    'Cause Obie be back, (going nowhere, man) we got them craps going on
    And that rap going on, soon as a nigga touch down, back from town
    It's forever, put that on the cheddar, man
    But in the meantime, it's Jimmy Iovine time
    Chase cheese, rhyme 'til my voice give out
    This is it my niggas, this what we boast about
    Now I'm here, so shut your motherfucking mouth, and show me love, bitch

    [Chorus]
    I just wanna love, for the rest of my life (I don't love you, bitch)
    I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you in the night
    (Right we wanna love alcohol, we wanna love guns, we wanna love money
    we don't love no bitches, though)
    I just wanna love, for the rest of my life
    I wanna hold you in the morn, hold you in the night

    [Eminem]
    There's a certain mystique when I speak, that you notice
    'Cause it's sort of unique 'cause you know it's me
    My poetry's deep, and I'm stillmatic, the way I flow to this beat
    You can't sit still, it's like trying to smoke crack and go to sleep
    I'm strapped, it's known any minute I could snap
    I'm the equivalent of what would happen if Bush rapped
    I bully these rappers so bad lyrically
    It ain't even funny, I ain't even hungry, it ain't even money
    You can't pay me enough for you to play me
    It's cockamamey you just ain't zany enough to rock with Shady
    My noodle is cock-a-doodle, my clock's coo-coo
    I got screws loose, yea the whole kitten caboodle, I'm just brutal
    It's no rumor, I'm numero uno, assume it, there's no more humor in it, you
    know
    I'm rolling with a swollen bowling ball in my bag
    You need a fag and tear a near hole in my ass, you better love me, bitch

    [Chorus]
    [50 Cent]
    And all the bitches say
    My buzz is crazy in the hood, they holla my name
    If it ain't about the flow, it's 'bout the stones and the chain
    If I was you, I'd love men too, I roll like a boss
    Nine eleven Porsche same color as cranberry sauce
    I ain't gon' front, I thought R. Kelly was the shit
    Let me find out he fucking 'round with Bow Wow bitch
    Niggas eating popcorn right, rewinding the tape
    Now shorty mama in precinct, hollering rape
    I'm convinced, man, something really wrong with these ho's
    I thought Lil' Kim was hot, 'til she start fucking with her nose
    I used to listen to Lauryn Hill, and tap my feet
    Then the bitch put out a CD and didn't have no beats
    That nigga D'Angelo, he determined not to fail
    That nigga went butt-ass, for his record to sell
    My back shot to help Ashanti hit them high notes
    And Big Ben taught Charli B'More to deep throat (yea)

    [Chorus]

    [50 Cent]
    I love the burners, the money, the bunnies, I just wanna hold you, ha ha
    I just wanna love you, yea